Chapter 12! Woot woot! Thanks for the reviews and enjoy!
THIS HAS BEEN EDITED 08/02/2016
I am you
And you are me
Chapter 12: What Makes a Mouse Strong
Myra had gone back to Vaas' shanty, ignoring the bodies that were hung here and there. She didn't linger she eyes on the post that Citra's head was supposed to be on, because it gave Myra a headache. That woman had been right in front of her, a knife in hand, and had decided not to kill her. Why? Myra couldn't get her head off what she had said. "You would make a great warrior." What did that mean? Did it mean she wanted Myra to join her? Myra was curious to find out who this woman was, except for the fact that she was Vaas' sister. She peaked her interests, inciting Myra's brain to let the darkness out.
Vaas didn't come back. Myra was getting worried, not for him, but of why he hadn't come back. Had he been captured? She paced in his shanty, chewing on the nail of her index finger. Her heart was beating so fast every time she imagined all the possibilities for which Vaas wasn't back. She had become used to the freezing temperature of her flesh. Her teeth chattering, the brunette tried not to let the anxiety nibble her away. Stop being such a pussy and go find out! she yelled at herself internally. A groan escaped her lips as the brunette made her way out of Vaas' shanty. However, she wasn't a stupid girl, and not wanting to get attacked by the pirates again, she grabbed a small knife from Vaas' pillow.
She walked down the incline, confidence in her walk, and made her way to Timo's kitchen. Before entering, she put the knife in her belt and knocked on the small wooden door. Looking around, she noticed the dead Rakyat men and pirates. The alive ones were milling around, searching the Rakyat or carrying the their dead comrades to their graves. Myra wasn't scared when she looked at the dead bodies, in fact, she was intrigued. If she hadn't been a woman and a captive, she would have probably checked the Rakyat bodies.
"Yes?" she heard a familiar voice. Her body twisted around and she met Timo's face. His skin was bloodied, his eyes were dark and low. The crust of dirt in his hair and on his face made him look older, despite Myra not knowing his age. In fact, Myra didn't know anybody's age, not even Vaas'. She made a mental note to ask him that after.
"Hey, Timo," Myra greeted, looking inside his kitchen over his broad shoulders. He rose a brow and passed a hand over his bloody face.
"What do you want, Brave?" he asked, sighing deeply. He didn't seem to notice how 'free' she was. He didn't notice the knife in her belt, the missing ropes on her wrists, nor the lack of body guards.
"Have you seen Vaas?" she asked cautiously. Timo looked up over her head and frowned.
"Come to think of it, no," he replied. Myra's heart sunk. Where was this son of a bitch? She nodded sternly and put her hands on her hips.
"Where could he be?" she asked. Timo looked down at her with a frown. He pursed his lips, biting down on his lower one before answering.
"I wouldn't know, Brave, he seems to have a mind of his own that senor," he answered. Myra sighed, looking back at the abundance of dead bodies. This didn't seem like Vaas just to disappear like this when a good battle was going on.
"Could his disappearance have anything to do with his sister?" she continued her investigation. Timo shook his head.
"If that furcia even as much as came within inches of him, he would kill her," Timo said angrily. "He wouldn't waste his time in trying to capture her and vice versa. It would be an instant battle. How do you know about Citra anyway?"
"Vaas told me that post he keeps clean and unoccupied is for her head," Myra answered, looking back over the hill. She could see the circle of heads and the lone post. She felt cold. She hated that.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to Timo. "Can I ask you a favor?" she asked and he nodded slowly, frowning.
"Yes you may," he replied.
"If I stay alone at Vaas' shanty, the pirates will know and... well let's just say last time that I was alone they didn't hesitate," she started. "Therefor, may I stay with you until Vaas' return?" Timo looked at her fiercely, not agreeing nor disagreeing.
"What makes you think I won't attack you like my fellow perros?" he questioned, leaning a shoulder on the door frame, if you could call it a door frame.
"Because last time I was alone with you, you didn't try anything," Myra admitted, trying to keep her anger at bay. Timo nodded, pushing himself off the frame.
"Alright," he agreed. "I will let you stay here until Vaas' return." And he let Myra enter.
