A/N: Sorry about the small delay. It'll probably be tougher for me to update for the rest of this month and the next, but I'll try my hardest. Thanks for viewing! And thanks to The Hobbit Diet for looking over this and helping me with it.
Warning: This chapter contains strong sexual content that is not fully consensual. Read at your own risk.
Scarlett was lightly dozing when she heard the shuffling of feet and nervously opened one eye. Upon seeing who it was that entered, she immediately felt panic race through her. She sat up in order to defend herself against whatever unjustly act he was about to perform on her, but Vladimir didn't go for her straightaway. She watched him grab the overturned table and place it right side up, followed by sliding a wooden block under the broken table leg. The whole thing still wasn't level, but it didn't fall over. He set a bottle of liquid down on it along with something wrapped in a bloody cloth. Oh God, what disgusting thing did he have?
Unwrapping the bundle, it was the smell that reached her first. It smelled like cooked meat, which wasn't what she expected at all. That meant he had food. Real food. And it smelled wonderful. She would have jumped up and cried for joy, but she knew better than to do so. She didn't think Vladimir was the type to put up with frivolous behavior. She eyed the meat while he lit the candle on the table with a lighter. Scarlett felt her mouth water, but when she noticed that he was staring at her, she diverted her attention elsewhere. She didn't want to appear needy.
Something else that made her anxiety skyrocket was the sight of a rifle leaning against the wall next to him. A pistol, by itself, was frightening enough, but for him to possess two guns seemed like overkill. Squinting in the candlelight, however, she thought the gun looked very familiar. She recognized the model, the finish, and even that long scratch across the stock. It was her dad's! She wanted to smack her palm against her forehead. Vladimir had stolen the gun from under her bunk on the ship because she had been stupid and forgotten to give the gun to Channing. She was supposed to have given it to him right when they had met on the Commendation, but everyone had been so busy and she figured she would give it to him at a later time. But she hadn't; there had been too many distractions. And now, the firearm was in the hands of a dangerous murderer. Scarlett's stomach clenched at a fearful thought: what if she died by her father's own gun, the gun that they would both use on all of their hunting trips together? It was too morbid to think about, but by God, she would try to keep that from happening.
Vladimir started to approach her and she backed further into the wall. He pulled out a knife and she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself for pain. He grabbed her wrist and Scarlett wanted to tear it right from his grasp. What was he trying to do? Cut her? She kept her eyes clenched shut and then heard a shredding sound. She no longer felt the weight on her wrist and opened her eyes to see that the rope that had ensnared her was lying on the floor along with the remaining chunk of the broken table leg. He had cut it off.
Vladimir went back to the table and silently pointed to the chair, motioning for her to sit. Scarlett hesitantly stood and sat down on the piece of furniture. He ripped off a small chunk of browned meat and tossed it in her direction. He began to eat while Scarlett stared at the food with her knees drawn up to her chest. There was red still on the inside of it, like a rare cooked steak. She didn't know what kind it was, but she knew this was not the time to be picky. She would have to eat whatever he brought her, even if she didn't like it. She slowly stretched out her hand to take the meat, almost afraid that her hand was too close in proximity to his. Scarlett snatched it and tore off a strip. It had a soft texture and was dark like beef, but she didn't think that any cattle were kept around here since it was mostly forest, so it might be deer. Just to be sure, though, Scarlett watched Vladimir eat a few pieces before she decided to put it in her mouth. She deliberately chewed. It had a smooth texture, but it didn't taste like any meat she's ever eaten, although it wasn't bad. It just needed a bit of seasoning. But being so hungry at this point, Scarlett would think a piece of cardboard tasted good.
She finished her portion and touched her fingertips together. They were greasy. A part of her wanted to lick them clean to get all of the flavor off, but she didn't want to look like a desperate dog licking its bowl after finishing a meal. She wiped her fingers on her jeans, leaving a stain, and simply looked at him. Hopefully, her pouting lip would get him to give her some more.
Vladimir noticed her doe-eyed staring, grabbed the bottle of golden brown liquid, and tilted it towards her, offering her some. She read the label: bourbon whiskey. It was alcohol. She declined with a shake of her head. This was not the time to get drunk.
He offered a second time. She refused again.
"Drink," Vladimir slid the bottle to her.
