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“OW!” I BITE MY LIP and squeeze my eyes closed, trying not to make another sound. Every time Bradley walks past me he has an urge to slap me. He’s already punched me in the back of my head. It was right after I made eye contact with him while he was tying my wrists together and forcing me to sit on the floor. The punch hurt bad and made me loopy, so I definitely won’t be making eye contact with him again.
I’m also trying to keep my mouth shut, especially now since the boat has stopped. I couldn’t get a scream out earlier when Bradley kidnapped me, gagging and overpowering me. After he dragged me onboard and we got a little far from shore, he paused the boat for a few minutes, making it known he liked the crying and whining. He pulled the gag to tell me to shut up, but I figured out the more noise I make, the more excited he gets.
I hear Bradley fumbling. I keep my eyes closed until I feel a hard knock on my shin that immediately throbs. I recall kicking Henry in the shin.
“Hey,” Bradley says snidely, but when I don’t respond, he kicks me again.
“What?” I growl and keep my sights on his leather shoes.
He squats in front me. “Don’t fucking have an attitude with me, Cookie. You’re not the one who lost an eye.”
“Don’t call me Cookie. My name is Kumi—Ah!”
I feel a tight pull at my top as it loosens when Bradley cuts my top away with a sharp knife. I can’t help but whimper as my body tenses at the glint of sharp steel gliding along the middle of my torso and up towards my breastbone. The scratchy feeling of blade against skin is painless, but my entire body fills with antagonizing dread, which peaks with nausea as Bradley slides the knife under the small link of fabric at the center of my bra.
Bradley turns the blade and yanks—cutting the bra loose and my breasts free. “Look at that,” he says. “You have no idea how bad I wish I could look at those two tits with both eyes.”
My eyes dart to Bradley’s and I realize I’ve made a mistake. I told myself I wouldn’t make eye contact with him. I’m searching his face—my eyes rolling side to side. It’s not on purpose; it’s automatic to search for both blue irises, but he lacks one.
The search infuriates him. It’s obvious he’s feeling inadequate with me looking at him—at the patch. He grimaces, grits his teeth, and smacks me.
Spit flies in my face when Bradley speaks. It stings worse than the backhand. “You’re the reason I lost my eye!”
“That’s crazy,” I snap back. “I’m not responsible for a bunch of dumb birds.” I guess I am in a way, but Bradley is the one ultimately responsible for attempting to rape me.
He tugs at the rest of my shirt and my bra with the knife setting my entire upper body free of fabric and he glares at my tattoo. “You know, I’ve never been with a chick like you.”
Chick like me? “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Raunchy. Slutty. The kind of girl that likes it hard.” Bradley licks his lips. “The kind of girl that likes it dirty.”
I panic, pulling at my tied wrists, as Bradley moves in to kiss me while digging his fingers between my legs. I gather my legs to squeeze them together as Bradley hooks his fingertips under my denim shorts and I knee him, right in the mouth.
“Ah fuck!” curses Bradley, swiping his pierced bloody lip with the pad of his thumb. He looks at his thumb; his eye and face turn as red as the blood smeared over it.
“You fucking cunt!” he snaps, as he yanks at my hair and points the tip of his knife at my eye.
I’m screaming between weeps. I can’t help it. He’s teasing me with the sharp thing and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Open your eyes!” he yells, gripping my jaw. “I’m taking at least one of them. An eye for an eye.”
“No, please,” I whine. I want to kick him. I want to knee him again, but I don’t. I can’t! I feel paralyzed. I feel like he can do whatever he wants and if I move even an inch, he’ll pop my eye out.
Tears start flowing and he lets up a bit then kisses me. His lips have pinned my head hard against the boat behind me and his tongue, slathered in thick saliva, enters my mouth. I want to bite him and spit him out but the point of the knife is now at my temple, making a tiny indent that stings. I have no choice but to let him invade my mouth. I feel powerless and dirty—exactly how he wants me.
Bradley finally pulls away, examining me once more. “I don’t think I could fuck you without that pretty face. I might have to fuck you first before I shame you.” He scratches his head and looks over my shoulder. “Unless?”
“No,” I mutter.
