Ocean's Captive

by D. S. Wrights

  It? It looks like a ‘he.’

  The creature looked male and incredibly human. And yet Angeline had never seen any man before who was so painfully, unearthly handsome. His skin from head to his lower chest was pale like marble, slightly shimmering pearly. The color turned darker the lower it went. Below what should be his hips his skin turned into almost black. He had no legs but a long fishtail, which reminded Angie of a koi carp – an expensive Asian breeding fish – while the texture of his skin reminded her of a dolphin rather than a fish; since it appeared to be smooth and without scales.

  He was pressing both his hands against the tank as he was staring right back at her. Angie could see that the back of his arms and probably his back were black or dark grey as well. His hair, which was wafting around his head like weightless silk, looked silvery at the hairline and turned darker towards the tips. But what absolutely stunned Angie was the expression on his face, his lips forming a thin line, his brows furrowed. He looked worried and yet determined.

  “It looks like it’s pouting,” the other man said, who Angie could now see from the corners of her eyes, but she still was not able to pull herself from the sight in front of her.

  This could not be real. She had to be delirious. She had to be still lying on the bottom of that tank, slowly dying. Yet, as she looked at his long, slender fingers, Angie could see they were tipped with fine claws. These claws had pierced her skin as he grabbed her.

  As if her body wanted to confirm her assumption, Angie could sense the tiny burning cuts in her skin, while the heat slowly reclaimed her limbs.

  What was he?

  A siren?

  A merman?

  Angie noticed that she was frowning and shaking her head. She never had heard or read anything about a creature like this, at least not in science books. And in fairy tales, the lower body part was covered with shiny tales. His body, however, didn’t show any scales. But who knew if any depictions of mystical creatures were correct or even true?

  There she sat now, face to face with some sort of mythical creature and her mind was actually trying to make sense of it.

  What Angie could agree on with full determination, was that this creature was not a whale.

  “Maybe, because we took her away,” a third male voice was suggesting. “It could be hungry.”

  “It should be, we haven’t given it anything to eat since we took it on board,” the man hunkering down next to her stated, pulling her attention back towards him, even though reluctantly.

  “Get up, girl,” he told her, but didn’t give Angie even a moment of time to obey.

  Instead, he grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up, making her feel like a ragdoll. A forceful jerk of his arm and Angie stood face to face with the creature again. He had moved along with her, and the second their glances locked, Angie’s field of vision had her mesmerized again.

  The sounds and noises faded, and everything around her felt as if she was underwater once more. At the edge of her perception, the man holding her neck, said something to her, but she couldn’t understand it. All Angie could perceive at that moment, was the eerily beautiful creature.

  Boom!

  Angie jumped, and her heart started racing as she was pulled back to reality; her senses working again. He had slammed his palms against the glass wall of his tank, startling her. She was staring at him now, or rather his bared teeth, a row of thin, sharp fangs. Angie instantly knew they were sharp like razors. They reminded her of piranhas, but these teeth were much larger. They were terrifying to look at.

  Angie was forced to move forward until her forehead was pressed against the glass. Desperately she fought against the force, bringing her hand up and she pressed her palms against the glass that separated her from the creature.

  The blanket slid from Angie’s shoulders and exposed her barely covered body to the cold night air and gusts of wind. Her upper thighs collided with the wooden planks framing the tank.

  “Did you hear me?” The man tossing her around asked her, and she shook her head.

  “See, this just proves me right.” Angie had no idea if he was talking to himself or her now, until the man addressed her: “I said, it’s just as dangerous as it is beautiful, girl.”

  Angie blinked, but the creature wasn’t in front of her anymore. Still, her mind was filled with pictures of those sharp teeth tearing through her flesh.

  “It almost killed you,” the man told her again.

  Suddenly, the pressure against her neck was gone, but she was grabbed by her shoulders just a second later. Angeline almost lost balance as her body was turned around, and her back pushed against the tank.

  “Don’t get this close to the tank again, and he will not be able to grab you, understood?”

  He addressed her again, and Angie nodded.

  The guy seemed to be friendly. But that didn’t make any sense. He and his guys killed her friends.

  “What's your name?” he asked, sounding friendly with a facial expression that fit, but Angie didn’t trust him; she could still remember the noise of her friends’ bodies being tossed into the water.

  “Angeline Malboury,” she answered.

  Angie didn't want to find out what would happen if she wasn't cooperating.

  “My friends call me Angie,” she quickly added.

  “You know we cannot let you go, Angie,” the man still pushing her back against the tank told her. “Not right now. Do you understand?”

  Angie wanted to appear composed, but she couldn’t get out a confirmation, so she simply nodded.

  “If you do what I say, nothing will happen to you,” the man let go of her and rubbed his scruff seemingly without noticing it; Angie nodded again. “Good. We’ll get you inside and warmed up. Hank!”

  Angie felt a wave of relief washing over her, followed by disappointment and fear, as the man who had been called walked towards her. Unlike the bearded guy, who appeared to be the boss, this Hank looked like a human version of a shark, without the teeth.

  The guy in charge seemed less threatening than skinny-lean Hank, who reached around her shoulders to nudge her forwards to the prow.