She stared at it. Then, she brought it to her nose, sniffed the rim, and scrunched up her face. It had a pungent smell. Scarlett brought the drink to her lips and let a tiny bit of liquid flow into her mouth. It tasted foul. She shuddered, curling her lips inward so that she wouldn't spit it out, and forced the drink down her throat. It burned. She coughed into the back of her hand, blinking away the tears that were forming, and slid the bottle to Vladimir. He gave a nod and took a swig himself, taking in her backwash. The taste lingered in her mouth, giving off a flavor of something warm and inviting. Even though the aftertaste wasn't horrible, she wouldn't drink the liquor again just to get that flavor. But Vladimir decided to challenge her by passing the bottle back in her direction.
"Drink more."
"You can have it," Scarlett croaked.
"Drink." His command was final.
Scarlett didn't know how mean of a drunk Vladimir could be and she certainly didn't want to find out. She slowly lifted the bottle up and swallowed another sip as quickly as she could, trying not to taste the liquid. It burned like fire going down her esophagus. How could people drink this stuff for fun? She placed the bottle back on the table, wiping her mouth with her hand. The warm, oaky flavor overtook her mouth again. She went back to staring at the meat while cleansing the lip of the bottle free of saliva. She was so hungry right now that her stomach could eat itself.
Vladimir continued to eat until there was only a small amount of food left when he finally looked at Scarlett's beseeching face. There was a hint of a sadistic glimmer in his eye. He dangled the last of the meat in front of her face.
"Drink, then you can have this."
Scarlett tried to not let him see her sigh. She dreaded grabbing that bottle again, knowing that the more she drank, the more the situation would head south and only result in God-knows-what, but she was starving. She swallowed a full gulp of the firewater this time, feeling a scorching sensation in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to make the feeling disappear.
"Another," Vladimir commanded.
She put a fourth shot down.
"More."
Scarlett obeyed yet again and then slammed the bottle down on the table. She was starting to feel funny, like really warm and fuzzy and almost too relaxed. No more drinks. She wanted food. She gawked at the meat, leaning so far over that her chin almost rested on the table. Vladimir kneaded the last of the flesh with his fingers, teasing her.
"You want this?" he swung it in front of her again.
Scarlett nodded slowly.
"Here," he went to hand it to her, but instantly pulled back when she stretched out her hand.
Scarlett almost shouted out of protest. Even more, she wanted to slap him across the face in rage.
"Kiss me," Vladimir ordered her, "then you eat it."
This was demeaning, making her beg for food like this. She wasn't a dog; but she did want it. The only thing standing in her way was him; that was it. And she was not going to let him stop her from getting precious food. She was not going to give up.
She got up to kiss him, swaying a little upon standing. She had never felt this woozy before, like she could hardly walk in a straight line. She rose up on her toes to reach his lips, but he put his hand up to stop her and her mouth collided with his palm.
"I want a real kiss," he smirked. "No quick one."
Scarlett landed back on her heels and let out a little huff before reaching up again to put her lips on his. She tenderly kissed his hard lips, but tender wasn't what Vladimir was looking for apparently and he pulled away.
"You're going to have to do better than that, little girl. Show me how much you want it."
Scarlett could drop to the floor and throw a temper tantrum like a little kid. She wanted to cry. Why was he doing this to her?! It was torture. She hated it! She hated him! She glared at the floor and decided that that was enough. She wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of playing with her and watching her squirm like frightened prey. Not tonight.
Fine. He wants a kiss, he'll get the best fucking kiss in the whole damn world!
She reached out and grabbed the back of his head with both of her hands and forced him to her lips, kissing him hard. She licked his bottom lip aggressively, getting the taste of the meat off of him. He kissed her back with the same amount of force, if not more, and shoved his tongue into her mouth. If this didn't satisfy him, Scarlett didn't know what more she could do. It was the hardest she's ever kissed anyone. It nearly hurt.
Vladimir finally pulled away to take a breath and she immediately latched onto his neck and sucked at it, making sure to get his approval. He groaned, letting her know that she was doing a respectable job. He forced her backwards after a minute or so and rubbed at the hickey forming on his neck.
"Alright, girl, you win. But keep that up for later, though," he let her have the meat with a huge smirk on his face and sat down on the chair.
Finally! Scarfing down some much needed protein, Scarlett felt triumphant. She actually got him to give her food all by herself. She went on the offensive and was rewarded for it.
