feistyphoenix
The Goddess
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2014
- Posts
- 9,869
Ally couldn’t remember exactly how old she was but she thought she was getting into her mid 20’s, her hair was reddish brown and she kept it the best she could but it was dull and lifeless like the rest of her. She shivered almost constantly and any scrap of clothing the crew gave her hung loosely off her malnourished body. Her frightened grey blue eyes darted around the room any time another person was present.
She didn’t know the man sleeping next to her, but that was not uncommon. This man was different though, the only thing she remembered from that night was his strong arms wrapping around her and carrying her to the deck of the large expansive yacht. The drugs she was on made it impossible for her to decipher exactly what was happening but she swore she heard gunshots in the distance.
The next thing she knew she was sputtering up water on the deck of a boat with the large man laid out next to her, both of them soaked to the bone. She shivered and clung tightly to him, hiding her half exposed flesh from the men standing around her. She thought they’d hurt her but a grizzled fisherman wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to a kitchen where he cooked the first real meal she had eaten in as long as she could remember. Ally inhaled the food while watching him suspiciously. Thankfully, she spoke some German and she was able to communicate with him brokenly. He was Scandanavian but he tried many languages before he found one she responded to; Ally wasn’t a stupid girl but it had been a very long time since someone had treated her with any sort of decency.
The boat was scheduled to be at sea for another 3 weeks and couldn’t take her and her friend to shore any sooner. Ally refused to tell anyone her name when they asked; she couldn’t remember her last name anyway. She was so terrified of the crew for the first week she only nodded and mumbled short answers while staring at the dingy grey floor. The medic, Sven, tried to offer her a shower and she washed herself in record time while he sat outside the closed door and waited patiently. She stared wide eyed as he handed her clean clothes, she clutched them to her chest like a treasure.
Ally spent most of her time observing her rescuer below deck. After a couple of days she got the courage to touch him, she stroked his face and touched his hands. Every night she wrapped herself in a sheet and wedged her thin body between him and the wall rather than take the chance of sleeping near any of the other men, this was the only bunk available anyway.
Sometimes Ally just stared at him, as if she could somehow glean information from him while he slept. After 14 days and lots of coaxing from Sven and the cook, Ally started to help care for him. In truth, she had never seen his face before but she was certain he had saved her. It must have been before the bullets tore through his shoulder, Sven called it a through and through, whatever that meant. She carefully cleaned her rescuer’s wounds the way Sven showed her and she ran her hands through his short hair, smoothing it back from his handsome face. He wasn’t as young as she was but his body was recovering quickly. Sven told her he was military, and pointed at his tattoos. Ally didn’t know what they meant but the ink looked mean and dangerous.
She had been sitting next to him, staring off into space, the day he opened his eyes. Seeing him moving startled her and she leapt out of the bunk to cower in the chair across the narrow room. His rippling muscles would surely tear her apart. Her breathing quickened and she looked around for a place to hide but saw none; her best bet was to stay very still and do everything he asked her to do without resistance.
She didn’t know the man sleeping next to her, but that was not uncommon. This man was different though, the only thing she remembered from that night was his strong arms wrapping around her and carrying her to the deck of the large expansive yacht. The drugs she was on made it impossible for her to decipher exactly what was happening but she swore she heard gunshots in the distance.
The next thing she knew she was sputtering up water on the deck of a boat with the large man laid out next to her, both of them soaked to the bone. She shivered and clung tightly to him, hiding her half exposed flesh from the men standing around her. She thought they’d hurt her but a grizzled fisherman wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to a kitchen where he cooked the first real meal she had eaten in as long as she could remember. Ally inhaled the food while watching him suspiciously. Thankfully, she spoke some German and she was able to communicate with him brokenly. He was Scandanavian but he tried many languages before he found one she responded to; Ally wasn’t a stupid girl but it had been a very long time since someone had treated her with any sort of decency.
The boat was scheduled to be at sea for another 3 weeks and couldn’t take her and her friend to shore any sooner. Ally refused to tell anyone her name when they asked; she couldn’t remember her last name anyway. She was so terrified of the crew for the first week she only nodded and mumbled short answers while staring at the dingy grey floor. The medic, Sven, tried to offer her a shower and she washed herself in record time while he sat outside the closed door and waited patiently. She stared wide eyed as he handed her clean clothes, she clutched them to her chest like a treasure.
Ally spent most of her time observing her rescuer below deck. After a couple of days she got the courage to touch him, she stroked his face and touched his hands. Every night she wrapped herself in a sheet and wedged her thin body between him and the wall rather than take the chance of sleeping near any of the other men, this was the only bunk available anyway.
Sometimes Ally just stared at him, as if she could somehow glean information from him while he slept. After 14 days and lots of coaxing from Sven and the cook, Ally started to help care for him. In truth, she had never seen his face before but she was certain he had saved her. It must have been before the bullets tore through his shoulder, Sven called it a through and through, whatever that meant. She carefully cleaned her rescuer’s wounds the way Sven showed her and she ran her hands through his short hair, smoothing it back from his handsome face. He wasn’t as young as she was but his body was recovering quickly. Sven told her he was military, and pointed at his tattoos. Ally didn’t know what they meant but the ink looked mean and dangerous.
She had been sitting next to him, staring off into space, the day he opened his eyes. Seeing him moving startled her and she leapt out of the bunk to cower in the chair across the narrow room. His rippling muscles would surely tear her apart. Her breathing quickened and she looked around for a place to hide but saw none; her best bet was to stay very still and do everything he asked her to do without resistance.