  “Get her something warm to drink, will you?” Angie heard the-guy-in-charge bark after them.

  Angie’s mind was paralyzed again, as she stepped through the door Hank quickly opened for her. But now it wasn’t a dazzling, spell-like trance but rather a realization that she had been caught.

  No one would come for her. Her friends were all dead. No one else knew where she was. But maybe, if she was behaving cooperatively, they could come to an agreement. Angeline’s parents were rich after all.

  “Sit,” Hank ordered, and she obeyed, sitting down on the bench in the corner of the kitchen chamber.

  He turned his back on her and switched on the electric kettle. Before Angie’s glance could start to roam around in the small room, it already was glued to what was sticking out of the waistband of Hank’s pants: a gun. In a movie, the heroine would now quickly grab the weapon and take her captor captive, saving herself and ordering the yacht to be turned around. But this wasn’t a film, and Angie was no hero. Even more so, the fact struck her that the yacht was moving. She could sense how they were rocking slightly, she heard the engine running almost silently. Her senses had already noticed as she had woken up.

  “Like what you see?” Hank’s question ripped her from her train of thought, and she realized she was now staring at his crotch.

  Quickly, she shook her head.

  “I know you’re staring at my gun, girl.” He stated.

  This man’s glare and the way he scoffed made Angie miss the blanket she had been covered with before. Quickly she looked around but didn’t find anything comparable. She could feel him watching her while the water started boiling. All she was wearing was her bikini, which wasn’t really covering her body and this guy was ogling her, obviously not caring if he made her feel uncomfortable or not.

  “How old are ya’?” he suddenly asked, and Angie
froze after automatically turning her head towards him; she felt like a deer in the headlights. “Sixteen?”

  Angie wasn’t sure if he was trying to compliment her or if he didn’t know how to guess her age.

  The snapping sound of the electric kettle made her jump and her involuntarily answer: “Twenty-three.”

  “You look younger,” Hank explained and turned around to prepare her tea.

  “I know,” Angie responded, telling herself now wasn’t the time to become rude.

  “Here,” Hank handed her the mug, holding it by the rim so she could take the handle. “It’ll take nasty, but it’ll warm you up and help you sleep. After almost drowning you should take a nap.”

  He seemed almost chatty now.

  “Get up,” he ordered again, and she obeyed. “The boss’ cabin is at the end of the hall,” Hank gestured, telling her to hurry up, and she did.

  The moment Angie stepped into the small room she noticed there was only a large bed.

  “Get some rest,” the man with the shark-like face told her, as Angie turned around to look at him, and pointed at the blankets on the bunk and then closed the door locking it behind him.

  Angie instantly looked for a way out only to see that the small windows, which were located opposite to the door had no handles, but only latches to open them a little bit. Her legs started to shake, and her knees buckled. She had no other option than to sit down on the bed. Since the tea was too hot to hold it for too long, Angie placed the mug down on the nightstand there was beside her. Reluctantly she pulled on one of the blankets and sniffed it for odors. Luckily it didn’t smell and was rather soft as if they had been freshly cleaned. Angie quickly wrapped herself into all the blankets; first one and then a second.

  Still, the cold would not let go of her. So, she reached for the mug again and took a careful sip. The guy had been right. It tasted awful.

  3 – Captives

  Angeline woke up relaxed but groggy. She had never known that she could feel both, at the same time.

  Yet, she did. And, her head was aching. While her body had taken the chance to regenerate, her mind appeared to need more time to fully wake up and take in her surroundings. Maybe it was because of the strange drink Hank had given her. She had almost instantly fallen asleep, after forcing it down her throat.

  Hank… exactly.

  Angie wasn’t in her own small bunk of her family’s yacht but was in the sleeping chamber of Hank’s unnamed boss. Somewhere out there in the middle of the ocean maybe, heading to a place she did not know.

  Angeline’s limbs were tangled in several blankets and sheets. For a moment she felt like a fish caught in a net. However, remembering what creature she had met the night before – if she really had met it and not made the whole thing up in her delirious state – this metaphor seemed terribly wrong.

  The hammering against the seemingly thin door obviously was why she had woken up. The air in the small and confined room was stale and stuffy. She should have opened one of the windows before she went to sleep.

  “I’m awake!” she shouted louder than she had planned.

  In response, the door was opened by the person who owned the bed she had slept in. Instead of wishing her a good morning, the grumpy looking bearded man tossed a large tee right into her face. Probably one of his own. Angie did her best not to grumble or sound anything other than grateful and shy. She had no idea how he would react if she behaved like a bratty child. First, he had left her his bed, second, she had sneaked onto his yacht, trying to free something he had imprisoned, and third: his men had killed her friends. That hadn’t been a dream.

  The best thing she could do was to be cooperative and reasonable. None of these characteristics were her fortes, but she had to try.

  After she had put on the shirt, which felt like a tent on her tiny frame, the boss gestured for her to get up and leave the room, with him leading the way. In the kitchen was another mug waiting for her and a bowl filled with cereal. The delicious scent of coffee was filling the room.

