Put On Your Raincoats | Forced Entry (Costello, 1973)
If there's one bit of levity about Shaun Costello's Forced Entry, it's that the poster makes the hilt of the knife look like a giant mountie hat floating over Harry Reems' head. If there's another bit of levity you can find here, it's that if you want, you can read the tagline like a punchline. I mean, it's pretty awful, but if you try real hard and deliver it just right, you can maybe squeeze a few chuckles out of it. I dunno, the exclamation mark is kinda funny, sorry. And there's a guy who looks like if David Cross wore a hairpiece. Okay, that's about all there is in terms of laffs, and what I'm trying to get across is that this is a monumentally unpleasant movie, that plays out as vilely and noxiously as the premise allows.
If there is one arguably morally redeeming factor here, it's that its hard to picture anyone getting off on this. I've seen my share of roughies, and while they're often depicting acts that would be monstrous in real life, they'll usually find ways to play things less unpleasantly and more overtly titillating. Not here (and one can read the ending as a rebuke to the genre). The camera is almost always pushed up too close, into the anguished faces of the victims, from uncomfortable low angles so we're trapped with them. (One of the few times it pulls back, it begins to zoom in and out from the dreaded under the balls angle, as if to rub our faces in the participants' pasty, pallid posteriors as they fill the screen.) And if you kinda, sorta begin to find snippets of this arousing, the movie delivers on its premise of graphic murder and, as a bonus, hits you with documentary footage of the Vietnam War, combat scenes and real corpses presented as the vilest of punchlines. This is real dark side cinema.
There is some semblance of cinematic style here, in the way it finds a certain rhythm between the street scenes, the documentary footage and the pornographic and violent elements, and even blatant cost-cutting methods like the recycled audio ("Scummy hippies! Fucking hippies coming in my station!" repeated like "Dental plan" / "Lisa needs braces") arguably add to the sense of psychological isolation. But the overall crudeness of the film's style adds to its impact, stretches of boredom punctuated by truly pungent rape scenes, the film stock seemingly being torn apart by the sheer vileness of what transpires. A hard movie to look at. A hard movie to look away from.
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In the infamous Green Lantern #54, cover date August, 1994, Alex Dewitt was murdered by Major Force and her body crammed into a refrigerator. This issue prompted discussions and even a website discussing the trend of hurting, raping, maiming, and killing women as a simple plot device for male character arcs. These cases have become known as "WiF" ... Women in Fridgerators. ("Forced Entry", Green Lantern #54, Comic, Event)
"Hello, I need to make a call to the hospital Please."
My entry for Punkrockpearl's 400 follower challenge. I loved writing this one-shot. My OC is Indian like me and her face claim and outfit are in the mood board, I used Alia Bhatt's face as my OC, she is an amazing Indian actor.
Congratulations to Punkrockpearls on 400 followers, you were one of the first writers that I discovered in the Vikings fandom and I love all of your fics. You deserve all the love and followers.
Hugs and Kisses.
Love Phoenix.
P.S. Do tell me your thoughts on this. Thank you.
WARNINGS: Minor use of force(not the sexual kind), intimidation, threats.
It was a game, really. Nothing much, get into houses, break stuff, steal food, make a mess and leave. It was not personal, no, they did it just because they could. Plus, it was fun, they were made for this stuff.
Today was yet another day of the same song and dance. Some idiot crashed his bike. He was looking around trying to find a potential victim when Ivar called.
“Ay, look at that one.” He pointed at the shadowy figure who had not shown any sign of attention to the chaos below. He could see headphones on her ears and her bopping her head to whatever beat she was listening to and writing something in a notebook.
Hvitserk counted floors and pressed the button for the 7thfloor. He waited and when no answer came he pressed again for a longer time.
“She is getting up,” Ivar called to him.
Then and there, he didn’t know why but somehow from somewhere a feeling of dread made its way up to his spine and then settled in his stomach. He had no idea why. Hvitserk ignored it. The intercom turned on and the voice of a woman spoke.
“Yes?” Her voice had an accent, he had heard it somewhere. He was not sure where.
“Hello, can I make a call to the hospital from your phone, please? My phone is dead and my friend is in an accident. Can I come up there to make a call?” He asked very politely, gotta keep it that way if he wanted to get in.
“Uhhh,” a moment of hesitation and she said, ”Yeah, sure.”
Huh, her voice sounded odd, her words slurred a bit or maybe he was just hearing things.
“What is your apartment number?” He asked.
“716”
The security gate opened and as Hvitserk and Ivar entered the lift, Hvitserk still had that foreboding feeling in his chest, as if something was wrong. He ignored it and reached the apartment that she had told him about. Hvitserk instructed Ivar to stay behind and enter after him. Ivar was the more threatening out of both of them, his surprise entry usually made people nervous.
He knocked on the door and waited.
After a moment the woman opened the door and instantly she took his breath away. She was gorgeous, with wheatish skin tone, dark set eyes that shined, they were lined in kohl which made them appear doe-like, she had a small nose and petal-like lips. She was wrapped in a red skirt-like structure with a green blouse and silver jewellery, vaguely he remembered seeing it on a Bollywood actress in a movie he saw years ago, but he couldn’t remember the name of the garment.
She was a vision.
He damn near had a stroke when she smiled and said, “Come in please.” Gods above be grateful, even her voice was lovely. She turned and he just ogled at her trim little waist that peeked from her clothes, it was just a cherry on top when she moved. Her hips swayed and he almost groaned. He had to remind himself to not close the door for Ivar.
