Ocean's Captive

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Ocean's Captive Page 5

by D. S. Wrights


  “If no one sees them, no one will know,” she said, calmly, and she waited for Roger to react; he just stared at her, saying nothing. “If someone realizes I’ll tell them you gave them to me.” He blinked once, still silent listening to Angeline’s words, as she added: “They still had price tags on them, when you did.” Now he slowly nodded, once. “Could you ask Hank for some pants?”

  Angie had no idea where to put Roger’s hesitant reaction. He nodded briefly and got up without saying a word.

  Maybe she was wrong with her assumption, and this lingerie belonged to a different crew member? Still, no one who was currently onboard could fit into them. Or maybe Roger had received them from his girlfriend? Or were these his boss’ lingerie?

  The door slamming shut was what brought her back to reality. She should stop wondering about whose underwear she had found and start working on a plan for how to get herself out of this dangerous situation; and to free Maelstrom in the process.

  Just because these men hadn’t touched her, didn’t mean that they wouldn’t do that in the future and right now she was trying to play chess without knowing if Roger played the same game with her; or if they were playing at all.

  If Angie couldn’t converse with the male siren, the only way to keep herself from harm would probably be jumping off the yacht and hope these guys wouldn’t turn around for her. And even if they didn’t, she would definitely die, unless something miraculous did happen.

  And all this chaos was the result of wanting to save marine life from being put in some small tank to be ogled at by dumb humans. For the blink of an eye, Angie wished Maelstrom and her could trade places.

  Angeline hadn’t moved at all when Roger returned with what she had asked for, just moments before. He tossed a pair of jeans with legs that had been cut off and a worn tank top. From the looks of these, they would fit her almost perfectly.

  Were these really Hank’s?

  Or did all of them hide their girlfriend’s stuff on the yacht they were working on?

  Angie didn’t want to pursue that thought any further, but she couldn’t help herself when she sniffed at the clothing Roger had offered her.

  They were fresh and clean. Angie chose to not utter a word about these clothes, and she put them on.

  “Thank you,” she spoke, calmly, looking straight at Roger, who simply nodded.

  “You are going to talk to him,” he told her and added after a moment of rethinking. “Communicate with him.”

  “What do you need to know?” Angie tried to be helpful, but her question was met with an angry glare.

  “Just prove you can talk to him and we’ll take it from there,” Roger retorted, gruffly.

  Angeline decided to not ask why communicating with Maelstrom was so important. She really wanted to know why, but she was sure Mr. Grumpy Bear wouldn’t tell her, no matter how innocently or nicely she asked.

  “I will,” she responded, honestly.

  Roger got up and left once more. This time, he didn’t lock the door behind him.

  Why did she feel like she was making a deal with the devil? Angie knew she was way too calm for this situation. She still had no idea what she was getting herself into and was just trying to make sure she stayed safe and unharmed.

  So, why wasn’t she panicking? Was she in shock? …Or, was she meant to be here?

  Standing up, she closed the zipper and button of cut-off jeans, which were a tad too wide for her. Yet, Angeline knew if she should get into the water tank wearing these clothes it would shrink to sit tight on her hips.

  As she left the bunk and walked through the small kitchen towards the door, it dawned on her that she would have to take off her clothes again. Otherwise, the detergent, which still was inside the fibers of the fabric, would poison the water Maelstrom was living in. These men might not truly care about the merman, but she did.

  Angeline would have to try a different way to get to talk to him. Or maybe she didn’t have to be inside the water tank with him. Just reaching into the tank and touching him would do the trick. But if Roger or one of his men realized it would be that easy, they wouldn’t need her.

  She would have to be imaginative.

  Stepping onto the yacht’s deck, Angeline could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Angie did her best to avoid the glances and stares directed at her as she walked towards the tank. Although Maelstrom wasn’t waiting for her at the glass wall, staring at her like the men did, she could see his silhouette in the murky water.

  He knows something is up, Angeline thought and did her best to not let her glance move away from her destination.

  They were all waiting for her to succeed or fail. It would have a positive outcome for these people either way.

  None of them seemed to notice that she suddenly was wearing normal clothes rather than a blanket, but it didn’t make any difference to Angie in a matter of how it made her feel being gawked at by them. It was almost the same experience as when she walked down the long set of stairs at the debutante ball her mother forced her to attend.

  Angeline suppressed a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment to focus her attention on the path she was walking on, literally and figuratively. There was just one thing that mattered: getting them both out of here, unharmed. But Angie was willing to be bruised and battered in the process. She knew she had been lucky all her life until that fateful night.

  Without turning around or looking up, she walked towards the ladder at the left side of the tank. She had decided to make those men believe communicating with Maelstrom was based on being inside the water, at least partially. From what she had learned they didn’t dare to get too close to the merman, without a stun rod. None of them would voluntarily put their head into the same water as Maelstrom was swimming in. Angeline remembered very well hearing that the male siren had ‘eaten’ a few crew members.

  Reaching the end of the ladder, she kneeled on the broad metal steps, grateful for the jeans being just long enough for the metal not cutting into her skin. She knew she had to be grateful for the little things right now.