  “Sit. Eat.” The bearded boss ordered, appearing a lot less friendly than before she had fallen asleep.

  Maybe, because he didn’t have his bed, Angeline pondered.

  “Thank you for giving me your bed to sleep in last night,” she quickly said as he was turning to leave the prow.

  The man hesitated but didn’t turn towards her or answered in any way. Angie felt a different kind of cold now. For a moment she thought it might have been better for her to drown in that tank. Although nothing had happened to her just now. Angie couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread and a strange feeling of apprehension.

  About five minutes passed before the bearded man was back again and gestured her to get up and out of the kitchen. She assumed someone was either waiting for her on the bridge or at the tank. Bear’s nudge at her right shoulder showed her the way to the stern of the yacht. It felt more like a push, but that was probably just due to his size. Knowing she was wearing his t-shirt made her feel awkward suddenly because she only knew one way to get a shirt from a guy and that hadn’t been how she got the piece of clothing today.

  Angeline uneasily pulled at the bottom of the shirt, trying to make it even longer than it already was.

  She became painfully aware of the fact that she was still only wearing her bikini and she was walking barefoot onto the deck.

  In the far-right corner of the yacht, right where the handrail ended, was leaning a tall man, wearing white pants and a white polo shirt, which only emphasized his tanned skin. He was smoking a cigar, while he was watching the uncovered tank through a pair of silver tinted sunglasses. His attention might have been drawn to her as Angeline came on deck. But she wouldn’t have known, because his head didn’t move, and she wasn’t able to see if his eyes moved from the merman towards her.

  This had to be the real boss of the whole thing.

  There was no way for Angie so stop or slow down as the bearded man, whom she decided to call ‘Bear’ was still walking behind her and his mere presence was hustling her onward.

  Yet, Angie tried to take in her surroundings. As she had assumed, they were somewhere at sea. She couldn’t see any land, but then she didn’t have the time to look in the distance.

  It was when the man dressed in white, took the cigar from his mouth and turned towards them that Bear stopped invading Angie’s space and allowed her to stop walking. Out of instinct she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “That’s the girl?” he asked, addressing ‘Bear’ who was standing behind her and in his voice resonated disbelief.

  This very disbelief hurt Angeline’s pride, even though she had no idea what this man didn’t believe about her. Before she could stop herself, Angie had inhaled deeply and straightened up, pushing her chest out like a cocky chicken.

  Instantly, she felt her own stupidity, and her face started burning in shame. She should have continued to be timid, shy, embarrassed and especially reasonable. Yet, her gut told her that this behavior, any behavior would help her ease the situation. She knew what she had done or rather had tried to do, and there was no way of getting around it.

  Angie wanted to reply instead of Bear, who simply grunted, but at that very moment, she reminded herself there had been no land in sight. Quickly, Angie took the chance to look around once more, but there still was no land, no matter where she turned her head.

  A wave of cold rushed over Angeline, making her tremble and pull her arms even tighter around her torso. This t-shirt was too thin to shield her from the cold winds of the ocean.

  “You don’t look like the activist type, darling,” the man in white said as he stepped towards her.

  This man appeared to be the personification of an arrogant billionaire. Unfortunately, also the kind which simply paid off his enemies or removed them if they became a nuisance. The criminal kind.

  Now, Angie could see his black, slightly wavy hair was starting to turn gray at his temples, too, just like ‘Bear’s. His polo shirt
buttons were undone, and his hairy chest showed through. Everything about him oozed greasiness and in Angie’s eyes he was the perfect image of a southern European billionaire, who used his money and his Greek god looks to get women.

  Angie had grown up with money and far too many good-looking people. So, what this man regarded as his charm was sliding off her like petty rain. He instantly noticed and cocked his brow, which was looming above the top of his large sunglasses.

  “Usually I would let you go after spanking some sense into you,” he started, which was probably a lie, and still Angie almost shuddered with disgust, as she couldn’t help but imagine the scene.

  The man dressed in white stepped closer toward her and took a draw from his cigar. “Or maybe would have given you to the guards to handle your… trespassing.” He pointed to the man behind her. “But Roger here told me what happened yesterday, so, unfortunately, I cannot let you go.”

  The way he looked at her made Angeline feel sick. Still, she wondered what exactly Roger had told his boss about yesterday. A part of her was also disappointed that this man in white was the boss and not Roger.

  “My men have been in contact with the coast guard, and police and no one has reported you missing,” the boss continued and took another step towards her.

  Now, he was close enough that she could smell the stench of his cigar. And close enough for him to reach out to her and take her chin between his thumb and index finger. He forced her chin upwards, and Angie was left no choice but to look in the two lenses of silver mirrors as he studied her face. The hand with his cigar reached past her and as it returned it was empty.

  “So,” the tone of his voice turned from rational to chilly, “It looks like I have two captives on my yacht now.”

  Instantly, a wave of cold rushed across Angie’s skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Her stomach vanished in a bottomless hole. She desperately wanted to pull away, to get out of the iron grasp this man had on her face, but something told her that she would simply end up angering the man who had her life in his grasp, so she stayed still.