The oncoming storm proved to be worse than the previous ones, and heavy winds buffeted the ship late into the night, preventing Natasha from being able to fall asleep, despite her exhaustion and soreness from another afternoon sparring with Alexander. She resigned herself to sit on the floor by John's door, listening to the men outside shout orders to each other over the pounding rain, catching glimpse of their conversations. It sounded as if John and Maverick were attempting to steer them towards and island that was supposedly nearby, incase and significant damage was done to the ship, but Natasha couldn't stay away long enough to figure out if they made it to the island. She eventually climbed back into John's bed, her limbs aching from training and her shoulders sore from bending over the sail to mend it. After staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, with the wind calming down and the ship's movement easing despite the persistence rain, Natasha finally fell asleep.
She woke what felt like only moments later, a sound in the dark pulling her out of her sleep, only moments before a large, damp hand clamped over her mouth. She was stunned, for an instant, before she screamed against the hot, rough skin as she thrashed against the other hands that encircled her wrists and ankles. In the dark, Natasha couldn't tell how many men had crept into the room, but by the hands on her body she guessed there were at least three, maybe more. She knew she was outnumbered, but she screamed against the hand, into the gag of soft cloth that was shoved mercilessly into her mouth, choking her. She pushed and pulled against the hands that forced her onto her back, bound her hands behind her back with a rope that cut into her skin, and then forced her out of bed. She stumbled as they shoved her hard across the room and through her door into the lingering wind and rain.
Her shoulders ached as she wrenched against her captors, two hands on her shoulders, one clasped around the rope and her hands, and one clasped painfully over her mouth. Her throat burned as she screamed through the cloth and hand, fighting even though she knew it was useless. The men stayed silent even as she fought against them, moving her purposefully towards the edge of the deck. She realized their plan almost immediately, and in the back of her mind she knew that these men, faces concealed with masks, had been waiting for this moment since she stepped on deck.
She looked around frantically, trying to find any features that would identify the men whose hands held her held her, in the event that she survived and would know who had tried to kill her. As she tried to look around, however, a hand curled through her braided hair at the nape of her neck, pulling hard so that any movement of her head made her feel as if her hair would be ripped from her scalp, and she was forced to look only forward as the hands pushed her towards the side of the ship. The only thing she could see, barely visible in a flash of lightning, was a glimpse of one tattooed arm that moved around her and the dark outline of a nearby island out at sea.
As Natasha felt one of her captors brush too close against her back, she took a chance and swung her head backwards as hard as she could, ignoring the pain she felt as her hair pulled painfully from her scalp. A throbbing pain radiated across her scalp as she came in contact with something, possibly the man's face. The hand that was covering her mouth disappeared as one of the men behind her swore loudly, and Natasha noted that he spoke with a heavy accent.
Natasha coughed and moved her jaw and tongue until she could spit out the small bit of cloth that had tried to gag her with, a small strip of off-white fabric that resembled the sail she had mended earlier. She screamed as loud as she could manage over the increasingly volatile wind and rain, wondering where John and Alexander were, praying they were awake and could hear her screaming, as a hand slammed her head against something wooden and hard, the siding of the ship that began to rise up next to the staircase, and her vision faded as the pain burst throughout her entire head. Her body slacked in response to the agony, allowing the men the moment they needed to push her further towards the edge of the ship.
YOU ARE READING
The Nightingale
Adventure[Completed] [Editing/Re-Writing] [10/9/19] For hundreds of years Natasha and the rest of her village have been prisoners within their own town, their own homes, as a punishment for what she believes was a failed revolution attempt against their unju...