  Angie inhaled a few times quickly to fill her lungs with as much oxygen as possible before she swung forward and submerge her head in the tank’s water. Silently, she begged Maelstrom would understand what she was trying to do.

  What Angeline didn’t expect was for him to be there, right in front of her, as soon as she opened her eyes to look for him. His face was just a few inches away from hers. A part of her knew she should feel uneasy or even frightened to look into those two dark pools that were his eyes, but she wasn’t.

  She wanted to jump into the tank right away.

  “I need to show them I’m in control and not in over my head,” Angeline told herself loudly in her mind. “They need to believe I am irreplaceable. Help me do that.”

  Forming these thoughts was ridiculous. At least that’s what Angeline believed. If Maelstrom could eavesdrop on her thoughts, he wouldn’t understand them. They weren’t even talking the same language. If they could communicate then through images, maybe emotions, but Angie had a hard time imagining that.

  “How do I know your name?” she asked in her head, feeling confused and uncertain when there was no clear response to her request.

  Suddenly, she felt like she was being sucked in a vortex and she had a clear picture of a maelstrom in her head. How on earth could she show him what her name was? The only idea she had was imagining something like an angel, and her parents hoping for her to be like one. Because that for certain was the reason for them to name her that.

  “I wish you could talk,” Angie wanted to sigh and remembered only then her head was still under water.

  Right at that moment her impulse was to pull herself out of the water. Maelstrom was suddenly there. He caught her face with his hands and pulled her towards him. With one quick movement, his lips were on hers, giving her the oxygen she needed.

  Before she was about to lose herself in his kiss, he pulled away and looked at her, worried.
Maybe he was just as desperate to find a way to talk to her then as she was. But if he didn’t know a language made of words, grammar and phrasing, how could they find a way to communicate without misunderstanding each other?

  As Maelstrom moved his fingers, Angeline realized he was still holding her face and was now positioning his fingertips at her temples. Was he about to try and talk to her in a way she couldn’t imagine?

  Quickly she glanced sideways, trying to find out if anyone were watching closely enough to see what the male siren was doing. But in the end, she could always get out of the water and pretend he had talked to her.

  The very moment her eyes locked with his, Angie felt a pull of a different kind: as something sucked at her mind, trying to free it from her head as if it was something like a confining prison for her spirit. Her heart started racing even before she started panicking. Was he trying to kill her?

  Suddenly, Angeline remembered the sensation of being cradled in two strong arms. She felt endlessly small in a gigantic, threatening world, and still, she was content and safe.

  This was how she had felt as a child when her father had been holding her. She hadn’t been a child then. Angeline had been a toddler.

  “Safe,” she suddenly heard a voice speaking in her head, and it wasn’t hers, or her fathers.

  Although Angie had never heard this voice before she knew it was his, Maelstrom’s. Angeline had no idea how, but he had, in fact, just talked to her, even though it was just a single word.

  “Safe,” he repeated in her head, and Angie knew he was telling her she was safe with him.

  Angeline’s body had already realized this fact, and her heart was calming down. At least until Maelstrom moved again to give her another kiss of oxygen.

  What followed that was another experience of her past, picked from her mind like a ripe fruit. It was another slumbering memory she never recalled having any memory of how she was taken from her father’s arms, roughly, destroying her sense of safety and comfort. Although the memory stopped right there, Angeline knew it had been her mother ripping her from her father’s arms.

  “Not safe,” Maelstrom’s voice explained, and the image in her mind warped into those men who were watching them right now.

  “Yes,” Angeline confirmed, hoping the male siren would understand. “We are not safe with them.”

  “You,” Maelstrom emphasized, showing Angie an image of herself, from when she was standing outside the tank, desperately trying to cover her naked body.

  “Okay, I’m not safe,” Angie was a bit annoyed to be reminded of that fact.

  Her mind already was already circling around this ugly truth whenever she didn’t manage to direct her thoughts towards him; Maelstrom, the merman, who was rummaging in her memories.

  “You are angry?” he asked, and broke the kiss, as he moved backward, quickly.

  It was not only the tone of his voice but also the feeling of hurt that made her realize how she must have sounded.

  “No,” Angeline did her best to send him the right emotion along with that word. “It’s true. It’s the truth that makes me angry.”

  Now Maelstrom made a movement that reminded her of a nod. And even though he wasn’t kissing her, she still felt his confirmation coursing through her body. Maybe it was because he was still touching her with his fingertips.

  “We need a plan,” Angie stated, and his eyes were two big black questioning orbs.

  Of course, Maelstrom couldn’t understand those words. A plan was a concept, not a feeling. She had no idea how to explain that to him. Angie wasn’t sure, if she had done anything, or if he had truly understood her, because whatever it was, it made him move towards her and kiss her again.

  This time it felt just like the first time, although she wasn’t completely submerged. Angie couldn’t feel her skin, or the temperature, or the need to breathe. It was like being disconnected from her body, and her mind. Like being reduced or rather enhanced to her raw self, her emotions, and a completely different sense of her surroundings and herself.

