𝓘𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓪

Chapter 1 ~ how to get kidnapped 101

(I apologize in advance for any typos, this chapter was beta read by me, myself and I).

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If one must know something about me, I would tell you that not many things surprise me, I would tell you that catching me off guard is a frankly applaudable feat. Tonight however, will not be entering my list of badass things I've done. You see, when you've drank a tad too much cowboy coffee and your head feels kind of sticky, it's hard to react fast when the hilt of a sword connects with your left shoulder.

I react fast enough, either way.

Stumbling back from the impact, my left hand flies up to grab the sword, I rip it out of my masked assailants hands, before turning it around and hitting him roughly in the temple with the hilt of his own weapon. He crumples down to the stony lamplit alleyway, unconscious. Another masked figure flies at me from the darkness—at this point I assume they are all masked—and brandishes his forearm-length cutlass, aiming for my leg.

A cutlass? I pause for a split second. That's not a typical weapon for a Solaris street rat.

The assailant, who apparently was not a Solaris street rat, was better than I expected; spinning his sword around in his hand, he took advantage of my momentary bout of confusion and slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of my knee, causing my legs to buckle. My knees hit the road and I gritted my teeth at the pain that shot up my leg. Wrenching my dagger from its scabbard, I swing my right arm out at the masked man, hoping to catch him mid-movement and rip through his trachea, but my head his swimming from the alcohol, so I miss his face by a devastating half a second. He rocks his free hand foreword and punches me square in the temple, I fight to blink away the stars that fill my vision.

Shit shit shit. I panic as a second masked man appears behind me, kicking me swiftly in the back, sending me lurching forward with a gasp. I swing out my left leg in an attempt to trip him, but my movements are too slow, the man grabs my ankle and twists it at a dangerous angle. Before my brain can even comprehend what's going on, the second man yanks both my arms behind me and begins tying my hands behind my back with a thick rope, I struggle wildly against his grip, but it feels like pure steel, unmoving and unrelenting.

"Don't worry mi'lady, no harm will come to you if you stop the struggle," The first man almost sings in my ear, leveling his gaze with mine as he ties a black gag around my mouth. "Someone just wants to meet you, that's all."

I can feel his saccharine smile through his mask, I scream and bite at the gag, desperate for someone to notice my struggle and come to my aid, but the gag holds tight, my voice coming out in a muffled panic. I buck against my restraints once again, to no avail, the second masked man holds my hands and legs with a frightening grip.

So much for having some fun, I think furiously. One too many drinks and I'm getting kidnapped by some scumbag pirates, this was not on my to-do list this week.

All I wanted was some fun for a change, being cooped up in that dreaded castle with my emotionally constipated dad gives me the jitters. It's really all I can do not to leave entirely, sneaking out is how I cope with the crushing loneliness. I've been doing it for about 3 years now, ever since I truly grasped the art of fighting and swordplay—or more specifically dagger-play, as I found I can handle a dagger a lot better than a sword of any make. I've been trained like a soldier ever since I was six, the reason my father demanded it has always eluded me, but I have an idea it's because of his background as a legendary navy and military commander. I didn't mind though, I often found it fun, plus I'd always daydreamed about commanding my own navy vessel.