She finished the last sliver of meat and, this time, began licking her fingers afterwards. Vladimir watched her intently, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. It tasted so good and who knew the next time she would eat something?
Once she had licked her fingers until they were wrinkly, her head began swimming even worse. She leaned against the table, but that didn't help, so she lowered herself to the floor and sat. She didn't know if she should thank Vladimir for feeding her or curse him for making her drink. She didn't have much to eat, only two small portions. And he made her drink more than she should have and it was causing her to feel strangely tranquil. She decided against telling him anything. She was a prisoner after all.
Vladimir took her arm with a ravenous look, yanking her out of her blurred thoughts.
"Please me tonight and I might be gentle with you later."
Scarlett wanted to crash onto his knee and burst into hysterical sobs at the thought of having to relive the nightmare of last night all over again. One part of her begged for him to just leave her alone. He had done enough damage to her today already, making her yield to him like a canine. The other part of her wanted to grab that whiskey bottle and drink her fears away, to drown her mind and all of her emotions, so that she wouldn't have to feel anything. It sounded like a wonderful idea. There was no other way to escape this hellhole, but she might as well let her mind drift for a few hours, at least.
Scarlett lifted her arm and felt around the table, but couldn't find the bottle.
Where is it? Where the hell is it?! Her anger grew and she used the table top to heave herself up onto her knees. Her head spun, but she sighed in relief when she saw it. She dragged the bottle to her, put it to her mouth, and downed a shot. She laid her forehead on the wood as the burning liquid descended down her throat once again. She still didn't feel ready to submit to Vladimir yet, so she took another shot. She shivered and felt even hotter, like she was about to break out into a sweat. All she had to do was make him like it. That's all he was asking for. Then he would leave her alone for the rest of the night.
She gave a mild nod to herself and began undressing, feeling the cool night air hit her exposed skin. She stood up to take off her jeans and almost fell over getting out of one pant leg, but seized the corner of the table for support before she could tumble to the floor.
Vladimir softly chuckled at the little mishap. It was cute and comical at the same time. He even went so far as to call her adorable as he watched her strip down to just her underwear and tank top. She could have been one of those lingerie models, like the ones he would see in magazines that were stuffed underneath mattresses or pillows in cabins onboard new shipwrecks.
He patted his lap for her to sit on him. She complied and straddled his lower half in the chair with one leg situated on either side of him. She untucked the front of his shirt from his pants and slid a hand up his chest while she buried her face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. Her flushed face was warm against his skin. She made her way up to his ear and showered it with kisses, making Vladimir slide his hands up and down her bare thighs. He flinched abruptly when he felt something slip into his trousers between his legs and his first instinct was to swat whatever it was away, but once he realized it was her hand, he backed off. He was impressed with her eagerness. She undid his belt and pants and pulled him free, proceeding to stroke him with a somewhat firm grip.
She went right to his ear and whispered, "My name's Scarlett. And I already know yours, Vladimir." She tightened her grip even more on him when she spoke his name and he squeezed her thighs harder. He had never asked for her name, not thinking it was necessary, but it was interesting nonetheless. It had a seductive quality to it.
While she busied herself between his legs, Vladimir moved his hands to her hips, clamped onto the bottom of her tank top, and slid it over her head. It was exhilarating to undress her. It wasn't often he got to undress girls, so he wanted to take every opportunity to do so. She kept her face buried in his neck as he reached around her to unclasp her bra. He fidgeted with it, not being used to the damned things, but was finally successful after a few attempts and flung the garment to the floor. He drew her back from him, so that he could fully observe her. His eyes drank in her form as he ran his hands over her breasts, savoring the touch. Her skin was so soft underneath his worn, callused hands. How did she get it to be this smooth? His hands slithered down her curves, her taut and youthful appearance so pure, so captivating. And the fact that she was letting him touch her without so much as a whimper was even better, though there was an apprehensive look on her face as she stared at the candle on the table, like she was trying to shrink under his gaze in embarrassment. Vladimir took her jaw in his hand and forced her to look at him. There was no need for her to feel ashamed. She was wonderful to look at. He pulled her to him and her lips met his. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was intoxicated; exactly what he wanted.
He broke away to hastily rid his upper body of clothes, but the girl still didn't seem to want to focus on him. He grabbed her hands and guided them up and down his tattooed chest.
