Her Saving Curse

Chapter 4 – Discomfort

It was day seven of Kelsey's imprisonment – officially one week since she'd been hit with tranquilizer darts and taken from her friends.

She'd seen Lokesh twice more since the first meeting five days ago; once the day after the first encounter, and once the day prior to the current one she was living through. Their meetings always entailed Kelsey being shoved through the door to examine the tiger rug with something akin to morbid curiosity, after which she would always stand as close to the door as possible before Lokesh eventually acknowledged her. They spoke of trivial things during these times – or rather, Lokesh spoke of trivial things and Kelsey ignored him unless it was to give a sharp-tongued rebuking to one of his musings.

Lokesh seemed unfazed by her rebellious demeanor, but he always ended their mocking excuses for 'talks' with some sort of dark observation or bit of advice to her, followed by a sinister, demented form of affection such as a peck on the cheek. Kelsey knew these displays didn't spark from any sort of warmth the heartless man felt for her, but rather, they were to prove a point – a point of possession.

Sitting in the square stone cell she loathed so much, Kelsey's grubby fingers rubbed absent-minded circles on the stone she had used to scratch out the seven tallies on the wall, one day at a time. Her mind kept replaying how she was captured over and over in her mind; and the little voice of her conscience kept whispering cruel observations to her. Just think, it mocked, if helpless little Kelsey had listened to Ren for once, she wouldn't be in this mess, now would she?

"Even my own mind is out to get me in this place," Kelsey muttered, scowling, only to cry out as the pad of her finger tore open on a sharp outcropping on the pebble.

Hissing in a manner amusingly similar to a house cat, she drew her thumb up to suck on the new wound reproachfully, examining the glistening dot of crimson on the innocent-looking pebble. Head tilted to one side, Kelsey traced a finger along the side she'd been using to count the days – it was apparent she'd only been using one side, over and over again, to make the marks, if the way one side had been flattened into an unnaturally straight, carved off line was any indication. The stone bore the marks of the vicious strikes she'd hit the wall with, and Kelsey remembered crying and screaming of frustration as she battered at the wall for no apparent reason early that morning, her daily mark having long been scratched out, but she had continued to beat at the wall with absolute hatred on her tearstained face. It would seem this small, insignificant inanimate object and the walls that entrapped her had become the outlet for her haywire emotions in the week of her capture.

The young woman was sitting against the wall, head slightly tilted, staring vacantly out the barred window. It was a view she'd observed many times since the initial storm that had greeted her arrival, obscuring the scenery from sight. Below her window, the side of the building fell down what must be at least ten stories – Kelsey had mused silently that if things got desperate enough, she could always squeeze through the bars and end it all by jumping – and despite her morbid thoughts, her stomach dropped a bit when she noticed the decaying state of the weathered stone where the bottom of the window met the wall – if the building she was being held in was in such a state, who was to say that it wouldn't just randomly collapse, taking her to the ground with it?

A sprawling, tropical landscape spread out for what must have been several miles into the distance, brightly colored birds flying above, though none had visited her since the one that had sung for her days before. A humid cloud seemed to hover over the forest, so that Kelsey could only see the tallest of the trees, and she sweated profusely in the grimy, torn tee and jeans she still donned from the time of her capture. In the far distance, just a thin band on the horizon, Kelsey thought she could see the glimmering of water, the sea perhaps, stretching as far as the eye could see from left to right.

Broken from her reverie by the clanging of her cell doors, Kelsey's head shot up with a frown. In the week she'd been here, she'd become familiar with the schedule forced on her – they brought her scant meals at dusk and dawn, even if she wasn't awake at the time, and she was let out twice a day to use a very primitive bathroom that she was thankfully allowed privacy to use, after which she was escorted straight back to her cell. The only other times she was free of her prison were when Lokesh requested her presence – which was perhaps worse than sitting in a cell all day long – and it was not time for any of the other daily functions, leaving her confused by the ever-present guards' actions.

