Chapter 3
I hear a loud clang, and lift my head up to see who it is. Though my body protests, I go ahead and try to sit up. Call it a sign of respect, though one might rather say that I didn't want to get another beating so I'm playing the role of a perfect prisoner to try to avoid that at all costs. I'm just saying that the person who spread that but if gossip might be fairly smart, for someone who gossips there is.
Once my eyes finally focus and the vision adjusts to the light, I see the Spaniard. Normally, I'd say something snarky, sarcastic, something more me, but I don't. Partly because I haven't eaten for who knows how many hours but at least more than twenty four hours, and don't have the energy. Partly because the only way to get food would be to play nice, and the Spaniard has food with him, so I play nice.
He stares at me hard, and as much as I want to stare back, I don't. Some things aren't worth showing your dominance, even if it is practically non-existent right now.
If someone had told me that my mission would go so wrong that I'm now submitting to pirates, and not only that, but not challenging them every time they look at me, I would call them a liar to the highest degree.
I hear the cell door creak open, and tense myself up. I prepare to run out of here, or defend myself in case he tries something.
When I see him walking over to me, my breathing increases slightly. I feel my body start to shake, causing more pain than what I have had as my body moves. I feel the cold as always too, and wish that it would just numb me already.
Instead of doing my worst fear in this situation, or another punishment, he lays down a small plate with a piece of bread, and a cup of water right next to it.
I look at him worriedly, wondering if he's going to eat in front of my to just torture me and show me that I can't have access to something. I look up at him slightly. He must see my questions in my eyes since he lets out a small sigh. "It's for you. Captain Storm's orders."
I still have some cautions, wondering if it's to poison me; do to me what I did to her by accident. I wouldn't put it past anyone, especially not a grieving mother, or father for that matter.
However, my hunger and need for strength to survive and escape from these people wins.
My mind tells my hand what to do, as I don't even realize that I've reached for the bread and that I'm bringing it to my mouth as the Spaniard catches my hand.
Though he quickly glances down and to the left, recalling a memory, most likely from yesterday to see if he grabbed my bad wrist. As if I would use that one, which is now terribly swollen and hurts without having to move it, much less use it to pick something up and risk something like this happening.
I give him a glare that he seems immune to. "I don't believe that we've been properly introduced. I'm Miguel, forgive me for not saying my last name, but I do think that you could use that information to your advantage too much on the occasion that you do escape. And the only reason I'm telling you this is because Captain Storm has requested I," He hesitates as if searching for the right word. Or rather, searching for a kinder word than interrogate.
Given how he acts like a gentleman, I bet he says question. "question you."
I internally internally roll my eyes at how he sees himself as a gentleman, even using a kinder word as if I haven't been interrogated/tortured for information before. I know exactly what he's doing and the game that he's playing, and I don't like it, nor am I falling for it.
"I gave you my name, so, what's yours?"
I roll my eyes before saying it, but only because I want food, and he's still holding my hand keeping me from eating. Somehow, I don't feel like this will change until I go ahead and answer all his undoubtedly stupid and tedious questions.
"You can call me LB. It's as close to my name as what anyone's called me in years, though Ice Queen is still a better description," I huff, keeping my eyes on the bread, which I want in back now, and preferably in my hands and not his. Call it trust issues, but I don't have a reason to trust most people, especially not anyone on this ship.
He breaks off a small piece, and gives it to me. I now see how this is going to go. If I want to eat, then I'm going to have to answer his questions, to get something to eat. Nice tactic, though I practically invented it so I know how to beat the system.
"I'm sure you understand what's going on. After all, as you mentioned, you are the Ice Queen, the Queen of all spies and everyone knows and fears your name." He says, and I roll my eyes slightly.
At least he knows who and what he's dealing with. And treating you like such. There could be worse people, such as someone who thinks that you can't be deadly because you are a woman of all things. Though that person would be nice because it would be easy to escape, I might not be able to because I'd kill them for irritating me.
