A/N: Welcome back ;)
I own few things, and these characters aren't one of 'em. M for the future and naughty language.
1
I used to have nightmares every night as a child, for about three years. Three years of fear and paranoia, of drenched bedclothes and empty hours of restlessness, and those three years meant more to me than anything else in my life.
There were dreams of me drowning; whether in a bath, a pool, or the ocean; the lake, a river, or a puddle. It never mattered. It made no difference where I was, who I was with, how many people watched, I always died. A few weeks after the nightmares began I would cower from the water. I was in hysterics when commanded to bathe. Beach and public pool visits would have been laughable, if I hadn't been blind and dehydrated by the panic attack I got from thinking about them.
The nightmares—and the affect they'd begun to have on me—were not to my shock alone, at the time. My father, an offhand, tolerant man, didn't understand how or why I was the way I was, but he was understanding nonetheless. My mother…
My mother was the lead director of a very successful, very well-known business—still is—and she hadn't gotten that position by nonchalance. She liked order. She liked control. She liked to know that even if something was going unpredictably south, she could still grab it by the reins and steer it back in her path of efficiency, and she had an impressive track record.
She didn't take it well that I had been her one failure.
She told me so.
I felt it.
A white light sliced into the rear of the cargo ship I was folded into, making me bow my head into my lap. Gruff, impatient voices drifted into the dark, cramped space, one harsher and deeper than the rest. That was the one, I could tell, whose boots clanked against the cold metal as it approached me.
I was unsure of why I was reminded of all those ages ago. It was 12 years later now, and I had so far done my deed in suppressing those demons. I reached down deep, picked up the reins that my mother had abandoned, and once again encased my fears behind their yellow tape.
"Good trip?"
My head raised, eyes scrunched, one more so than the other. I couldn't make out anything but black mass against bright light.
"I won't ask again," the mass said disapprovingly, "so feel free to speak."
I had nothing to say. I wouldn't be here if they gave a damn about how I felt about it.
"Stubborn, this one."
"Bit o' trouble, she was. Not very coop'rative." The thin hairs on my arm stood at attention at that voice. "Had to rough her up a li'l," he tittered. "Shame—pretty thing."
"Hmm. Yes." One long finger tipped my chin up. I was a bit thankful that the cargo ship's brightness contrasted so drastically with that of outside. The longer I was blind, the less real all of this seemed. I felt the pad of another finger skate over my cheek, making me shrink a bit. "She's a very pretty thing. But this is a very ugly bruise. Do you mind, Turo?" The mass's head swerved to ask his silent question.
"Of course, ser."
The chill didn't hit my naked arms until the echo of my attacker's footsteps accorded with the dull push of the waves on the ship's hull. My shoulders tensed, and my jaw, still being held up by the black mass, tensed as well. There was no way of knowing—his face was still turned to behind him—but my skin sparked and iced over as if his eyes had suddenly slunk over my face.
The newest, but more familiar figure stepped beside the first.
"Yes, ser?"
"Any trouble grabbing her?" black mass inquired patiently. The question didn't seem like what it was. It felt more like he was looking to be assured that his unstated assumption was correct. I recognized the quality of it.
"None, ser. Tiny enough thing, didn't even need David and me both to cradle 'er."
"Did anyone see?"
"David handled anyone he suspected, ser."
"Did you ID them?"
"N…no, ser."
I think mister mass nodded.
"How did you handle the blanketing?"
"Fu… I…. We… David and Iforgot to blanket the home, ser."
If black mass had any issues with this he didn't show it.
"Right then. We all make mistakes, Turo." My face was released, and black mass's hand outstretched to clap my attacker on the back. It didn't escape my notice that the shorter man cringed forward a bit. "No hurt feelings, my friend."
His relief was audible. "Thank ye, ser. If it's quite alright with you, ser, I'd like to take the rest of my day down to the pubs. Days of pet duty on the sea with a temptress like tha' screwed a few nails too tight," he said in a laugh.
I don't think he received the answer he was looking for. I watched as the short man waited for a response to his request, and after a very awkward moment of nothing, my attacker's laugh shriveled into a dry, tense cough that seemed to have dropped to the cold steel between us all. It almost felt like if I looked hard enough I could see it curl into its own death.
"By all means, Turo," black mass finally said. "You've worked hard. You deserve some respite."
The short man turned to go.
"But, one final request before I let you go." The man clapped once, a swing of his arms together that made him seem carefree and relaxed. "Down on the deck of the vessel, bring me the white tube of ointment in the first aid, would you?"
A minute or so passed, black mass and I waiting in silence for his request to be filled, and the short man returned with his bidding.
"Could I trouble you to apply it to her eye, Turo?"
"No trouble at all, ser."
The tension that never quite left my body from before rose up above the surface of my skin and hardened. It wasn't wise to cause any trouble, but I was ready for even a slight hint of weakness.
My attacker approached, one finger out to squeeze the ointment out onto, and he dropped the tube into his pocket as he roughly grabbed my face and held me up for examination. His finger just barely glanced my skin, and before he could apply any pressure, a torrent of thick, viscous liquid poured onto my cheek, down my jaw, into the front of my shirt…
I didn't scream, and neither did he.
It felt like a lifetime passed as I looked into this Turo's eyes, as I watched the life slowly drain from the shadows of his face, and when it seemed that he was wrung completely of it all he slouched at the waist, his head making a weighty thud beside my own.
Another lifetime passed, and the body finally fell over.
One more lifetime went by, and I registered the sun slinking low over the black and blue water before me. I curled my toes into the sand below. It was strange, this sense of familiarity.
Things that I hadn't felt since my days as a child reached out from beneath my skin and wrapped around me in a cold embrace.
It was like a pressure slowly bearing down on my chest, adding to my weight, slowing down my footsteps. It gripped me tight and caressed my spine with a chill; and drops of ice, fear and helplessness dripped down my back, added to the weight in my feet. I inhaled the salty air but my lungs seemed to hold half their capacity. A bottle of water was placed in my limp hand.
My eyes lifted high enough to see black mass's knees but could go no further. I found he wasn't quite so dark and ominous in the creamy orange of a sunset. I couldn't care what he looked like right then though—I just wanted to breathe normally again.
"Drink."
I did. A sip.
"You're weak," he said. I couldn't even find it in me to give him some snide remark. "You look underfed and under slept. You are dirty, your muscles are close to nonexistent, you look like you've been hit by a bus and ran over a few extra times for good measure, and you stink. My name is Edward Cullen, and I am your kidnapper. For just a little while, I will keep you fed, clean, and healthy. You will have most of the amenities you had back in your normal life, with a few restrictions; maybe even a few more restrictions if you cannot learn to cooperate.
"You may be thinking to yourself, 'Who are you,' or 'Why kidnap me,' and as for the latter, the answer is pretty simple: you have money. A lot of it that you probably don't need. As for the need to identify me, we've gone over this part already; be sure to keep up. Get comfortable with my name—I'll be your only company for quite some time. Now that we've gotten to know each other a little better, I can't help but let you know how well the color of blood suits you."
Now where did I go from here?