The guard was the one who spoke English, and if there were any of the men she'd met here that Kelsey hated less than the others, it was him – at least she could understand what they wanted her to do when he was around.

"Come," He barked, gesturing impatiently.

As soon as Kelsey came near enough, her elbow was seized and she was marched down the narrow aisle in a direction different than the way she'd been every other outing.

"Where are we going?" She couldn't help but ask, curiosity getting the better of her.

Silence was her only response, and irritation gripped Kelsey like a fist; she dug her toes into the ground and yanked on the hand holding her with all of her strength.

"I said, where are we going?" She demanded, retreating several steps back from the now tensed up man she had broken free from.

Without warning, he turned and the back of a weathered hand popped across the side of her face, making her cry out - he had slapped her; Kelsey now glared at him far more ferociously than before. The man seized her arms again and walked her down the hallway with both arms held behind her as if they were handcuffed. He never spoke, to answer her question or otherwise, and Kelsey decided that knowing their destination was not worth another stinging blow.

The guard didn't let her stop walking until they reached what seemed to be the far end of the building, the walls surrounding them seeming to be of slightly better quality than the rest that Kelsey had seen. The bulky man finally let go of her with one hand, jerking a scratched brown door open, and Kelsey was astonished to see a slightly ragged-edged elevator shaft yawning at them from the doorway.

The man pressed a button hidden from her view, and with an awful scraping, clanking sound accompanied by metallic groaning, a set of rusted elevator doors finally slid up into view, their stop bumpy and rough. Perhaps the building wasn't as old as Kelsey had assumed, but the elevator before them certainly wouldn't have passed United States safety inspections.

Despite the slight whimper she had made and the dragging of her feet, Kelsey was herded into the elevator, and she began to breathe more heavily as the metal box housing her gave a sudden lurch downwards. Their descent was choppy, with the elevator falling fast and then jolting to slow down, only to make another fast drop, taking Kelsey's stomach with it every time it did so. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she was digging her nails into her palms by the time she was ushered out onto what, according to the almost entirely dirt-concealed display in the elevator, was floor one.

If Kelsey had thought the building's interior near the elevator had been of a higher class than the rest fo the building, floor one was five-star hotel worthy. The lights in this new hallway she was forced down didn't flicker as the ones far upstairs did, the paint wasn't peeling, the doors weren't scratched, the ceiling plaster wasn't crumbling, the walls weren't smeared with mud and red stains Kelsey preferred not to think about, and the hallways and rooms they passed appeared far more furnished. Above all, the walls, ceiling, and floor were not made of lifeless gray stone, which immediately improved Kelsey's opinion of the lowest level.

Shoved through a doorway halfway down the hallway, Kelsey glared up at the taller man, rubbing the angry red handprints wrapping around her wrists from his grip. His brown eyes held nothing. No pity. No sympathy. No dislike, even. Kelsey would have liked it better if he clearly displayed hatred for her, but instead he was creepily lifeless, as if he were a flesh-wrapped android.

"Ten minutes," He said, slamming the door in her face; Kelsey heard a lock click from the outside.

Scowling once more, Kelsey turned to take in the room; it was very small, about the size of a walk-in closet. A low-to-the-ground woven wooden bench occupied the far wall, a single bare light bulb swayed on a cord from the ceiling, and it was with a small sound of delight that Kelsey noticed the shower in one corner.

Scanning the walls and ceilings suspiciously for any form of security camera, Kelsey gave a small grin for the first time since her capture; her clothes were peeled off in record time, discarded in a heap on the floor by the shower. Pale fingers turned the rusty knob inside the shower, and Kelsey peered in the tiny, cracked and dirty mirror on the wall while she waited.

Bruises, a dot of dried blood from her more recent injuries, and the new, faint impression of a hand across her right cheek marred her fair skin. Brown hair hung loose and limp, mud, blood, and grease from not being washed made it appear almost black. Biting her lip, Kelsey traced one of her ribs, which were far more prominent after turning her nose up at stagnant food for a week, despite chastising herself for doing so.