I do take the food and eat it however. "Huh, I thought you would insist that I eat it first to make sure it's not poisoned." He says, and I can't keep my sarcastic comment back.
"Being a spy isn't all cloak and dagger. It's about common sense. And common sense tells me that you wouldn't poison me because you want me to stay alive. Therefore, there's no reason to give up some food to make sure that it's not poisoned. Besides, some poisons are slow acting, and I wouldn't know until a couple of hours, or even days, later."
Yes, I'm aware that's highly hypocritical since minutes ago I was wondering if it was poisoned, but he doesn't need to know my thoughts. Besides, what comes comes, and there's nothing I can do to prevent it. If the bread was poisoned, I was going to die, and him eating some of it wasn't going to change that fact, especially since they would have the antidote to heal him.
He chuckles at that response, and I want to throw something at him. Why is he being so infuriating? "So, after everything you went through yesterday, you still haven't lost any of that famous fire, or is it coldness, the Ice Queen has?"
"I'll guess we'll have to wait and see if a vital part of my personility has been destroyed because of some idiotic pirates or not. And it's either or; the words are interchangeable," I answer, not sure what about him is making me become so sarcastic. I haven't acted this way around a stranger since I don't know when. Well, that might be because the only strangers are captors, and they don't generally like sarcasm, and I don't generally like getting hurt since it's harder to escape so I tone it down a couple of notches.
The only others that saw this part of me are, or used to see it was Amelia, who is in the middle of changing her name to Lizette, Zeev whom I still act like around and socialize around if I need to get some nice sarcasm out (He has become my new sparring partner to let out anger and sarcasm at), Alistar used to, Amory, Ace, and Calynn used to too, and... Brady. I acted a lot like this around Brady.
When he goes to give me another piece of bread, I look at him slightly confused, until I realize he technically asked a question, and I answered it. Interesting, a man who acts as if he has morals. Very interesting indeed. I wonder how long it'll take until he breaks one of those so-called morals he believes he has.
I quickly eat it, and the other piece, and both taste amazing. I'm sure that they're not, most likely stale and maybe a bit moldy, but if you're hungry enough, anything will taste good.
"You know, not all pirates are idiotic and awful. In fact, some of us can be gentlemen," He answers, and I roll my eyes, not caring how he sees it.
"Humanity in general is awful, especially men. All of them are either despicable, repulsive, frauds, or incapable of not thinking that women are inferior, or all of the above," I answer completely seriously and truthfully, because it's true. I have only met one man who wasn't all those things, and he was still a fraud. He pretended to be someone else, just not to me. Besides that, every man in my life is like that, as are most of the women.
Brady wasn't like that. But, he's dead now, and he's like what; one in five thousand? And, it's society. It's normal, and encouraged, so what are the chances of ever meeting someone like that again.
"Just out of curiosity, what would you do if you met a man who wasn't all of those things? That you didn't have to be weary around? Who was a gentleman?" He asks, and I can't find his game. This seems the most weird line of questioning that I've ever seen, unless he's trying to observe my behavior to find different ways to break me.
"I'll tell you when I meet one, though I don't believe that they exist. Well, they don't exist and live that long; they're usually killed pretty quick, because people don't like that about them and think they're weak," I answer, and he lets out an airy laugh. How he can breath easily enough to laugh down here is beyond me. I'm still having trouble getting air, and I've been down here for around twelve hours.
"I guess I can't blame you for believing that you can't find one here after what happened to you yesterday," He says with a twinge of remorse, why I have no clue, but he does.
He gives me the rest of the bread, which I'm confused why. He has barely asked me any questions, none important, and unless he plans on holding the water from me, he's giving up the only thing that will make me answer his questions, and I promise you, the only reason I will answer his questions is to get food, or avoid another harsh punishment like what happened yesterday.
He doesn't grab the water, he just walks out, locks me cell, and walks up the stairway. Leaving me alone with my food, a bit of light, and my thoughts.
