Chapter 1.


Brassy chains stained her ankles redish brown. She was down on the floor again, punished for disobeyance. She never wanted to spread her leggs, open her mouth or use her tongue. Spitefull to the end she'd bite or claw on the „ clients".

They kept her dirty, hungry and pissed of most of the time. It took 'em a few tries. Drugs, presuasion, a chance to bathe and actually eat a whole meal. Nothing helped them tame the beast. Clawing, bitting and the cuss words that left her mouth on a steady stream.

She'd be a slave, clean and earn a piece of bread. Either that or the gallows. Thiefs were the lowest class, treated like dirt. She should be thankful! The brothel Madame saw her pretty face and took her under her wing, and she repayed like this?

The little devil, sat on the cold floor now. Her hair was a knotted mess of dark hair, you couldn't really say which color it was, the dirt and dust discolored it. Her skin had a tan olivy tinge, streaks of dirt, dried blood and scars all over it. The only clear thing were her eyes, brightly purple and filled with defiance.

Underneath the brothel was her cell, in a row of unused metal rooms, once haven for the kinky ones. Most of the clients Madam's girls served were pirates, a nasty bunch ever since Roger said his last words, only pirates passed through the streets. Armed, foolish and naive, all of them woudl die, all were too damn stupid for the waters ahead.

The Island shaped like a half moon was the last stop before you'd enter the Grand Line, one of the fewer hidden gems along the entrance. The town was scarce, old people fishing and the occasional bar. The highlight of the Island was the brothel, the only newer building, home to a dozen of girls working the older job known to manking.

Madame was one of them once, years of working and saving berrie's just to buy a house and start her own, she didn't know anything else nor possessed any other talents. Her eyes scanned the empty streets. It was close to sun down, not a client in sight. With a sigh she rose from her chair and stopped abruptly. A group of men were walking. Clothed like the circus, walking like they owned the world. Pirates.

Ignoring the cuss word at the tip of her tongue the Madame spread her arms and smiled ˝Welcome strangers,would you like to refresh yourselfs at my guesthouse?˝

A masked fellow in a black shirt with white polka dots chuckled ˝Is that the name of your whore house?˝

˝It can have many names Sir˝- Her attention was caught on the tall ale man, his hair was bright red and he had a scowl on his face so deep it looked a wound. Behind him a blue man with dreads an stitches on his face? Another group of naive, young blood.

˝We'll take it˝- The red head said. Take it? ˝How long until the log pose sets?˝

˝Two days Sir, would you like rooms?˝- The Madame smiled. She'd squeeze every last berri out of them before throwing them out. They weren't the first pirates she had to deal with.

They passed her and entered the brothel without a word. Rude bunch. Taking a deep breath the Madame turned to direct them when she cursed out loud. They threw the girls off the tables and helped themselves with the food and drinks. No matter,she'd make them pay that. Nodding to the girls she instructed them to bring the most exnepsive things they had, champagne and steak.

The red head eyed the bottle before throwing it behind his shoudler. ˝Rum, now˝- A girl came fast with pitchers used in the local bars. Filthy and simple.

˝Would you like to ease yourseves? We could prepare baths˝- The Madam goaded.

˝Sure˝- The masked man said. He was drinking rum with a straw and showeling cold spaghetti through the holes of his mask. Disturbing. Slowly his men walked up the stairs and descended in the rooms with her girls. The only two left were the red head and the blue man. The red head rose and stretched his arms.

His torso was muscular and bare, only a pair of yellow black pants on him, a blue shash and a dagger strapped to his thigh. He wore goggles to keep his hair up. Yawning he started to walk. The Madame sprung when the blue man spoke ˝My Captain is taking a walk, can't you see?˝

˝It's my brothel Sir˝- As soon as she spoke the forks, knives, spoons anythign made of metal started to vibrate and levitate in the air. The red head smiled slowly. ˝And I'm taking a walk, sit your ass down˝- His voice was loud and menacing. A fork was levitating in front of her left eye. ˝I'd pop it like a cherry˝


Footsteps were coming closer. She groaned. Not damn again. She'd get beaten or take a cock, well beat me up Sir. Her head hurt from dehydration, when was the last time she had a drink? Yesterday? The day before with that mouldy bread?

Somone knocked on the bars. It made her head hurt like a bitch.

˝STOOOOOP˝- She yelled. A snicker cut the dark. Was someone staring at her? It wasn't the old hag wit her bitching, nor anyone from the town.

˝Why the cage?˝

˝I bite˝

˝I see, when did you last shower?˝

˝Month˝

˝Gross˝- She shrugged at the comment. She was already used to it. There was no way of breaking the cell anyways. She awaited death patiently. He kneeled and she saw bright red hair.

˝Your hair is shiny˝

˝Your's dirty˝

˝Tell me something new˝

˝It's a Friday˝- She chuckled.

˝How come you ain't fucking upstairs?˝- What did a healthy dude do in the basement of a brothel?

˝It's a slave house and brothel, right?˝

˝Yeah and?˝

˝What did you do?˝

˝Stole bread˝- He laughed.

˝Just that?˝

˝ I was hungry. Still am. Fuck˝- Dizzines overtook her. She needed food or at least water. It was getting worse. She leaned back on the cold wall. It usually helped to steady her.

˝ !˝

˝What!˝- She snapped back. Her vision was blackening again. Fuck.

˝Grab the hag and bring her here!˝- He shouted behind himself. More footsteps. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. Stop spinning around.

˝Oi, breathe˝

˝Ahh˝- Familiar grunts came closer. The Madame was pissed off.

˝What is it that you need Sir?˝- She was mad. Good.

˝Open the cell˝

˝Excuse me bu-˝

˝OPEN!˝- He yelled so loud she whimpered at the echo in her skull. She heard the door open and a pair of hands grabbed her. Her ankles were free. They bleed where the metal bit into her skin. ˝Wash her push the hag in˝

˝WAIT! You can't do this!˝- The red head closed the door and snickered. ˝I hate slave traders˝