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Waiting can be the worst or best part of any event in life. But waiting in silence, not knowing if you or your family will make it out in one piece, that is true torture, a thing I wouldn't wish on my fiercest foe. At least, that’s what I thought until I heard them. Their words sending fear into me that had my ass puckering and my heart breaking. It only got worse from there.
Forced to hide in silence, waiting for Sawyr and Jax to do their part, I lay in wait, sending silent prayers into the galaxy. His head appears, eyes black as the abyss in the empty parts of the solar systems, and void of any humanity. Jaw clenched and the sound of the teeth grinding within him has my heart rising another notch with the fear he instills.
His face, fearsome, loathsome and undeniable. I might have taken a second glance if it weren't for his eyes. Hey, I’m a red-blooded man who loves muscles as much as every lily liveried woman. Except this man’s muscle is not meant for pleasure, which I’m reminded of when Sawyr’s scream from below has Mr. Nasty turning. Jumping out from behind the counter, I scream a high-pitched wail, worthy of any horror flick, that fills the silent air.
Knife raised I charge him, trying to land my knife near his heart. Instead, he jumps up the last steps, my knife embedding in his thigh. He looks down, laughing as he pulls it out, stalking towards me. Tripping, I land on my ass, with him towering over me. Backpedaling, I crawl away from him as fast as I can. His grin has my blood freezing, a devilish, toothy smile that sends ice down my spine and makes me crawl away like the welp that I am.
“Oh boy, I will have some fun playing with you.” Each word is accompanied by a step towards me until he stands above me, a large foot on either side of me. His large form, towering over me, impenetrable, frightening and confident. “Though you’re a little pasty for my taste,” he pauses, his hand running down his bare chest, forcing my eyes to follow.
“NO!” Roberd charges out of his room followed closely by Fynn. The two attack in tandem; Roberd using the stick as a bat, trying to knock him out as Fynn kicks him. He turns a sinister grin on his face, his hand catching Roberd’s stick. He breaks it in half, then throws the missile stick at Roberd, grazing his shoulder, blood pooling. Shock, then anger fill Roberd’s eyes. The look Roberd gives Mr. Nasty scares me as Roberd spins, foot raised kicking Nasty in the side, forcing Nasty to stumble back through the now open door of the workout room. Tiri must be monitoring things, doing what he can to help us.
Jumping up, I follow them into the room, between Roberd and Fynn they’re keeping Mr. Nasty from landing any punches that are too debilitating, but even I can see they are tiring. Looking around I see the pool box and an idea pops in my head. Without the heart monitor, the box can’t tell how high to raise the water or monitor the person swimming.
Quickly I run over to the box, pushing the button I had seen Akiyra use earlier. The door opens and upon reaching in, I push the button on the panel that’s marked for, deep swimming. Grabbing the monitor and putting it on my own chest, I step back and watch as Fynn kicks Mr. Nasty in the balls, causing him to grasp his pants, screaming out in agony as Roberd kicks him in the chest, as he stumbles backward, I prance around him, looking for the chance to get my own kick in; pushing him into the box.
Slamming my hand on the door to the control, I smile as it slides shut. His fate sealed as he looks from all of us in confusion and shock. I doubt he has ever seen anything like the box.
“Hope you can breathe underwater. I’m no man’s play toy unless I choose to be.” I yell, popping a hip. Proud of myself and my friends. I couldn’t have done this without them.
As the water rises, he starts to slap the opaque material, his screams becoming panicked and peppered with pleas that fall on deaf ears, “No, no, Please! I can’t swim!” I feel sweet victory hearing his splashes and gurgles as he wastes his last few breaths pleading with us. We won’t give up our newfound freedom, or our fairy godmother.
“Too bad for you. You should’ve thought of that before you decided to touch my ship,” Tiri’s crisp voice is hard and biting, signaling the end as it echoes throughout the ship. “Sawyr needs some help boys. Leave Mr. Muscle where he is, he will hold. Just don’t go swimming again till we can sanitize and get fresh water.”
“No shit, Tiri,” I mumble, running out of the room to the stairs, looking down to see Jax trying to hold Sawyr back from hacking the bloody, meaty messes that cover the stairs.
Jax looks up at me, his eyes wide. “I can’t get through to him. He keeps saying ‘Not my family. You can’t have them.”
I turn to see a look of horror on Fynn’s face, then we move simultaneously. “Sawyr? Sawyr? Give me the machete.” Fynn says, moving slowly towards him, hand outstretched.
“It’s over Sawyr. We’re all safe. Come here,” I reach him as Fynn takes the machete from his hand. I wrap Sawyr in a hug, his shoulders shake.
“I had to stop them. I couldn’t let them hurt you, hurt her.”
“It’s ok. They can’t hurt us.” I gently guide him around the mess. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then tell Akiyra what happened.”
I look up at Roberd standing at the top of the stairs. I shake my head and then point down at the mess. He mouths, “I got it,” as we pass him.
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