It's been days. I'm not sure how many. Seven? Ten? Twelve? Meat Hands has given me small chunks of nasty, stale food periodically. Enough to keep me barely alive, but nothing more. Every day I'm awake, I am brought to the metal table with the man with the knife and asked useless questions about my ship, the Skull Gem, who I'm working for, and whatever else he feels like. Whenever I don't have the answers he wants, he hurts me. Mostly small scratches and bruises, nothing I can't handle. The past day or two feels like he is purposely asking me questions he knows I don't know the answer to, just so he can torture me. And it always ends with a stab in the arm and me waking up in my jail cell.
My vision always takes a few hours to clear up and sometimes I'll wake up with unfamiliar bruises or aches. The worst part is I smell like shit. My hair is ratted and frizzy yet somehow simultaneously stuck to my skin. My body reeks of sweat and salt and blood. My cell smells like urine and feces, despite the fact that I've done my best to designate a bathroom.
Being so concerned about my hygiene feels shallow, but I've never felt this grimy in my life. Do you know what it's like to be so starving yet on the verge of throwing up from the texture of your own skin? Not pleasant. At least let me starve in peace.
I also think I've been here much longer than days I can count. Each time I wake up, my body looks smaller and gaunt than it did the last time I looked at it. But when I get out of here, I won't have to worry about the junk I eat for weeks.
I smile and tears reach my eyes. I still pretend I'm going to escape. Maybe I'll be given a spoon with my moldy bread one day and I can figure out how to dig a hole through the bricks. I hope they have damn strong spoons. I daydream about my crew coming to find me. Lorcan would scold me about being so stupid. He'd make me grovel for his forgiveness. The last time I saw him, I was making his friends hold each other down and whip them. But the softer side to Lorcan would come out once he forgives me, and he would hold me and take care of me, fussing over my well-being.
Hadrien would throw me over his shoulder and trot back to The Evocation with me hanging off him like a sack of potatoes. Daegan would kiss me. Fenix would hold me. I'd be safe.
My body shakes involuntarily. I'm not cold, but my muscles hurt. I lift my head slowly off the wet ground, testing the strength of my neck. It's coming back, but it's not quite there yet. I drop it back onto the floor with a thump.
"You look like a mess, love," Lorcan would say if he could see me.
"So do you," I would tease. "I'm sorry for being the worst captain ever." I've had this imaginary conversation with Lorcan many, many times.
"That's an understatement," Lorcan would glare at me with disapproving eyes. I would smile because it's cute.
"Don't make me beg," I say out loud, into my empty cell. I hear my voice echo back to me.
"Get on your knees. Beg me. Earn your forgiveness." Lorcan would demand.
I lean my head up off the ground again, then slowly put my arms under my weight, lifting myself up. After a few moments of awkward shifting, I'm on my knees, looking up at the dark brick ceiling. I imagine big, fluffy clouds against a beautiful blue sky. Maybe some of them look like fish. I laugh to myself. My side aches in response.
"Please, Lorcan," I beg aloud, as if he were here and could listen to me. "Please forgive me. None of you deserved this. I'm not worthy of your trust. I'm not worthy to be your captain."
Lorcan's blonde hair would blow behind him. He would tower over me like a beautiful, cruel God.
"Forgive me," I sob. Sticky tears fall onto my cheeks. "I need you to forgive me before I die. Please."
YOU ARE READING
Evocation
Adventure"I promised myself the next time I saw you, I was claiming you. Your mouth-" he gazes at my lips while biting his own. "-your body.." he squeezes at my hips. His hands trail up and he wraps his thick fingers in my hair, pulling softly. "Watching you...