A bit of me wants to eat the rest of the bread right now, and gulp all the water down, but I know that's a bad idea. Who knows when he'll come back, or when I'll get fed next. Best to save the rest of the bread, and two-thirds of the water to go with it for later, just in case.
Left with my thoughts, I wonder about a ton of things. Mainly what his game is.
Why is he being nice? What is his game? What does he gain from getting information by being nice to me, and not forcing it out of me. I mean, sure, bribing me to talk with food that I need isn't nice, but it's a whole lot nicer than most of the other ways he could or I would use.
So why? After all, the baby is his too, and I hurt the love of his life, so why is he not being as rough with me as he can to make up for it? I mean, Dirk did and it wasn't even his child. If he didn't have anger issues, possessive issues, and I hadn't tried to kill him, he would probably thank me for doing so.
And why am I acting so differently around him? I mean, I'm acting like myself, and I only did that around my inner circle, and I assure you, he acts like no one in my inner circle.
Except Brady. He acts a lot like how Brady did. Completely devoted to the woman he loves, civilish, and now Brady's dead because of my attraction to him. Because he kept me stable. And now, he's making me go crazy. Making me not sleep until I collapse from exhaustion so I don't have to see him in my dreams.
Not wanting to keep going down that train of thought, I shut off my mind and stare at the wall, completely sure that I might be going insane. And that's what happens for hours on end; I think thoughts, go down a trail I shouldn't,, shut my brain off to stop those thoughts, and then just stare at the wall.
Eventually, sleep finds me, though not without vengeance. It seems I must be haunted and tortured even in the one place that I should be using to escape from everything.
I wake up in terror, feeling clammy and with sheets of sweat rolling off of me even though I know I should be cold and not hot, though why I'm so scared I can't remember.
Maybe because something that is a nightmare is a reality for me. I mean, what's an agent's worst nightmare? A mission gone wrong, where everything they do has a negative connotation, even if they follow the rule-book to the letter. And some missions are like that, where nothing you do can get you ahead, and I'm in one of those.
After all, I've been captured by pirates again, and I'm in my third day in their custody. I've had an awful beating, where I lost a lot of blood and probably passed out afterwards, killed their boss's baby, and now the father of said baby is in charge of interrogating me and giving me food too.
Speaking of food, I've had part of a piece of stale bread for two days, and a couple of sips of water. It'll be a wonder if I can even lift my head.
I knew I should have finished off the bread yesterday. Wait, that's it; I still have some bread left. I still have a way to get energy.
I practically crawl to the bread, and scarf it all down, thoughts of saving it the furthest thing in my mind as it sticks to the roof of my dry mouth.
I grab the cup of water, and drink it all in one gulp, loving the feeling of the cool refreshing water crawling down my dry throat.
Great, you idiot. You just put yourself at his mercy. If he doesn't give you more food and water today, you're doomed.
And, speak of the devil and he'll come, though I guess this time I just have to think of his name since here he is. I think as I hear the ever growing familiar pattern of footsteps clobbering down the stairs.
"Considering you can't do much else, what have you been thinking about?" Miguel asks as he enters, not opening the cell, but I know it'll come soon enough since he has more food and thankfully water in his hand.
"Sorry, but some things do need to stay private," I say in the most unapologetic tone I can muster, though keeping it slightly respectful so that I won't get punished.
"That is a pity. Especially since my ears were burning so you were most likely thinking about me. Want to say what you were thinking about?" He teases, and I roll my eyes, ready to shut him down, though partly wondering if it's a good idea to do so.
You need to shut him down for two reasons LB. Partly because I'm not in the mood, and partly because I don't want, nor do I need, a relationship. After what happened with Brady, I don't need some guy following me around like a lovesick puppy.
Besides, even if he would, he's in love with Captain Van Acker, so it would never work. He's probably just using it as an old information tactic. Make me think that he likes me and that he's willingly to help me escape, then relay whatever evidence he gets from me to his captain, and when the time for the escape comes, let it happen but inform the Captain or, even worse, Dirk, to where I'll get caught and punished.
