*This is a Fan Fiction intended for entertainment purposes. I do not own any of the Far Cry characters*
*WARNING. Contains strong adult language, themes and suggestions. Advisable age would be 16+*
*Thank you so much for giving this Fan Fiction a read! I hope you like it. I am open to criticism, and would like to know if this fanfic works well, so i would love it if you would please leave reviews, if you can, which will give me feedback on this story and help improve my writing. x Enjoy ~
Gagged, bound and blindfolded. The squealing hostages squirmed fretfully in the tight, unforgiving coils of rope that was yanked around their tender wrists. Their skin was red raw, due to the sandpaper knots of rope that only got tighter when you moved. The familiar sting of tears pricked at their eyes and streamed down their burning cheeks, like rain water on glass windows, making their skin glow red. The knot of the damp cloth that dug into the back of their heads made the hostages wince and struggle uncomfortably - in which they burrowed their soaking bodies into the sand that scratched at their skin. The youngsters quivered with terror as the savage island inhibitors surrounded them like fearsome beasts in a story book, and the captives would squawk and cough every time the animals kicked a cloud of gritty golden sand at their faces with their hard army boots. Their fear amused them. Whenever they quivered or squealed, the beasts would sneer and bellow out their abrupt laughter, firing their guns into the air, at which the prisoners would leap in fright and scream against their soaked rags and sway their trembling bodies in the sand.
"L…let us go, you b..bastards!" one of them spat out, not yet gagged, trembling nervously, tunnelling his body into the soft sand, and hunching his body into a ball - dreading what sort of reaction would come next.
"What did he fucking say?" one of the islanders snapped, lifting his gun into the air. The others fell silent and bowed their heads at his presence. He scanned his narrow stony eyes at islanders and sauntered over to the young man who just bravely objected, shaking his head in aggravation and twiddling his fingers around his gun. He crouched beside the man and glared at him, holding the gun up beside his ear. The man trembled rapidly, quivering like a new born pup left alone outside in the cold breeze. His breathing was heavy and loud, and he struggled to take in a proper breath, wheezing briskly like a sick animal.
"What the fuck did you say?" he challenged, his voice was hoarse and hostile, and was enhanced with thick Spanish accent. The man pursed his lips to speak, but they trembled and no words would escape them. "Hey!" he was screaming now, his face nearly touching his. His penetrating voice emitted panic and horror to all of the captives, and the man quivered even more and sobbed – the tears flooding from his eyes and down his cheeks like a falling waterfall. "Answer me you chicken fuck! Don't try and threaten me! I'll paint the beach with your fucking brains you little shit! What the fuck did you say?!"
The sobs continued – his whole body juddering severely. He shook his head quickly, spluttering out some words, "p..p..please…"
"Spit it out you blubbering fuck! You have something to say? Fucking say it to me! Say it! Say it to fucking me!"
"Bastard! Let us…g…go!"
"Disrespect eh? I'll show you some fucking respect."
The native jumped to his feet, and leaned forward, resting the mouth of the gun on the man's dripping forehead.
"F..fuck!" he screeched, trembling and spluttering out more shaken sobs.
"Take off their fucking blindfolds! They will witness this!"
The other islanders nodded and harshly whipped the cloth from the captive's eyes and heaved the rags from their mouth, letting it hang loosely around their necks. There was eight in total –not including the man with a gun to his head- five men and three women. They were all dressed in summer clothes and but one girl wore only a skimpy golden bikini. All were drenched with salt water from the sea. They all nervously scanned around them and whimpered with dread, and glared over to the man – their eyes swelling and their bodies shuddering.
The rag was harshly removed from the whimpering man with a gun to his head. His eyes were swollen and red. He blinked quickly, trying to hold back more tears that were desperate to flood his skin.
"Now," the inhabitant with the gun on his skin said calmly "we're going to play a little game, very simple. Yeah?"
