[b]Trading Center - Richard Treis[/b]

"PLEASE STOP!!" Jennifer screamed, begging Treis' soldier to stop with deafening howls. Tears flooded through the banana that blinded her as irksome sobs reformed. "....please..." she repeated with more helpless desperation, hands tied together and resting on her thighs. The woman lay motionless on her knees as her chains rattled with Floyd trying to do something about their situation. He shook and fought the overwhelming oppression, but was met with violence every time he moved. He was also placed on his knees, but was forced to lean to the left as Hank's busted body dragged him sideways. They had not been released from their chains, so remained tied to one another. As stated before, when one fell, the rest followed.  

"Let em' go" the redneck would say under his own breath from time to time, but had no impact on the mindset of their enemy. They could not even see what was going on, but could only imagine the unfolding events. The sound of Hank's grunts and rugged coughs fabricated an image encompassed by a agonizing theme. The word painful could not describe the actual pain their leader was experiencing. Floyd felt drops of liquid come in contact with his arm from time to time, but didn't know what the substance was. He had the impression it was Hank's blood, but could not tell if he were just imagining it all. Underneath those blindfolds and knowing Floyd, there was obvious intent to hurt. Hank had said it. They were now in a position where it was kill or be killed. If the group made it out of this one with their lives, it was time to reminisce on their past events and morph into something that would keep them from such dangerous affairs. These people came treated them like effigies, objects to be used for the sole purpose of anger management. 

Just about ten minutes ago, the group had been removed from the truck's bed and onto the concrete. They had stopped as it seemed they arrived at their destination of trade. The community leader, Richard Treis, [i]gratefully[/i] briefed them on what would happen from this point forward. 

"You will be given to Tremblay. Do not ask who he is, for you will soon find out. Just know that we take good care of our kind, so you have no reason to fear. Because you have chosen to not join our cause, you will not be accepted into our home. But because we are [i]good[/i] common folk, we give you a second opportunity under the supervision of Tremblay. You will now forever live under his notion and never step foot in our lands. If you do, you die. But now, we wait for the men who will take you to their community. I hope you like it there. You'd of been a great addition to our cause" he had finished right before he allowed the others to beat Hank. He did nothing to stop them, nor was the one who commanded them to do so, the men just attacked him on their own. They said Hank broke the rules and peeked, then pulled him off the truck with the others and immediately started to strike him to the ground. It was completely brutality sugarcoated by the laughter of the tyrants. 

Sooner or later, the supremacist bunch stopped hammering Hank and left the man alone and silent on the frigid road. "Nigger lover" was their last comment before their steps become distant. They were still chattering in the background, so the group knew their slave drivers were close enough to see. They kept their movements to a minimum and tried to speak to each other as silently as possible. "Hank.....are you okay?" Jennifer asked, a look of concern consuming her facial features. She stopped profusely crying the second they stopped harming him, a sign of relief. But still, she was in complete despair since she could not help him, nor do anything for that matter. Hank wasn't even responding, but his breathing was loud enough to hear. He was having difficulty doing that simple self-regulating action which was a sign that he was honestly on the wrong side of the health spectrum. The group had always gotten out of the worst of scenarios, but this was just so chaotic.