Warrior Vula

Chapter 2

Her back protested when she sat up and Vatea groaned at the aches that came alive around her neck. Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips, smacking them noisily while she tried to register her surroundings. She didn't recognize the dark room and the unceremonious cold wooden floor she must have slept on. Her wedding dress was ripped, smelled like seaweed and probably wasn't white anymore. She couldn't tell in the dark. She didn't mind either. She was sure she looked like the lochness monster.

There was some light filtering in from spaces in the wood and door.

A sudden lurch of the ship reminded her of where she was and she was conscious of the subtle sway that she'd grown accustomed to through the night. This had to be the worst and most realistic dream she has ever had. At the moment, she didn't know what was happening.

"Hello?" She croaked but the sound could barely be heard.

The night was calm though, she thought. An improvement from the storm they had had earlier. As it was, the people on the cruise ship were a bunch of lunatics. First, they rescued her then they threw her into the closet-like cabin to be treated like a prisoner. No one came to see her. She could hear people, foot-steps, things moving and the occasional creaking of the vessel but was denied contact with anyone.

She was cold, thirsty, hungry and tired. Not to mention, she was in pain and her make-up must have transformed her features into the Joker. 

"Hello?" She said again and moved to stand when her hand landed in slop. "URGH! What the!?"

In front of her sat a wooden bowl and a wooden cup that hadn't been there the day before. She hadn't notice it because of the lack of light but her eyes adjusted and she could make out the room more clearly.

The place was bare but someone had been in earlier to leave her water and....food. It looked like porridge but she wasn't sure. Her hunger dissolved and she chose to drink the water instead. The water tasted different but it was definitely clean water. Refreshing.

After emptying the cup, she stood up shakily and ran the events of what just happened through her head. Maybe now was the time to panic.

She remembered her wedding and recalled the horrid experience with the old man at the sea wall. He shoved her over the wall! He sent her here....

She scratched her head, confused. Where was she?

Then a thought struck her. Oh God, no. I'm being trafficked!!

She'd read about it and seen it on the news but she never thought she'd be the victim of something like this. Was she being trafficked for prostitution? She hoped not.

Or were they donating her organs?

She quickly dismissed the idea.

The people on board were confusing. They seemed crazy. Maybe she was crazy.

She remembered that they'd sent her to Frederic's room but she couldn't see a bed. This was no one's room. It was probably a closet or cell.

"HELLO!?!?!" She yelled out again. She didn't expect anything to happened but there was suddenly a noise at her door. The door swung open with a loud creak and squeak as two bulky men marched in.

"Hey-" Whatever she was about to say was cut off when the taller of the two grabbed both her arms. He produced a rope and fastened her wrists together, all the while ignoring her feeble protests. Guy number 2 stood at the doorway, probably as security, in case she turned into Chuck Norris and slaughtered the whole ship. It was ridiculous. She looked far from threatening.

In the small amount of light, she could make out the first man's features. He was tanned, almost burnt and a scar ran down his left cheek. He looked like he had long hair but she couldn't really see behind him, as tempted as she was to check for his ponytail. Pirate, rang in her head but she shook away the thought. Weren't most Pirates Nigerian? That sounded like an ignorant thought.