The man nodded, biting down onto his trembling lip.
"If you, can count to three, without stuttering or weeping, you may live. Fair?"
He winced, and more tears streamed from his glassy eyes.
"Ah ah, no whining remember. It's just three numbers, you know? One, two, three. It's fucking easy, yeah? Go, count for me."
The man steadied himself, gulping and breathing in and out, in and out, trying to control himself and reconcile his tears and weeps.
"Come on! Fucking count! Or I will blow your brains all over your fucking friends!"
He gulped again, trembling more. He breathed in deeply and glanced up to the islander, "One."
"Good. Two More."
His lips moved; no sound escaped. He tried again, "Two."
"One more amigo."
He smiled, panting and trembling. The man watched and rolled his eyes.
"T...th…"
The man erupted into yelps and wails; his friends sobbed also and squirmed in their ropes.
The native sighed, standing to his feet and shaking his head. "That's a disappointment. That's a fucking disappointment hermano."
He pointed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. Bang. The man fell to the floor like a sack of flour, and his friends screamed and wriggled, burning their skin against the rope on their wrists. His blood sank into the sand and spread, creating a small red river that flowed towards his whimpering friends.
"Fucking bastard!" one squawked.
"Murder!" another squealed.
"Crazy fucker!"
"Hey! Shut the fuck up!" he roared back, waving his gun at them, ferocity building up in his face, the veins in his neck pulsating, "or you will end up like your blubbering friend. Shut the fuck up!"
"Vaas," another islander called.
"What!" he shrieked, nearly striking the guy in the throat.
"Don't you think we should take them up now?"
"Erm, excuse me Benny, but I call the fuckin' shots here okay! Did you fail to fuckin' notice that?" The pirate shook his head and backed away, returning to the swarm of pirates that stood beside the trembling hostages. Clicking his tongue, Vaas turned his head away from the hushed pirate and lifted is head, loudly howling at everyone, "Grab a hostage! We're taking them up."
Suddenly his attention was detained, "Wait, not that one." he barked, pointing over to one of the captives that an islander had tight hold of. The pirate had a red, frayed bandana wrapped around his mouth and his eyes were hidden with black rounded sun glasses. He suddenly froze, and his wide bulky body tensed. Vaas moseyed over to him, and snatched the captive off him, grabbing her by the arm and heaving her towards him.
"Hey don't you touch her!" one hostage screamed, struggling against the grasp of his capturer.
"Hey!" Vaas bawled back, firing his gun onto the sand near his feet, "don't fucking speak! Shut the fuck up!" He turned back to the islander, and in a sudden more relaxed tone, he said softly, "this one is a pretty sight." His huge hands cupped her face. She grimaced and flashed her rounded golden eyes away from his glance. "I will take this one." "Let's go!"
Vaas wasn't a typical looking islander. He looked different - a savage, a malevolent barbaric psychopath with his hard callous face and his coarse tanned skin. His thick dark eyebrows arched wickedly above the heavy dark circles beneath his cold brown eyes. The sides of his head were shabbily shaved but down the middle - at the top of his skull - grew a thick ebony Mohawk that made his look a lot more fiendish and despicable. Another feature that made him look like a wild, feral brute was is thick facial hair below his mouth and on his chin, and the circular ebony piercing in his ear lobes. The most startling feature he bore was the fearsome jagged scar that traced from his eyebrow all the way to the back of his head - which meant looking at this savage in the eye was difficult to achieve. Something about his peculiar savage features made this man a lot more frightening. Suppose if he didn't have those features, he wouldn't be so bad.
He walked with his arm wrapped around the girl. Her damp brunette hair spiralled in tight, tatted ringlets down her back. Her blue t-shirt and black demin shorts were damp from the sea, and clung onto her skin. She shivered at his touch, and tried to free her hands from the rope, but to no avail.
"So," he chuckled "what are you youngsters doing on my island, eh? Chica? Come here to piss on my sunshine?"