"C'mon. Play…" he encouraged, nuzzling her neck. Her attention continued to be elsewhere, so he groped her breasts and squeezed them, making the girl gasp. "Keep doing what you were doing, baby," he pleaded with a sigh of longing. "Please me."
She reached for the bottle of whiskey and took another shot. He watched her, taking note of how her throat expanded when she swallowed. She slammed the bottle down on the desk and practically fell back into the crook of his neck to leave a trail of kisses along his collarbone. Her mouth felt succulent; hot and moist. She began to get rougher and started nipping at his skin with her lips, leaving small red marks. He leaned back in the chair in pleasure. He was enjoying her feistiness until he felt something that he perceived was an actual bite with teeth and then sensed the chair falling backwards. He hit the floor with the girl on top of him.
Their eyes locked momentarily. Vladimir's dilated brown eyes gazed right into her wide green ones. He observed utter horror in them. She was expecting him to be angry and to punish her for knocking him over—that much was evident on her face. But had she meant to bite so hard as to hurt him? Was she trying to make a break for it and escape?
"You like to play rough? Or were you trying to bite your way out of this?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.
"I…" she shook her head, like she was unsure how to answer. Truthfully, the bite wasn't that hard. It was more of a surprise to him than anything. He hadn't expected her to get so aggressive. If she had really meant to attack him, she would have done worse, he thought to himself. A mischievous grin formed on his face.
"Was it a play bite?" he made a biting gesture at her with his teeth.
"Uh…" she dropped her face into his chest as if trying to hide from him. He laughed at her bashfulness. It was too cute.
"You're alright, babe," he chuckled, petting her head to reassure her. "I like a little bite." His face then grew serious as his pupils dilated even more. "But you have to kiss it to make it better."
He wasn't sure how it was possible, but the girl's cheeks turned crimson when she lifted her head to look at him. Her body was on fire and he sensed the perspiration beading up on her chest as she slid upwards to treat the bite she had given him. He let her apologetically suck on his neck. It made him melt like butter to have those young, tender lips nurture his tanned, leathery skin. But he wanted more, so much more. Her mouth was warm and wet and if it gave him chills from just touching his neck, he wanted to imagine what it would have felt like in another place. Vladimir let out a growl at the thought and abruptly pulled the girl back by her hair.
"Put that sweet mouth on me," he breathed, becoming harder as another wave of arousal came over him in anticipation. The girl immediately dropped her face into his chest and began kissing and licking at his pecs, her mouth gliding over his tattoos and leaving a trail of saliva behind. It felt nice, but that wasn't where he wanted her pretty little mouth to go. He put his palm on her forehead and pushed her backwards until she hovered above the waist line of his pants. She hesitated, her hands balled up into fists to support herself above him. Vladimir didn't like the look in her eyes. It seemed like she was starting to sober up. He reached to grab the liquor from the table and dangled the neck of the bottle lazily between his index and middle fingers.
"You need another drink, baby?" he asked, a grin playing on his lips since he already knew the answer. She hung her head as though in defeat. He twitched with excitement, knowing how close she was to having her mouth between his legs. She gave him a nod of acceptance.
"Well, c'mere," he purred and stretched out his arm to tilt the bottle to her lips to let her drink as though he was bottle-feeding her. She took three gulps before pulling back and sputtering, some of the drink spilling onto his pants. Vladimir pressed his lips into a thin line in mild irritation. She didn't need to be drinking any more if she couldn't hold it down. Alcohol was not something to be wasted in this place.
"No more for you tonight," he muttered, placing the precious liquor out of her reach onto the table. He turned back to her and she was still trying to catch her breath. "Hey," he snapped to get her attention and she jerked her head up, "say you're sorry." He rolled his hips under her to further imply the message. He didn't know whether it was out of stupidity, inexperience, or drunkenness, but he became more bothered when she actually parted her lips to speak.
"I'm—"
"No," he stopped her, "show me." The young girl remained above him, her mouth slightly opened and her eyes darting back and forth in apprehension.
Sitting up more, he began to trail one hand up her torso like a creeping serpent and the other to her face. He stroked her cheek before resting his thumb on her bottom lip, noticing how shiny it was.