Saree, he remembered now, the garment’s name.
She pointed to the landline, on the side table by her couch and moved to another room. For the first time, while he talked to the hospital he observed the apartment he was in. There were white walls, navy and brown décor. There was a homely feel to the place.
There were cosy lights, pictures of family and friends on the walls, an open kitchen plan, spacious drawing room with a TV set in front of it. He informed the hospital about the crash when Ivar entered the apartment and started looking around closing the door with a crash. It alerted their host and she came out hurriedly and looked at Ivar who had just entered and was snooping around the place like he owned it.
“Who is this?” She asked.
“This is my brother Ivar, he was with me and my friend too.” He turned towards his brother and said, ”Ivar this is….”
He realised she hadn’t told him her name.
“Ahilya”
Hvitserk saw Ivar looking at her and he made no effort to hide his appreciation as his gaze moved on her form from top to bottom salaciously and Hvitserk felt a stab of jealousy.
Her eyebrows were furrowed and she looked uncomfortable, he knew the feeling. It was never good to have two strange guys at your house, no matter how helpful you were it always made people nervous.
“I suppose you have called the ambulance, what did they say?” Her expression had changed in a split second, it was back to calm.
“They said it would take some time, we are to stay here.”
“I think they meant the sight of the accident, not here.” Her voice had a form tone to it. Hvitserk liked that, she was far too friendly for her own good, she should have never let him inside the house or at least should have looked if the door was closed. But playtime was over, things were about to change here. They would do what they wanted to do and leave after scaring her enough.
“I think we will stay here for a while, don’t you think it’s polite to do so sweetheart.” Ivar’s voice was deceptively soft and silky with an underlying tone of menace. Hvitserk looked at him and saw him smiling menacingly at her.
On Ahilya’s face, he saw fear enter. It was not a good look on her pretty face, Hvitserk wanted the smile she gave him when he entered her home, not this. But fear worked better in this situation. He did not want her running mouth. So he plastered the best fake intimidating face he had and marched toward her slowly as she backed away, in his periphery he saw Ivar move too.
“We do this a lot you know sweetheart, break into houses, break stuff, and steal things, just general mayhem. Ivar here once broke an 80 inch TV with a baseball bat. I threw a MacBook out of the window just because. That idiot down there was not our friend, we don’t even know him. He was just a way to get into one of the houses and just cause trouble, ya know?”
He had backed her into a wall and Ivar was at his side, smiling still. She looked properly scared now, her eyes with wide and her eyebrows drawn together, her bottom lip was trembling.
Fear did not look good on her he decided. It was a split second of distraction before she darted away from him and his brother and ran for the door screaming but Ivar caught by the end of her saree and pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest and covered her mouth with his palm. She struggled wildly, trying to free herself, but she couldn’t. Tears flowed out of her eyes as she struggled to breathe with Ivar's heavy palm smothering her. Hvitserk did not like this, he really did not like this.
"Sweetheart, tch, that was the wrong thing to do now, we really gotta restrain you properly, huh? I really don't like to say this but I think you are going to be a problem for us if we leave you here. You might blab to the police, then our fun will be over. I think we are going to take you with us, yes, I think we are. Just for insurance. Huh?"
He started to drag her away roughly. She was trying to fight him off. Keyword: Trying. She really could not overpower Ivar.
She started to hit Ivar’s arm, trying to pry it off, something akin to panic was visible in her eyes and it was rapidly increasing. She was repeatedly screaming a word behind Ivar’s palm and she was visibly panicking. Ivar reacted quickly at seeing her face and removed his palm when she breathlessly said,
“Red, Red please stop, Red, Fuck, Red.”
Ivar immediately took her into his arms gently and sat on the floor with her in his lap and started to calm her. Hvitserk moved to the kitchen and immediately brought a cold water bottle for her the other things that they usually used for aftercare would not be needed today.
They had had to stop the roleplay immediately. Their lover didn’t like this kidnapping and fear play. It was necessary for them to cater to her boundaries.
Ivar meanwhile had carried her to the bedroom and was calming her and soothing away her worries. “It’s not a problem if you do not like something, we wanted to try the roleplay, it did not work out. We need you to be safe and comfortable with us little dove. Hvitserk and I would never think less of you if you do not want to engage in the kink. We will not try this again unless you are absolutely sure. Yes?”
“I am so sorry, I just panicked, I’m sorry” She babbled into his shoulders.
“Don’t you dare say sorry for this. We agreed to not continue if anyone of us felt uncomfortable. Honestly even I was uncomfortable at the end. I did not want to continue Ahilya, I wanted you to be smiling at me. Not screaming to get away from me, my love. You did nothing wrong” Hvitserk said sternly.
His love was the most beautiful and strong woman on earth, he would never want her to cry because of him or be afraid of him. Ivar gently made her drink water.
Afterwards, they took her into their arms and cuddled her on the bed. Slowly, bringing her to normal and giving her much needed care and attention.
“I really liked this saree, would you wear it again for me please?” Hvitserk said softly. She smiled at him and said, ”Of course.”
“Hm, I liked the white one better, with which you crimp your hair. Wear that too. You looked like a goddess in it.” Ivar said. She chuckled and said, “Of course, I would, my love.” She kissed him softly and turned to do the same for Hvitserk.
Hvitserk could not think of a better place to be, he thought, as she kissed him languidly.
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