Timo's kitchen was clean, despite the veggies and meat stacks here and there. Myra knew most of the kitchen even if she just spent one day in there. Timo pulled out a crate for her to sit and went back to his occupation, which was to wash the blood off his face. As he did so over a bowl of water and with a sponge, he sighed and mumbled things to himself. He looked sad, like he was missing something. Or someone. Myra studied the cook, watching his eyes and how sad they looked. "Do you have a woman back home?" she asked. Timo peered at her sideways with a look of surprise. He squished the sponge in his hands, passing it over his arms. He nodded once.
"Yes, I was married to the most hermosa of women," he declared.
"What does hermosa mean?" she asked.
"Beautiful," Timo replied. Myra smiled weakly. This man wasn't at all like the pirates out there. He missed his woman, called her beautiful.
"Did you love her?" she whispered. She lowered her eyes at that and looked at the dirty floor. The tips of her fingers were numb, just like her.
"Si, mucho," he answered. Myra understood what he said. She knew a tiny bit of Spanish, and those words were easy to translate.
"Then why did you leave her?" she retorted, eyes still stuck to the ground. Her lip started to quiver, her teeth starting what was the beginning of a cold dance of chattering.
"Because sometimes there are things a senor has to do to please his senora," he returned. Myra frowned.
"What does that mean?" she asked, hearing the water drip back into the bowl. She heard the sponge as Timo washed his face.
"She wasn't en amor with me anymore," he whispered back. "She didn't want me near her. So I had to leave." His voice was still strong, but Myra thought she could hear his sadness beneath all that masculinity. Icy tips of frigidity caked her raw throat. "You make me think of her, Brave."
"What? Why?" Myra shot back, snapping her head back up at Timo.
"She was brave like you, determined, and just as intelligent," he replied. "She was the reina of her world."
"I'm no reina," Myra replied, trying her best to imitate Timo's Spanish accent. He chuckled. "Talking about queens, Citra said she was here to take Vaas and his queen down. What does that mean?" she asked.
"I have no idea, pequeño," he replied, a frown knitting his eyebrows. He turned to face her, flesh washed but blood still dripping down his neck. He passed the sponge there and sighed. "Only he knows."
Myra stood when she heard his booming voice. She couldn't make out what he was saying exactly but he was coming closer. Not until he had reached the center of his camp did she hear what he was saying. "Pera!" he raged. She knew who he was calling now, her. "Myra, fuck! Where are you?" She didn't wait long to burst out of Timo's kitchen and out. There he was, blood covering every centimeter of his skin. He stood by a hut, knife in hand and gun at his waist. When he saw her, his expression of pure anger changed, became the slightest softer. Fire raged off his skin like a furnace, igniting the iceberg in the brunette. "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were dead!" his voice boomed to her.
"I sought refuge with Timo," she replied, keeping her voice even. Just on cue, Timo emerged from his kitchen and waved at Vaas.
"It's ok, she was with me!" He dunk his head back inside and gave Myra a wink. After, he closed the door.
"Me asustaste!" His Spanish just rolled off his tongue and Myra could just frown as he made his way to her.
"I don't speak Spanish, Vaas," she said as he came beside her, grabbing her arm and marching her on.
"It meant you scared the living shit out of me!" he snapped back. Myra nodded. "I told you to stay in the fucking shanty! Why didn't you fucking listen!?"
"I wanted to see, gee, calm down." Her voice had a tint of humor. Seeing Vaas scared because she had disappeared was a wee bit funny. "Your sister was here, you know." Bad thing to say. Vaas steered her around, shook her by the shoulders, and looked at her hard. The blood was starting to dry but he still looked leaked out of his every pore. His large palms, pressed against her shoulders, were burning straight through her flesh and right down to the icy mound at the center.
"What?" he bellowed. "What the fuck did she say? Hm, hermana, tell me what the fuck she say!?"
"She said she was here to take you and your queen down," Myra answered frantically. Her eyes were wide, just as his did the same. "What does that mean Vaas?"
"Nothing," he spat back. He continued to drag her along, Myra being annoyed from being in the shadows all the time. "I need to train you," he declared.
"For what?" Myra mumbled back. Where his fingers dug into her flesh, her skin was alight with flames.
"To kill, what the fuck do you think?"