The water in the shower continued to stream out at icy temperatures, but a cold shower was better than no shower – and besides, it was hot enough that she might actually prefer a cold shower. The water came in bursts, the pressure weak and the color faintly rust-tinged, but to Kelsey it felt like heaven; layers of grime being scraped off by relentless fingernails. She was certain she'd torn a pound of hair from her scalp and taken off a full layer of skin; the water going down the drain was a disgusting shade, but she forced herself to step out after three much-too-short minutes she had counted off in her head. The last thing she wanted was for the guard to return for her while she was undressed.

Wrapped in a scratchy, stained towel, Kelsey glanced around with a frown. She was considering donning her soiled clothes again, but the basket on the bench caught her attention first. A hot, prickly feeling settled over her skin – she was certain that basket had not been there when she had entered the shower, but it was too late to worry about it now.

Her hands slipped slowly into the seemingly hand-woven basket, grasping soft and silky material which was promptly pulled out to examine closer. It was traditional-style garb for Indian women, if she was right; the rest of the material unfolded into a shape she recognized from the clothing Nilima had shown her on the rare occasion of free time.

Biting her lip, Kelsey debated silently before deciding clothes she wasn't totally sure how to wear were better than clothes in such a state of disrepair as her jeans. Jerking her hands through the waves of her hair, she ran a hand over the new clothes once again before pulling them on and shifting to examine herself in the mirror.

The choli top had sheer reddish straps going up around the back of her neck, the garment only being solid from just above to just below her bust; the top was sky blue with thin vertical stripes over other colors such, from fuschia to royal blue. A sunshine yellow skirt fell from her hips to the floor, faint diamond patterns outlined on it, with large, embroidered blue and purple flowers towards the bottom of the skirt. Sheer purple material was wrapped around her body in a manner Kelsey was sure was incorrect, draping off of her left shoulder. A thick border ran around the edge of the sari, with embroidered flowers matching the skirt scattered across the fabric.

Kelsey found herself attempting to stretch the top out to cover more, crossing her arms at the uncomfortable amount of bare skin displayed beneath the sheer material of the sari.

Frowning, she stuck her hand into the basket in a futile hope that there might be a more modest, American-style article of clothing, but her fingers found only two items remaining in the basket that certainly were not a shirt or pair of pants.

Pulling her hand back out to the light, Kelsey was unsurprised to see the simplistic pair of sandals, which were made up of only a foot-shaped piece of leather and a long piece of cord to tie around her ankle, but the long yellow piece of ribbon she had found made her freeze.

A sinking feeling filled Kelsey as her hand clenched into a fist, the trailing ends of the ribbon hanging out on either side. That was just too much of a coincidence to be one – yet another creepy display, one that made her cringe to think that Lokesh had watched her enough to realize her affection for hair ribbons.

Kelsey pulled the straps of the sandals tight against her skin, ignoring how it dug into her leg – she didn't know where they would be going, but she didn't care to cut her feet up on the uneven floor of the cell she knew she'd eventually be returned to. Reluctantly, her hands moved up to comb through her damp hair, braiding it into a plait down her back and tying it off with the yellow ribbon; she couldn't help but grit her teeth as she did so, telling herself that she wasn't doing exactly what Lokesh wanted.

She had done it because it reminded her of Ren.

I know, I know, two updates in two days?! I don't believe it, either, but I've been feeling very inspired for this story as of late! This chapter wasn't supposed to end here, but it turned into pretty much a filler chapter – I thought it would end up TOO long if I included everything I had originally planned. Next chap will be more interesting, and it's already under way.

Okay, 'Let Her Go' by Passenger came on the radio THREE TIMES while writing this chapter(and jamming with my headphones on, of course) and it reminds me of the Kelsey-Ren dynamic in Voyage. Yes? No? Sort of?

TigerWarrior09: Thanks! Your reviews always make me give a little buzz of happiness - it makes me glad to know someone is enjoying the story and my writing so much!

Reviews loved, concrit welcome, and you know the drill with flames!