  In this state, Maelstrom showed her what she had to do. There was no need for explanation, just the need to fulfill her task, her duty towards him. This time it felt as if he was sucking out the air from her lungs instead of replacing it. As he moved away from her, she got out of the water as quickly as possible. However, instead of sucking in the fresh air, she ran towards the railing. For the men watching her in confusion, Angeline was throwing up across the rail. But in truth, she was spitting out blood she had sucked into her mouth from when he had bit his lip and let go of a strand of his silvery-white hair.

  Angie had no idea if it was enough, and no idea if it would help in the first place. Yet, Maelstrom had ordered her to do this. He hadn’t explained the reason for her or asked her. It was an urgent command she had to follow. Angeline had no idea what would have happened if she had ignored it. Her entire being was horrified by the thought to not obey him.

  As Angeline straightened up, she could still taste his blood on her tongue and on her lips. It was a strange taste, a foreign one. And yet, it was still blood.

  She didn’t know if she should wash out her mouth or swallow the rest. But when Angie turned around to face the men who were watching her frowning and confused, she quickly licked her lips and swallowed. If this was poisonous to her, so be it.

  Standing there, looking at the men who obviously didn’t know what to do, Angeline felt as if she could sense Maelstrom’s blood coursing through her veins. It was a strange sensation to her, almost like when he was kissing her. She started to feel dizzy and shaky once again. Automatically, she reached for the railing, trying to steady herself. But it was not enough. For some scary reason, the vast sea next to the yacht had appeared to be so alluring and seductive to her. All she had to do was lean towards it and topple over the rail. The sea would welcome her in its cold but comforting embrace.

  “No!” Angie heard an austere command in her head even before Roger grabbed her upper arm and pulled her away from the railing.

  Maelstrom’s voice echoed in her mind with every step she took away from the water and towards the tank. It wasn’t her decision or choice to stare at those two black orbs which were watching her, possessively.

  Angeline stumbled towards the tank unable to take steady steps, but she didn’t need to. Roger was making sure she arrived where he wanted her to go.

  “Did you talk to him?” he inquired.

  All Angie could do was to nod, while her attention was on Maelstrom’s face.

  “What did he say?” Roger’s voice was thick with impatience.

  “That I am not safe with you,” Angeline answered without thinking twice.

  “What else?”

  “That I am safe with him,” she responded.

  She barely noticed the silence spreading between the humans on deck.

  “Why did you throw up?”

  Angie had no idea who was asking her this, but she didn’t care.

  “Because he was in my head,” she answered. “He messed with my head.” She added, knowing what it would imply, although it wasn’t the entire truth.

  “Hank,” it was clearly Roger now, who spoke, and shark-faced Hank obeyed, stepping next to her. “Get her back in the bunk. She needs to eat and sleep.”

  Angeline had no idea if the man answered using words or gestures, and she barely noticed the words spoken afterward, telling someone to inform their boss via radio.

  All she perceived was Maelstrom.

  Even when she stepped into the dimness of the cabin, her mind was still with him and what he had commanded her to do. And yet, Angeline hadn’t felt being pressured to do something she didn’t want to do. It was so much more like wanting to please him. She had sucked his blood from his bit lip and torn a strand of hair from his skull because he wanted her to. Angie probably would have done it if he had asked her nicely, even without an explanation. Yet, she was so desperate to know why Maelstrom had asked her to do this.

 
; Although Angeline did her best to figure out the reason for his request, she felt drugged all over again, and this was putting it nicely. As she sat down on Roger’s bed, she could watch her hands tremor again, harshly, as if she was freezing.

  Again, she wanted to get up and jump into the tank and wrap her arms around him tightly, to feel his skin against hers.

  Thinking of how it felt to be in his embrace was the last thing she thought of as she fell asleep. It felt just like when her father held her as a baby.

  6 – Dehumanized

  When Angeline woke up, she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. Her head was spinning, and when it didn’t, it hurt as if it was stuck in a bench vise. On top of that, she was thirsty. The crazy thing was she was yearning for salty water, sea water, and that truly didn’t make any sense… at first.

  Angie felt a strong urge to throw up, but she was also desperately hungry. She was starving, close to eating the shirt she was wearing, when a delicious smell reached her nose. Not caring for how she may look, Angie got up and pushed open the door separating her from the kitchen with both hands.

  Hank was roasting steaks. And one of them was bound to end up in her mouth.

  “Just fry the surface, I’ll eat it raw,” Angeline told him, and Hank stared at her as if she was wearing a bird’s nest on her head, which her hair was probably looking just like one, at the moment.

  “I’m serious,” she added. “Give it to me now, or I’ll chew on your arm.”

  “Give her the damn steak,” Roger grumbled from the corner he was sitting in and where Angie hadn’t seen him, when she entered.

  Hank simply shrugged his shoulders and put one of the three steaks he had in his pan on a plate that was sitting on the table. Angie instantly sat down and grabbed a fork and knife to instantly start eating. She didn’t care about it being still too hot, and she would be burning her tongue.

  “How long was I asleep?” Angeline asked Roger while she was digging in.

 

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