"Have you ever shot a gun before?" Vaas asked as he held Myra's wrist and guided her in the jungle. Vaas hadn't wasted any time to start the training. Early in the morning, he had dragged a groaning Myra out in the jungle for target practice. He was planning on training her with a gun, a knife, and hand to hand combat. She wasn't a weak girl, physically meaning. Her shoulders were strong, her biceps weren't so small, and she had strong legs.
"Yeah, my friends and I went to a shooting range once," she answered. Vaas always made sure to have a hand on Myra at all times. Sometimes it was a hand on her arm, around her waist, on her shoulder, but most of the time it was around her wrist.
"Well, I'll be teaching you today," Vaas replied. He continued to push her deeper in the jungle. He had a long paper rolled up in his hands and a bag of hand guns he carried on his shoulder. His anger had lowered, but he still couldn't accept the fact that Citra had dared to enter his camp.
They got an open place where Vaas hung a huge target on a tree. The place was a clearing of knee-high grass that smelled like rainwater. All around, the trees provided cover. The hot sun was making the clearing sparkle with little diamond shapes of light.
He walked back to Myra and handed her a 9mm hand gun. He placed himself behind her and watched. Myra laughed, weighing the weapon in her hands. It would be too easy to shoot Vaas. But she didn't. Why? Because there was something about him that she was still trying to figure out. She aimed at the bulls eye, closing one eye, and biting the inside on her cheeks. She felt his presence behind her like a burning tree trunk. The flames licked her back as he breathed in slowly, and kept the breath in. Pulling the trigger, the bullet hit just outside the bulls eye. Myra smiled triumphantly. "Good," she heard Vaas praise. "Now, get the bulls eye."
It took her fourteen bullets to hit the middle. Even with Vaas encouraging her, she still only got it at the fourteenth bullet. When she got it though, he rewarded her. He kissed her lips once and then pulled back. "Get it another time and you might get more," he said, winking at her. She pressed her fingers against her burning lips. Chuckling, she aimed, fired, and got the bulls eye. Looking back at him expectantly, he didn't waste time at all.
He grabbed her face and shoved his lips to hers. They moved and danced together, tongues mingling and fighting for power. She could taste the sweetness of his lips, his eager for more, and his need. He pressed his body against hers, taking her hand and throwing the gun away. With her free hands, she grabbed his face while he slid his hands down. He passed them over her bum, under her thighs, and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed her against the tree.
Everything became a rush as their bodies pressed together fiercely. Groans and moans escaped both of them as their hands explored each other. He didn't hesitate, being such a bold and confident man, to grasp her breasts. She rolled her eyes when he did and pushed him back as gently as she could. She really wanted to continue the training... and continue to taunt Vaas. "Stop fucking dragging it, c'mon let's do it now, right here," he groaned. He kissed her neck, her collar bone, and her chest. Breathless, Myra grabbed his head and pulled it up.
His eyes were fire and hers, ice. He was setting her skin alive with flames, every ounce of him burning right through her.
"We were going to do some knife throwing now, weren't we?" she teased. He groaned, putting her back on her feet to Myra's delight. He put his forehead to hers and inhaled. He smelled good today. Like pine trees and a roaring camp fire.
"You dangle yourself in front of me like fucking meat, but when I get you, you don't fucking want it," he declared, his breath fanning her face. "I don't get you anymore."
"The knives," Myra chuckled. He pulled back, grabbed the bag, and pulled out knives. Totally ignoring the kiss now, he turned to her like a child receiving presents on Christmas.
"Watch and learn!" he chanted. He squared his shoulders, planted his feet a bit behind one another, and threw the knife. The blade hit the bulls eye with efforts from its thrower. Myra stared. He was good.
Myra was good at throwing knives. It was like if she was a natural. The first couple of times, the knife did wobble and miss the target completely. However, once Myra got the hang of it, the knives were getting closer and closer to the bulls eyes. Her arms were getting sore by repeating the same movements, and her back ached. Despite all the small pains in her body, Myra continued to practice. It was fun.
They didn't have time for the hand to hand combat for Vaas had to return to his captives. She saw him getting impatient, wanting to destroy something. He kept firing at trees and throwing punches at bushes. He itched. Itched to return to his bloody captives to see their lives fade away in their eyes. After all, he was still the merciless killer, wasn't he?
