A/N: The first part of my story, now revised by my wonderful beta Alice Under Suspicion. Thank you so much for your help! Disclaimer: I own nothing. It is my first little one shot about Assassin's Creed. It takes place before the Majd Addin assassination in Jerusalem but is also slightly AU. Any comments requested.
Lost.
Oh, how I hate those nights. Grimy fingers pry on my dress; tear at my flesh, leaving bruises for me to remember. Every day after those nights I swear to myself to fight the next time, but I end up over and over again only standing here in his chambers, let him do what he desires.
My fear of what is to come if I resist is bigger than any power I may possess to rise up against him.
Still standing in the middle of his bed-chamber with this huge bed to my left side I try to look outside the window in front of me while he strokes my neck and hair all the way smearing it with his filth with the help of his filthy digits.
I think myself into another time and place, I can tell that this is working since I only recognize what he did the day after when I can actually see it on my skin and feel it through my body.
The more these nights appear the more I lose myself in this never-ending world in my mind where I can find refuge. Sometimes I have a hard time to find my way back out of this soothing state of mind. Reality is much more aggravating…I try to avoid it for as long as I can.
There is no other way to flee. No physical one. He leads me to the bed all the way mauling my body with his mouth. Roughing up my sensitive skin at my bare shoulder he pushes me down. I play along to the extent I am able, breathing a sigh when the moon comes back in sight due to my sadly familiar position on the bed.
Distracted by my only witness I forget to slide smoothly and quietly into my own world blanking out everything around me. I swallow and try to concentrate on the lightened gate I can see when I close my eyes but it seems as if it is taunting me, moving away from me, so I will never be able to reach it in time. For dear life I begin to 'run' to the imaginary gate but I am left desperately trying to suppress the pain he inflicts on the lower part of my body. His heavy chest isn't leaving me much room to breath, his own breath is labored, and his sweat is sticking to the parts of me he is holding to.
In an instant I realize sadly that my sanctuary does not protect me from his lust tonight.
I hear myself whimper when he seizes me by my hair narrating his next gruesome actions.
To much for me to bear I turn my head to the side, totally overcome by the violating sense of defeat and helplessness. Suddenly it seems even the moon has left me. Feeling completely imprisoned in a futile fight I let one silent tear run down my cheek.
But I realize shortly after that the moon is not leaving me on my own! He was there, all of the time. He only was hidden. Concealed and kept from being seen.
By a figure standing next to the bed.
Completely taken aback I suck in a sharp breath of air, clawing at my horrid burden, but my exertion isn't noticed, at least not by the man ravaging me. Engrossed in his torture my struggling is escaping his notice entirely.
When a gleaming piece of metal comes in my field of vision I go mad with fear scratching like a wild animal at the back and arms I am able to reach.
"Yousra! What are you—" I close my eyes awhile, awaiting the blow I became wordless for a long time now but all of a sudden it is quiet again.
There is nothing more to feel than the tingling sensation of a warm liquid dripping on my bare neck and breasts. In the dark of the night I can only assume it is his blood which leads me to shudder violently.
My spirit comes back to life in fear of drowning in the thick bleeding. In shock I push forcibly against the dying man but to no avail.
When hearing a gurgling sound coming from the throat directly above me, I fight a wave of nausea, thrashing my head from side to side uncontrollably.
Finally! I am able to raise my chest, my lungs eagerly accept the fresh air. New energy is filling my organism now that the weight of the body is gone unforeseen. Propping myself on my elbows I wheeze with difficulty, watching the hooded figure how he hauls the dead body down next to the bed with a groan of abhorrence.
With one last look at the bloodied face, I suppose to make sure his iniquitous act was successful, he loosen his grasp on my master's hair and lets go of his head which lands with a sickening thud on the floor.
As I lift my eyes to meet with the intruder's, his stance stiff , I assume it was a sort of fighting stance, I frown with eyes half-closed. There is nothing more visible. Certainly unaffected by the recent events the moon is shining brightly through the window and is casting a shadow over the spot where I imagine the face of the figure.
I am paralyzed. I don't know what to do. Should I call the guards for help? It feels as if the time has stopped and he is standing there now for ages. I am feeling helpless again, but not in the way before, not anymore.
My rapidly beating heart is screaming at me. Faith or luck, all or nothing. Nobody is deciding for you. I fall out of my state of shock into an obvious one.
While I grant myself the luxury of a self-absorbed immobility, he kneels and I am able to catch him wipe his knife on the robe of the corpse.
Observing his deadly instrument is enough for me to snap to attention. Do something!
One could say I am a runner, not a fighter, so I change my half-laying, half-sitting position on the bed to one facing the door, scrambling on my hands and knees all the way entangling myself in those damned bed sheets.
Losing time due to these foolish antics I become aware of a hand taking quick and forcible possession of my ankle all the way yanking my outstretched form back towards him.
Mourning in pain I turn around flinging and dashing my arms in despair against him, but failing miserably. My hair is wildly spilling in my face giving me a hard time identifying my surrounding in the near pitch-black room furthermore. Almost straddling me he gains his position of advantage and control not least because he grips my wrists with one arm and suppressing my scream of terror with the other.
Suddenly I feel light-headed and it becomes difficult for me to focus. Everything is spinning; the blood rushes through my ears while a humming sound is soothing me into nothingness.