Time passed strangely. Maybe it was the darkness. Maybe it was my head trauma. Maybe I was dying and this was just how it felt.
I slouched down on a wooden box, gently petting my new furry friend who I had decided to call Oreo. He was soft and warm, a stark contrast to this new wooden cave I found myself in. It was cold down here and smelled, well, kinda bad.
There were boxes and barrels stacked up and tied down with rope. I was curious to check what was in them, but too lethargic to actually do anything about it. I wanted to sleep but I wasn't sure whether I should. Couldn't you die like that? Like, sleeping after a head trauma... couldn't that land you in a coma?
But still... I was tired, and the cat was warm and comforting, and I didn't have much else to do to distract myself. My phone had no signal down here, so it's not like TikTok was an option.
I think I must have dozed off, because suddenly, a blinding light appeared, searing through my closed eyes. It was even worse when I snapped them open, trying to figure out what was going on.
There was a lantern right in my face, blinding me.
The cat hissed and bounded away, taking with him the only small scrap of comfort I had.
The so-called captain loomed in front of me, his eyes catching the light of the lantern.
“Have ye answers for me then, lass?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
I scoffed, annoyed at having been woken up, blinded and asked stupid fucking questions. The world tilted and a surge of vertigo rippled through me as I sat up.
"Have ye a surgeon for me then, Captain?" I countered, mimicking his Irish accent.
He looked momentarily taken aback, but then pressed on.
"On this ship, the questions are mine to ask," he insisted, his voice dripping with firm authority.
I tried to roll my eyes, but it hurt like a bitch.
"Well, if I die, I'm going to guess you'll be answering a lot more questions, Captain," I sneered with disdain. "I'm gonna guess that murdering a tourist probably isn't going to be great for business. So, if I were you..." I trailed off, my train of thought completely derailing and plummeting somewhere deep into the abyss.
He paused like he was waiting for me to finish my sentence, but I couldn't remember what we'd even been talking about now and I just stared at him, feeling like his face was familiar.
"I want to know why ye were in that cave. Who sent ye?" he finally said, his tone stern.
God, the lantern light was killing me. It was so much better when it was just dark and quiet.
I shielded my eyes, fighting back the wave of nausea that started to crawl up my throat.
"No one sent me," I insisted, certain it was true. "We were exploring the cave. I was looking for the crystal cavern, and I somehow got separated from the rest of my group. It's not like I was trying to deface the place or anything. Like, it's not that deep, dude. Seriously, if my head gets infected, I'm gonna find you guys on social media and give you such a bad review."
I wanted to say more. I wanted to give him more shit. But talking just made me feel worse. It was like I could feel my own words rattling around in my skull like loose bolts in an empty bucket.
The guy looked at me like I'd gone mad. Like I had literally lost my mind.
I saw it in his face, the hesitation. The uncertainty.
Good. Because I was done playing games now.
I glared at him indignantly, trying my best to show him that I meant business, but God knows how it came across. I probably looked like I was trying to survive a fucking monster hangover or something.
He huffed, clearly annoyed.
"I’ll have my answers, woman. And they’d best not be riddled with madness. Else ye’d best know how to swim."
Was this dude being fucking serious right now? Was he seriously threatening me when he'd been the one to drag me here and tell me I needed medical attention?! Like, the audacity!
For real, as soon as I had signal, I was going to give them the shittiest review possible. I didn't care if this was some bullshit fucking method acting or if my so-called friends put him up to this or whatever. It wasn't cool.
Before I could protest though, he started walking away again.
Can't say I was sad to see him or the lantern go. I might have called him back, but I was too annoyed and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I wasn't about to beg. I wasn't going to be the one to give in. He couldn't just leave me like this indefinitely. He was going to have a PR nightmare on his hands if anything happened to me, which gave me some tiny comfort.
Oreo reappeared like the godsend he was, hopping up on the crate beside me silently, his fur brushing against my elbow.
"You should talk to your HR department," I said, giving him a rub behind the ears. "This is definitely a toxic work environment."
The cat didn't reply, but he climbed onto my lap and began to purr.
(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