Bradley brings the knife to the eye of the dragon. “Oh yeah,” he smirks. “Now that isn’t exactly a fair trade, but I think I’d like you a lot better without that trashy branding staring at me.”
My heart is pounding. I almost wish it would pound harder—so hard to the point my heart would pop so I would not have to endure this torture. I look to Bradley one more time in hopes I can make a plea, though it’s pointless. He’s biting his lower lip with a fixed eye focused on the carving he’s about to initiate and I feel the blade poke into my right shoulder.
A squeal escapes my vocal chords and I squirm with the small slice of pain and then I feel another squirm. Movement races under my skin and travels swiftly from where the knife is pressed, down along my spine, and hides behind my back.
“What the fuck?” Bradley shouts and falls backward on his ass. He looks me in the eye then looks to my left. His eyes widen as the dragon beneath my skin slithers from behind my back and up my underarm to stare back at him.
“You’re a fucking witch!” he cries out, holding the knife pointed at me.
I shake my head.
“You’re either a witch or you’ve been cursed by one.” Bradley’s eyes sparkle with crazed lunacy at the revelation. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you were left on the beach with no escape.” I shake my head, but he continues. “That’s why the birds attacked. That is why I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since we met, my mind has been obsessed with you. I’m under some kind of spell.”
I want to tell Bradley it’s not true, that everything going on in his mind is of his own making and that he’s just a sick fuck that gets off on hurting living things.
“I need to kill you,” he says, his eyes wild with disillusion. “I need to kill you before you curse someone else, but first I need to get that tattoo off of you so I can free you of your own curses. I can save you. I can free your soul from witchcraft.”
His words force a flood to flow from my eyes. “Bradley, think about what you’re saying!”
Bradley fists my hair to pull my head back and lays the tip of the knife into my stretched, arched neck. My tat winds itself around my arm, which captures his attention but is not helping as his conviction to conquer the magic and overpower it becomes more apparent in his actions.
“Aaaaggghhh!”
Bradley yanks my head as he follows the dragon’s head with the knife, but the dragon moves to my back. Bradley pushes me forward so my back faces him as he searches for the critter that is running all over my body to avoid being stabbed. I am tossed and turned quickly and cannot stop screeching as Bradley chases the dragon under my skin with the point of his knife, eager to stab me with it.
Bradley finally gets frustrated and yanks my head back by the hair again. I feel a slight tiny pierce in my flesh below my jawline and I scream! Adrenaline surges through my body until my mouth slams shut as both Bradley and I jostle unintended together.
Something’s hit the boat.
We rock back and forth. Bradley tumbles on top of me and grabs my arm to steady himself as the boat sways.
“What is that?” he asks.
I don’t reply, although I have a strong suspicion.
The boat shakes violently and Bradley grips me tighter, except this time he’s clinging to my neck.
“What the fuck is that?” he yells again as he continues to choke me. The whole boat begins to tip to one side. Things toss and slide about—random stuff, sharp stuff, all his fishing gear flips and pours out of storage. Bradley grips me tighter as he tries to block things out of the way to keep them from hitting him, but I don’t care because I can’t breathe!
“What the fuck is that?” Bradley shouts one more time as the boat keeps tipping over to one side.
I am gagging, struggling to breathe. Bradley’s weight crushes me when the boat lands hard and flat back against the ocean’s surface. The jarring releases his grip on me and I can breathe again.
Bradley gets up and races to the guns on the wall where he yanks a rather large one and opens a drawer, taking out what looks like a dart.
“What...what are you going to do?” I ask, my voice coarse.
“Something is under the boat. I’m going to tranq it,” he says as he loads the gun.
“Can you cut me free?” I plead.
“Fuck no. If it’s hungry, I might have to use you as baaa—ay—AY!”
I watch in horror as Bradley’s face comes crashing to the floor. A large purple tentacle has gripped him by the ankle and is making its way up his leg to bend and break every bone from his toes to his ankle then his shin to his knee, crushing all of it. I shut my eyes. I can’t watch!
Bradley is screaming with unimaginable pain when suddenly he pauses. I peep with one eye to see him get control of himself for a brief second to aim the gun and fire.
The tentacle lets go of Bradley’s leg. My eyes follow the long purple appendage as it slips off the boat and the next thing I know, I’m dangling! My whole body is hanging!
