“I… I don’t know.” I admitted, rubbing the back of my head as I felt another wave of nausea creeping up on me. “I think I was with… there was a group… my friends or something… but I…” I trailed off, the memory hazy and slipping through my fingers like sand.
The man in the rowboat exchanged a glance with the one who’d spoken, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.
I didn't understand what was going on. This was weird. Too weird.
The Irish one scowled and stepped toward me with a narrowed gaze. He reached back, gesturing for something, and the man in the boat handed him the glowing orange lantern I had seen in the distance.
He lifted it and the light washed over me, too bright and too sharp. I winced, shrinking back and looking away, my hand covering my mouth and my stomach lurching as it threatened to heave up my lunch right then and there.
My head throbbed like it had a heart of its own. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my skull with all the pressure building up behind them.
What the fuck was going on here?! Who the hell were these guys?!
“Aye. We’ve been lookin’ for ye. Was startin’ to think the sea took ye.” the only one who seemed to have vocal chords said, lowering the lantern. His tone dripped with accusation and something else I couldn’t quite place.
“You have?” I replied, blinking at him in confusion.
Did I know this guy? Had I come in here with a group of people dressed up as fucking pirates or something?!
“Aye,” he replied, his voice steady. “They said ye were lost. Figured we’d drag ye out before the tide drowned ye. We’ve a boat,” he stated, gesturing toward the rickety-looking old rowboat.
Friends? Right. That made sense, I guess. Still, I hesitated, eyeing the rowboat warily.
“I’m… I'm not sure I’m comfortable with… this whole… thing,” I replied, my voice wavering slightly.
Something felt off, a warning bell ringing faintly at the back of my mind.
I took a step back, only to bump into the chest of the mountain who’d carried me here. I'd somehow forgotten about him for the moment.
When I turned to get a better look at him in the light of the lantern, I froze, momentarily stunned.
The dude was enormous! Big and black and built like a fucking linebacker with arms that were thicker than my thighs!
Intimidated, I shrank back, trying to avoid any possibility of him grabbing me again.
The man who had been doing all the talking shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at the rising water. “Suit yerself. Hope ye’re a strong swimmer, then. These caverns will be filled with water within the next few hours.”
He said it casually, as if whether I went with him or not was completely inconsequential to him. Like he honestly didn't give a shit whether I chose to stay or not.
I swallowed hard, glancing nervously at the water creeping up the rocks.
I was lost, my brain was probably spilling out of my head, and my sense of direction was nonexistent in here. Plus, he was right about one thing… he had a boat. And I didn't particularly want to drown in a cave.
He extended a hand toward me, nodding to the rowboat. “Come on, lass. Looks like ye’re hurt. Best get that head seen to.”
The way he said it… he sounded sympathetic now. Concerned. His face was calm, but something about the way he looked at me made my skin crawl—like he knew something I didn’t.
I wanted to ask him for the names of the friends who had sent him, like some way to verify that he was safe. That my friends really had sent him. But it wouldn't really have mattered. The only name I had was Mark. I couldn't remember anyone else I had been with, it was just a blur of faces.
Apprehensively, I nodded, pocketing my phone before accepting his hand as he led me toward the rowboat.
I stepped into it and the thing wobbled violently beneath me, earning a chuckle from all of them, but the one who held my hand kept a firm grip. He felt like the only steady thing in my life right now.
I sat down quickly, gripping the side as my brain pulsed inside my head.
Behind me, the mountain of a man stepped into the boat as well, his weight barely causing any movement, which was a stark contrast to my little entrance.
The more talkative one hopped in last, taking a seat opposite me. I felt his eyes on me, scrutinizing me with a sort of morbid curiosity.
“So… where are my friends, exactly?” I asked, looking around the dark cave as if they might be hiding behind a rock or something.
He ignored the question completely, and instead frowned as he shook his head seriously. “Lass, I think ye need to see the surgeon before we take ye to them,” the man replied, looking deeply concerned now.
"The surgeon?!" I exclaimed, completely horrified by the prospect.
My hand flew to the back of my head again, feeling the wound to try and tell whether there was any bone or brain exposed that might warrant something as serious as seeing a surgeon!
God, I thought maybe I'd need a doctor... maybe a few X-rays or something at worst. But a fucking SURGEON?! Did he mean a brain surgeon?!
I began to panic, looking at the blood on my fingertips as my hand came away from my head. My chest heaved, desperate for air as I headed toward the point of hyperventilating.
"Is it really that bad?!" I asked, tears beginning to threaten as I started to wonder whether I was actually dying.
"Aye," the man replied, his tone somber.
My heart thrummed in my chest, which, in turn, led to my brain pulsating in my head.
"But not to worry," he assured me, offering a casual smile, as if he hadn't just handed me a death sentence. "We’ve a surgeon on board," he went on with what was either a smile or a smirk, I couldn't quite tell.
I nodded, trying to take comfort in his words, but inside I was still fighting back tears.
We maneuvered our way around jutting rocks as the tide crept up the cave walls. The big black man was rowing, navigating us carefully through the cavern, the only light cast by the soft glow of the lantern the other man held out for them to see ahead.
All was silent aside from the sound of lapping water and the occasional bump of an oar against a rock as we made our way through the dark cave.
I was still staring at my hand, rubbing the blood between my fingertips and trying not to cry.
