Chance

Just like on Corellia

Thank you for your patience! I'll be updating more often coming up and yes, we're getting to the spicy 🌶  stuff. Just hang tight.

~

Days, maybe a week. You weren't sure how long it had been. But you were beyond sure that the gash in your stomach was infected by now.

It wasn't just the excruciating pain. Your skin was damp with sweat but you were frozen and uncontrollably shivering. Every breath, every movement no matter how small, tugging at the wound on your abdomen. Pulling at the broken skin and opening the wound even more.

Other than infrequent visits from your captors, it was utter isolation in this dark and dingy room, with only a thin mat on the freezing floor to use as a bed. They only came in to bring you this tasteless, colorless gruel and a cup of tepid water, or to escort you for one of the scarce trips to the bathroom you were allowed.

Memories were what passed the time. You hadn't intentionally recalled them, but they just appeared anyways.

It was one memory in particular, one that was foggy and long gone. You couldn't even remember when it occurred.

But you were laughing. You knew you had been laughing. Laughing uncontrollably, glee in every breath. And there was water splashing. You, a much younger you, were splashing around in water somewhere.

And there were fireworks behind you. You remembered hearing loud explosions, watching flames lick and sparkle in the water's reflection. Like a magic show.

The details of the memory were vague but the feeling, that rush of joy and childish abandon were crystal clear. A feeling that had once belonged to you.

It was nice that your psyche was trying to preserve some sense of comfort while you wasted away in this frigid cell, but it wasn't enough to banish reality.

They were making sure of that. Your captors wouldn't speak to you, rather mumbling veiled threats about what was going to happen if the Supreme Leader didn't strike a bargain.

You didn't bother to remind them that he wouldn't.

You had only been a project to Kylo Ren. Nothing more, and nothing worth saving.

The wound was worsening by the second, and so was the pain. Even the sweet memories weren't enough to keep your consciousness afloat. It was slipping away, and quickly.

You were delirious, head drooping on your shoulder. Voices cut through the delirium and echoed, but you attributed it to just that—delirium. You knew it couldn't be real. You couldn't even bother to look up.

There was a strange sensation that started at the base of your spine and spread through your skull. It felt almost like warmth. Familiarity.

It felt like being in Kylo's presence.

The edge of consciousness teetered, and you could feel yourself slipping into oblivion. Just before the blackness on the edges of your visions absorbed all the light in the room, you heard someone speak.

"Sir, I found her."

-

It felt like there was a fog shrouding your brain.

Am I dead? Is this what it feels like?

"Hello, Pet."

Nope. Still alive.

Though the person behind that voice reminded you a lot of pure hell.