Well, I won't be falling for it. I do it to enough people that I shouldn't and I especially won't now.
Maybe it's time for this pirate to see a bit of your personality. To see the real you so that he knows these games won't work, and he should just give up. "You are right, I was thinking about you," I answer, and see a look of confusion come across his face. Come on, say exactly what I need you to say right now so I don't look like a fool.
"And what were you thinking about?" He asks, letting his accent grow thicker.
"How I was going to escape from here, and kill everyone on this ship. I was thinking of the different deaths to give everyone. Don't worry, yours was going to be semi-painless and quick. I was thinking about a bullet to the neck," I answer innocently, and watch his expression darken a bit.
Instead of lashing out in anger like I thought he would, (you know, making death threats, hitting me for what I just said, throwing the food down or eating it right in front of me and say how I'm not getting anything else today to mentally torture me, things that normal people would do) he just shakes his head and rolls his eyes before throwing a blanket folded up in between the bars at me.
I give him a questioning look, (I seem to be doing that a lot lately; I must be losing my game and need to check this out further. What is it about being around pirates that causes that?) in which he responds, "I don't need you catching hypothermia and putting both of us behind schedule. On top of that, here's this. You seem like you need the food and water, though not the human company that should be coming with it."
"How very kind of you. But, I assure you, I can take care of myself," I answer, wanting to take the blanket but knowing that my pride won't let me, at least not while he's in the room. When he steps out, it's fair game. After all, taking the blanket would be admitting to a weakness, and I can never do that, especially not here. After all, look at what happened last time, and I barely made it out alive then.
As for the food, well I'm eyeing it like the starved person that I am. Looks like the same as yesterday, a piece of bread but food is food and I need food right now.
To answer that, he shrugs again. "Maybe you can. But it seems to me for someone who can take care of themselves so well, you are doing a pretty poor job of it. Picking the wrong mark, getting caught, how badly you got punished, and now you're locked in a cell, with no medical attention, completely dependent on me for food and water, and having to trust me not to hurt you in one of our little sessions. Unless this is how you usually take care of yourself; then you are doing a fairly good job at it," He remarks, pretending to think about everything I've done wrong on this mission, and I grind my teeth and seethe with anger.
How dare he say any of those things. I open my mouth to make a snappy retort, when I realize what he mentioned in that long list. He said how I was dependent on him for food and water, and mentioned something about hurting me in one of the sessions. If I make him too angry, who knows what might happen. No food or water for three days, a bad beating, both at the same time; the possibilities are endless. And while he doesn't seem like the type to hit someone, he did say that he wouldn't hurt me yet. And who knows what will make him mad at me. Until I learn that, I need to go back to my original idea; be submissive to survive.
When I say nothing, though my mind does give him a good cursing out, but just lower my head, he starts mumbling in Spanish, before storming out of the brig in a huff.
So, he hates being ignored. Don't do that again. Always give him a response, whether verbal or by just nodding your head.
I walk, only stumbling a few times, over to the food, and eat half of the bread, chasing it down with a couple sips of water.
You're hungry enough to eat the rest of it now. It might not hurt to.
Oh, come on. He practically admitted that I won't be getting food for a while earlier; I need to save it for a time that'll be coming soon when I'm even more desperate for food and water than what I am right now. I've had a full piece already today; that's enough.
I go over to the corner, thankful for once that I got a corner cell where I can be in a corner, something with an added sense of security. As I sit in the corner, I think about what he said, and for once assess the cell.
It's filthy with dirt, and who knows what else besides my blood, making me undoubtedly dislike that.
As I try to sleep, I get cold. Too cold. I close my eyes, and decide that it's better to admit defeat than to freeze to death. Besides, I can always return it before he comes down here and he'll never know the difference.
I lean against the corner, my head hitting the wood, with the blanket tucked under my neck, trying the best to stay warm, and before I know it, not that I could know it, I fall asleep, with the last thought in my mind being how I could replace it before he came back in the morning, or whatever time he comes to see me.
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