"Kiss," he ordered in a whisper. He figured he needed to take a softer approach rather than just shoving her head down on his dick. If he wanted her to be submissive and willing, it was going to take a bit of patience, otherwise she would scream and struggle to get away and then he would have to be rough with her. And not in the fun way. Neither of them wanted that.
He was, indeed, correct about taking it slow. She pressed her lips onto his thumb and gave it slow kisses before he pushed his way into her mouth. She continued to kiss it, making his finger disappear between her lips. Vladimir almost shook when she began swirling her tongue around it.
"Like that, baby. Just like that," Vladimir told her dreamily, nodding his head in approval. But this was taking too long. He needed the warmth and wetness now. He slipped his thumb out of her mouth and moved it down to her chest. "Now, tell me 'sorry' for wasting my drink," he squeezed her nipple with his wet thumb, making her gasp. Before she could relax her face, he had his other hand tightly clutching the base of her skull where he then eased her head down in between his legs.
Thankfully, she accepted him, but the next question was: has she ever done this before? She must not have because she was timidly giving him kisses along his shaft, not even daring to go near the head. She made him emit quiet sighs, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to ram his cock so far up her throat that she would choke.
"C'mon, give it to me," he snarled, becoming sexually frustrated. His answer to whether she was experienced in this field of work or not suddenly changed as she opened her jaw and took him into her mouth with what he assumed was the furthest she was comfortable in taking him. He let out an audible groan at the wetness, heat, and pressure. He could have cum right then and there, it had been so long since he's experienced pleasure like this. She worked him up and down, gaining speed with every head bob. The slick sounds coming from his cock and her mouth sliding against each other were delicious. It transported him back to a time in his previous life when young prostitutes serviced him. In fact, there were times when he would blow all of the little money he had for just one good fuck; something, anything to get a release from his shitty life.
Vladimir clenched his teeth together hard as he bucked his hips in rhythm with the girl's mouth-fucking. If she didn't slow down, he was going to quickly be driven over the edge, which wasn't what he wanted yet. He intended to drag this out as long as possible and he'd rather cum in a pussy as tight as hers than in her mouth any day. He sensed the feeling of ecstasy coming on and he had to get her off of him.
"Stop," he growled like a wolf and pushed his palm against her forehead, shoving her backwards onto her rear. She wore the look of a kicked puppy, wondering what on earth she had done wrong. Why did she always have that look on her face? She was doing well and he was enjoying himself; something that rarely happened these days. Maybe it was time he did something for her. Everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours was probably still a shock to her and she needed some loosening up.
Vladimir leaned forward to grab her upper arm and she instinctively tried to retreat, but he was much stronger and led her to the mattress, making her lay on her back. He laid on his side next to her and she began to curl in on herself, rolling onto her side and facing away from him. But he gripped her torso and turned her back so that she was lying face up. He laid a hand on her thigh and started going higher and higher until he slipped a single finger under her panties. She bit her lip when he started sliding them down her legs and made a small whimper when they were cleared from her feet. Vladimir laid there, marveling at her naked form. She stared at the ceiling, her breathing prominently faster. He ran his hand back up the young girl's limb until it rested between both of her legs, making her develop an uneasy look.
"Relax," he breathed and began to fondle her, staying on the outside of her vulvar lips. She closed her eyes with an almost pained expression on her face. There was no reason for her to make that look. He was not harming her.
"I said 'relax'," he repeated and ran his finger over her clit, resulting in a cry from her. He pushed a finger inside and she jolted out of reflex. She began taking labored breaths and gripped at the fur of the animal pelts beneath her, as if what he was doing to her was unbearable. Then, he forced another finger in. God, she was tight. She still whined, weakly struggling against him, but it didn't seem to be outright rebellion. It seemed more out of excitement.
"Are we relaxed yet?" he asked in a calm voice.
The girl barely nodded.
"Good," he pulled his fingers out before raising them to his mouth and licking them. He stared straight at her, making her watch him lap up her secretions. She let out another small whimper and closed her eyes to break all visual contact with him. That was when he swore he saw something wet leak out of her eyes. He ceased his actions. Was she crying?
"Hey," Vladimir coaxed soothingly and she slowly opened her eyes again. They were glassy and red.