I look down into the water as the whole boat is being flipped. I take a big breath. All I feel at first is a rush of cold until the boat lands hard on my hands and pushes me down until I’m consumed by seawater.
I panic. It’s not just the water that I fear, but also the boat on top of me. It’s pushing me down further—into the dark. One light of the boat remains lit though it’s starting to flicker. I kick my feet and yank at my wrists and I feel a hand on my lower back. I turn to see Orphelius and he’s enormous.
For a moment, I forget I’m in distress and need to breathe. Seeing Orphelius like this—his lower half spanning my entire panoramic view of the deep blue ocean is hugely incredible. He looks like something pulled right out of a fairytale or perhaps reanimated from an ancient mythological sculpture. I am in awe of him until I notice the tranquilizer dart—the one Bradley must’ve shot him with and is still stuck at his side. I try to speak.
A wave of water floods my throat, filling my stomach, and I feel heavy—I’m drowning.
Orphelius notices my distress but he kisses me, of course, before he tugs at the ties to my wrists to set me free and pull me through the water that turns black as the boat light goes out.
Once my face hits the surface, my body feels a sense of release and relief. My lungs expand until I tense once again.
It’s dark. The stars are the only things that twinkle with virtually no light to help at all. I turn and see the marina in the distance—a long way off. I hear a gasp and I can barely make out the head of Orphelius.
“You’re going to—” he gurgles.
“Orphelius!” I yell, grabbing him.
“Let go, you need to...”
I dip my head under the water and feel around his waist. When I feel the tranquilizer dart I yank it right out and come back up.
“Swim to shore, Ku...Ku...” Orphelius’ head begins to sink below the surface as something else rises out.
Damn it! We’re not alone and it’s not Bradley.
“Orphelius!” I yell and cling to him with both hands, but he’s sinking. He’s too heavy and he’s dragging us both down.
The faint view of a fin comes into view and now I’m scared. I think I’m more scared now than I was with Bradley. For whatever reason, I think I’d rather deal with getting beat than get eaten by a shark.
I dip my head below the water and grip under Orphelius’ arms. I kick. I kick hard. I’ve never been a really good swimmer, but fuck! This really shouldn’t be so difficult. I can barely get my face to the surface so I can take a breath as Orphelius is just too heavy and he’s slipping. “Orphelius, wake up, please!”
My head falls below the surface and I realize how exhausted I am. I want to swim back to the top, which is getting farther away; we are sinking. He’s going to drown me, but I don’t want to let go.
I think of Shelley. She told me I was going to have to make a choice whether I wanted to live or die. She also told me if I didn’t believe in Orphelius, I would die.
I do believe in him. I do believe that after everything he’s been through, the only thing he ever wanted was for me was to live.
I squeeze him between my hands to grip him one last time and I let him slip from my fingers.
The water feels thick. I feel as though I am suspended in a big black vat of loneliness. I debate if it’s worth kicking my feet at all, especially since I know there’s a shark nearby. I can’t hear it. I can’t see it. But I know it’s waiting for Orphelius to be completely clear of me.
A rubbery sensation glides under my fingertips and I smile to myself. I recognize the feeling and I hear a click, then a whistle, and a few more clicks. Kicking my feet, I slowly bring myself back up and I can see why Orphelius was so desperate to save the dolphin pup.
Once I reach the surface, a whole family of dolphins surrounds me. I can hardly see them, only hear their chorus, a family chorus, of clicks and whistles. A hard fin pushes against my palm and I grab a hold of the animal I know is going to bring me to safety.
I’m completely fatigued by the time my toes touch a shallow ocean floor, but I thank the whole pod for bringing me to shore. I’m more thankful the pup has made it back to its mother.
It’s so dark and I have no idea where I am until I notice a glow that can only come from the mountain peak described in a story—mine and Orphelius’ story. It comforts me, reassures me, and I know exactly where I am.
I’m so tired—my lids heavy with a desire to shut. I crawl on my hands and knees, clumping and gritting at the sand as I go up a few feet until I collapse.
Sand has already made its way into my mouth and I decide to leave it there. It’s only two grains—two small pieces of a greater unknown that have somehow found a way to come to rest together in my mouth, in me.