How could this have happened? My dad would be so disappointed in me if he knew I'd gotten myself into such a stupid mess.
Up ahead, I could almost make out an opening. Moonlight? Stars? Resort lights? But before I could be sure, the lantern was extinguished, and the darkness swallowed everything.
(Morgan's POV)My phone booted up and the little start-up jingle played as the screen came to life.The captain looked visibly shaken and took a wary step back."What the bloody hell is that?! Where did that sound come from?!" he yelled, staring at the phone like he'd never seen anything like it in his entire life.It felt like someone had snatched the floor out from under me, and I began to spiral.His reaction to the phone. The way he spoke. The way he dressed. They called the doctor a surgeon. The infirmary looked like it had never seen any form of sanitation in its entire existence. They used fucking lanterns. The fighting on the deck. The dude getting impaled by a sword right in front of me. It all clicked into place, but my brain rejected the notion immediately.I looked down at my phone. No signal.My heart sank as the painful realization of what was happening here began to settle into my bones.But it couldn't be, right? It wasn't actually possible. There had to be some other
(Morgan's POV)The blackness faded away and consciousness forced its way in once again.I was immediately panicked, my heart already racing the second I opened my eyes.This was all real. All of it. Everything. I'd watched a man get stabbed in the fucking chest and die. I'd seen a dudes brains leaking out of his skull. I was on a ship. A real fucking pirate ship in the middle of the goddamn ocean. And I was in danger. Very real danger.My body instinctively jolted upright as I scanned the room around me and found myself somewhere new. It wasn't the infirmary now, it looked more like a bedroom. Or, at least what might pass for a bedroom on a pirate ship, and I was sitting on some make-shift little bed in a corner on the floor.Everything still burned and ached and throbbed, but under the circumstances, that all felt like background noise now. Then I saw him, the captain, sitting there at a desk and inspecting some or other paper.I wanted to leave. I fucking needed to leave! I could li
***TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of violence and gore.***(Morgan's POV)Standing had sapped all of the energy out of me and I'd dozed off shortly after. But I received a rather rude awakening some time later.BOOM!The sound thundered through my skull and the ship shook, jolting me awake violently.It took me a moment to regain my bearings. I'd been dreaming about something. About somewhere that wasn't here. But the second I opened my eyes, it slipped away, only to be replaced by the muffled sounds of men yelling and the begrudgingly familiar wooden walls of the infirmary that surrounded me.BOOM!The little wooden room shook again. The sound was so deafening that my ears began to ring, and my brain pounded in my skull like it was trying to forcibly hammer its way out.A surge of adrenaline coursed through me and I sat up, looking around the room for Ollie or the kid with the stutter or the surgeon dude, but for once, I was alone.Fucking typical. Now that I actu
(Morgan's POV)Four days... FOUR DAYS?! I'd been asleep for four fucking days?!Was that normal? Or... Had I been drugged or something?I lay there, panic enveloping my body as I tried to feel myself.Of course, the first thing that crossed my mind was sexual assault. Did I feel anything in that area? Pain? Tenderness? Anything out of the ordinary?I lay there, completely still, just doing a mental stocktake of each and every pain or discomfort I felt in my body.To my relief, there was no pain in my nether regions, but I knew that didn't mean everything was perfectly fine. I wasn't that naive. But I kept going, trying to establish whether there might be any other signs or indications.The left side of my body ached. I'd been lying on my side for four days, so, I guess that checked out. The right side of my body burned and stung. But that was the sunburn. My head was sore too. The back, where the stitches were, was still vaguely tender, but the side where I'd felt the start of a scab
(Morgan's POV)I woke up, feeling groggy and thirsty."Water," I rasped, my throat dryer than fucking sand.Footsteps sounded behind me. The boy. What was his name again? Olli?But it wasn't him. It was another boy. A bit older. Somehow familiar.He stopped beside me and handed me the rusty biohazard tin cup of water.I reached out, taking it with a grateful, albeit trembling hand.Small sips...The boy watched me intently as I somehow managed to restrain myself, only allowing myself a couple of slow, small sips.He was in his teens, with awkward, gangly limbs and scruffy light brown hair. His skin was pale, but he had ruddy cheeks with freckles over his nose, and he dressed similarly to that Ollie kid. Oversized shirt that looked like it had never seen soap in its life and pants that were being kept together by random patchwork.He seemed nervous. On edge. His eyes darting between me and the cup."So, who are you?" I whispered, wondering where the little kid had gone and who this dude
(Morgan's POV)I tried to settle in. To get some rest like the medical professional had suggested, but the boy just sat there in front of me, staring."I can't rest while you're watching me," I hissed. "Don't you have something to do?"He shrugged. "The Captain said to keep watch. I’m not to leave you alone."I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Where would I even go? I’m on a frikken boat in the middle of the ocean."He was quiet for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Is Morgan your real name?"I rolled my eyes again, the action making my brain throb harder. "Why would I lie about my name?"The boy shrugged again. "It's just a strange name for a girl. And you are a girl. I know because you've got bosoms."I gasped in horror and tried to tuck my burned right arm over my chest to hide my boobs from his gaze."You're a very rude little boy, you know that?" I scolded him.He carried on like he'd done nothing wrong. "And why are you only dressed in your smallclothes?"Smallclothes?! Jesus Chris