"Fuck you."
"Oh!" He laughed, rocking her body with his robust arms and shaking her, "I see this one isn't just looks. She has a spark in her. Ha, fun, fucking great." "So chica, does my island please you? Did you have fun basking in my sun, and swimming in my blue sea?"
"Sorry, didn't realise that the sea and sun belonged to you."
"Ha! This one really shows no fear. You show no fuckin' fear. I'm impressed. A women who has more "balls" emblematically speaking, than her male comrades'. Fucking crazy. Me and you are going to have a swell of a time, aren't we chica?"
"You dare fucking touch her!" the same hostage spat. His capturer walloped him across the head with his gun, making him weak in the knees.
Vaas' eyes widened, and his veins throbbed, "I'm sorry but was I fuckin' speaking to you?!" he screeched, "hey! Speak again and I'll cut off your fucking tongue and feed it to the dogs!"
He squeezed the girl he was cradling and hugged her closer, still striding with his arm snaked around her waist. "So," he whispered, his warm breath grazing against her ear, "what is your name chica?"
At first she didn't respond, she glared at the floor, clenching her jaw and barring her lips tightly shut. Vaas' grip around her tightened, and she yelped quietly, her body jolting in his embrace.
"Can you just answer my fuckin' question," he warned, his voice imitating but quite sincere - compared to how he spoke to the others before - "and tell me your name sweetheart, like a good girl? Otherwise, boom. I might have to blow a bullet through your skull for being so fuckin' rude to me. Yeah? So what is your name?"
"Katerina. My...friends call me Kat."
He sniggered again, sticking out his pink tongue and grinning, glancing at his other comrades for a response.
"Katerina," he sang in a cynical manner, rolling his tongue as he spoke, "Katerina, yes, yes I think that suits you."
He chuckled roguishly and brought up his arm and stroked her on the head – as if she was his pet - curling his fingers in her wet, salty hair.
"Oh no chica, you're all wet! Why are you all wet?"
"Well you did blow up our ship."
Again he hooted, nuzzling his head playfully, and brusquely, into her neck. She flinched her head away – he gript onto her arms firmly and tugged her closer, but now lifting his head.
"Ahh, so I did. But why be on my ocean in the first place chica? I don't like it when holiday yachts think it's perfectly fine to come at drift on my ocean, when I am fuckin' here watching it."
"Take a guess, we were on a fucking holiday!"
He glanced to his comrades, lifting his arm and pointing his finger at the girl, "I like this one," he exclaimed with wicked laughter. He pushed her in front of him and trailed behind her, keeping a tight grasp onto her arm as she stumbled up the hill. Her bare feet burrowed into the muddy ground and caught on a few bristly sticks and hard rocks. She winced and lifted her feet in the air, bobbing up and down as she shook her foot.
Vaas rested his head on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "you know, i'm guessing you think, you and your whimpering friends regret getting on that shining yacht. You regret picking my island for your wondrous little holiday. You thinking how if you went to another place, everything would be perfection. Or you wishing that you just stayed at home, with your mama and papa, curled up in the safety of your bed. But you know whats funny chica? I'm glad that you washed up on my shore and I'm glad that I shot down your shinning perfect little yacht with my shinning perfect little bazuka. I really am. Because now, chica, now the fun begins. You see sweetheart, you're on my island now, and on my island, I create all the fun." His hands trailed down her waist, as he nipped at the lobe on her ear. She snapped her head away and shook him off, he chuckled under his breath, slapping his hand frivolously across her ass. She jerked into the air, and scowled, again he chortled, sticking out his tongue, pushing her forward. "You and me... you and me are going to have an explosion on fun."
If you have made it to the bottom of this chapter, well thank you :) I would really love to know if you thought that this chapter was good enough - was it intriguing, true to Vaas' character, etc. So, please leave a comment/review telling me your thoughts, (though please be kind). Thank you! x