"It's alright. Don't cry," he spoke softly in Russian, petting her hair. She only gazed up at him with wide eyes, almost like a doll's. She looked…helpless. Weak. Vulnerable. Ripe. And ready. A carnal sensation suddenly overcame him like someone had flipped a switch in his brain. He must take her. Right now. Nature was demanding him to destroy this innocent flower because it was the natural order of things. Purity and innocence didn't last long in this world. It had to be ravaged.
He mounted her delicate frame and, full of raw desire, slurred the words, "I will fuck you like no one ever has."
Vladimir swiftly shoved himself into her, making her yelp and recoil. He found his way to her rosy lips and kissed them a few times before moving to her ear.
"Say my name," he hissed as he thrusted in and out of her.
He heard a faint, "…Vladimir…"
He continued to get progressively rougher, making the girl beneath him cry out. Whether it was out of pain or pleasure, he didn't care. He was a bull in a china shop, programmed to break anything and everything. The muscles in his arms were tightening to continue supporting himself above her. The tension kept building, like a string being pulled tighter and tighter. He was on the verge of climaxing. He was right there. Now, he just needed something to send him soaring.
He yanked on her hair. "Who's in charge?!"
"You!" she shrieked.
"Good! Now, who do you want?!"
When he didn't receive an immediate answer, he wrenched her hair even harder, plucking a few strands from her scalp in the process.
"Who d'you want?!" he repeated.
"You!"
"Say my name!" he ordered again.
She heeded his command instantly, tears leaking from her eyes. "Vladimir…"
"Louder, shlyukha!"
"Vladimir!" she cried out.
Vladimir's arms shook as his body became racked with ecstasy. He needed her, all of her; to go as far up into her as nature would allow. He rammed forward and felt a powerful force surge through him, causing him to spill into her, signaling the end of his orgasm. He crashed onto her petite body and laid his head down on her breasts, feeling them rise and fall with each breath. He could hear her small heart beating rapidly. It was probably half the size of his now that he thought about it. He sensed his own heartbeat beginning to slow down now that he was coming off of his high. He raised himself up and smirked down at the young brunette trapped between his arms. She appeared just as weak and helpless as before. It gratified him. He leaned down and nuzzled her neck affectionately.
"You did well…" he breathed in her ear and she shivered. "Have pleasant dreams," he rolled off of her and laid on his back to go to sleep without another word.
Scarlett raised a hand to her face, feeling disoriented about what just happened. But at least Vladimir was done with her for the night and she could get some sleep. She didn't realize how exhausted she was until now.
A chilly breeze came through the hut, cooling her body from its elevated temperature. She went to wrap her arms around herself, but immediately detected something tickling her stomach. She peered down to see loose tan hair fibers that were sticking to her sweaty body. She unclenched her fist and realized that she must have gripped the fur of the animal pelts so hard that she ripped the hairs straight from the dead follicles. She hoped that Vladimir didn't mind. A rumble of thunder sounded through the air outside and Scarlett began to hear the pitter-patter of rain on the old, wooden roof. Her head felt like it was swaying through a raging ocean. A drop of water leaked through the ceiling and fell right beside her. She scooted away from it, only to have another drop land in her hair. She frowned and rolled back over on the mid-sized mattress, bumping into Vladimir. She heard a soft grunt come from his motionless form before he turned away from her on his side.
"Sorry…" she whispered. The air became cooler and she brought her legs and arms closer to her body for warmth. The constant drops of rain leaking from the ceiling and onto her body certainly didn't help either. Scarlett wanted to pull the bed sheet up to her chin, just to have something to cuddle with, but Vladimir had it trapped underneath his body. She couldn't even pull out a small section to cover her legs without disturbing the giant beside her. Not wanting to sleep the entire night uncovered, she scanned the dim shack and saw that Vladimir's shirt and coat were the closest things to her. She stretched to retrieve them, feeling her world violently spin, and then draped the clothes over herself to keep somewhat warm, curling further into a ball to conceal her entire body from the cold of the outside world.
While attempting to drift off to sleep, Scarlett observed Vladimir's bare backside in the candlelight and she did not expect to see such a large tattoo. It was of a soaring eagle carrying a lamb in its talons. She wished that she was that lamb and the eagle would just carry her away from all of this. She was tired. So very tired. She wanted to sleep more than anything and forget about what had happened on this night. Clutching the jacket sleeve in between her breasts, she listened to the light rainfall until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer and passed out for the night.
