Ugh…

What time is it?

Why does my head hurt so much?

Where the hell am I?

Something held Moxxie's arms down as he tried to move, greeted by darkness even after opening his eyes. His joints ached and his face stung, like pouring lemon juice on an open wound. Something felt wrong with his right shoulder, clicking uncomfortably like it was bruised, or dislocated or broken.

How the hell did this happen?

Panic gripped his weary mind as he felt his breathing constricted, a cloth caught in his mouth and muffling his cries for help, along with his breathing. It tasted of chemicals, ones that he couldn't identify.

Each time he tried to move, more pain greeted him, bound to what felt like a chair by rough ropes, scraping against his exposed skin through patches of his torn clothing. The knots felt especially tight around his wrists and ankles, nearly cutting off his circulation.

"H-Hmmmph!" he shouted, voice muffled by the gag in his mouth.

What's going on?

This definitely wasn't home.

Moxxie tried to cough, realizing that his throat was as dry as a bone. With no sense of time, he had no idea how long it had been since his last drink, which was sometime around dinner on the first night.

Where's Millie?

And Blitzo?

Even Loona?

Where was everyone?

Had they done this?

In his struggle, Moxxie was far too wound-up to remember just how exactly he had ended up where he was, instead devoting his energy to vain attempts at freeing himself from whatever prison he was currently residing in. He had escaped from worse situations before, this one would be no different.

Or so he thought.

A particularly hard thrust left Moxxie in a world of pain, his body screaming for help as it felt like he was being gutted from the inside out and then beaten with a sledgehammer. He let out a muffled yell before falling back into the chair, still unable to see anything besides the darkness that surrounded him.

And that was when he heard the voice.

"Well, look who's finally awake?" Monte laughed, the voice sending chills down Moxxie's spine. The sound alone was enough to finally trigger his memory, although he wished it hadn't.

Being cornered in the hall, the terror of the fight, the pain after being thrown into the wall, calling out for help only for there to be no response. It all came back, and far too quick.

He had no idea of what this man was capable of, and now knowing that his life was in their hands brough much more anxiety than comfort.

Monte reached for Moxxie's head, causing him to flinch, and removed the blindfold, laughing as he did so.

"Might as well enjoy the show," Monte said, "It'll be better. For me."

Moxxie attempted to shield his eyes from the bright light of the room, but without use of his hands it was impossible, instead squeezing his eyelids shut as he struggled to handle the sudden transition.

"Is that little bastard finally awake?" a female voice hissed from what sounded like the other side of the room, "It's been nearly a goddamn day!"

Well, at least now he knew how long he had been out for.

"He is now!" Monte shouted back, poking Moxxie with his cane and removing the gag from his mouth, "What do you want me to do with him?"

An owl looking figure stepped out into the room, wearing a bright crown on her head. Along with that, she donned a pink dress with jewels coating the side, and she had an emerald ring on her finger, splotches of black staining the stone. The woman stood tall, easily three times Moxxie's size, if not more. Her presence emanated authority, much like Stolas, although she didn't appear to be nearly as passive as he was.

And that was when he realized who he was staring at.

"Stella Goetia," she said, seemingly reading his thoughts, "You may know my husband, Stolas…"

Oh crumbs…

"I-I've heard of him…" Moxxie shivered, "But we haven't-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Stella slapped him across the face, right where his head had been bashed into the wall hours ago. The pain blurred his vision, and he could swear it felt like he had lost a tooth.

Wait.

He ran his tongue along a now empty part of his mouth.

He had lost a tooth!

Stella once again noticed what he was doing, tilting her head towards the suited figure to her side, "You can thank him for doing that. He wasn't supposed to beat you that hard."

Oh, how generous of you for not wanting me beaten to death yet. So empathetic!

"I admire your bitch-slapping skills," Monte said, "But let me handle the physical aspects, alright?"

"Fine by me. I need to wash my hands after touching that filthy thing anyway." Stella huffed before glaring angrily at Moxxie and walking away, rushing directly into the bathroom and presumably to the sink.

This was the same woman that had scratched the hell out of Stolas's face, made multiple attempts at Blitzo's life when he and Stolas had been caught, and was one of the highest-ranking nobles around?

Damn.

If you had told me I'd be getting slapped in the face by Stella Goetia of all people after being tied up by a shady money-man who was probably into BDSM, I would've said you were crazy.

Actually, scratch that, I've had weirder.

While Moxxie was still processing what the hell was going on, Monte stepped ahead and gently brushed his shoulder in what he thought was the creepiest way possible. It was almost like he was getting some sick high from being as unnerving as he could be.

"Oh Moxxie. Sweet, innocent Moxxie. You and I are going to have quite the time together."

The fact that this guy somehow knew his and Millie's names was more than unsettling. Creep must've been following them for longer than Moxxie had thought, at least long enough to learn their names and cabin numbers.

"What do you want from me?" Moxxie said, "I can't imagine someone of such a high status would want anything to do with an imp like me."

Moxxie had pulled the flattery and self-defamation card, and he hoped that it would work against Monte's enormous ego, perhaps buying him enough time for rescue to arrive or for him to escape.

Plus, what did Monte want him for anyways? It wasn't like he had money to give him or any useful skills, besides maybe assassination. Unless there was something bigger going on, this man had no reason to kidnap him like this. A little imp from a crappy assassination company run by a crackhead with horns wasn't exactly the type that he thought Monte would be after.

"Ah, flattery!" Monte grinned, "I always love an ego boost. But if you think that's going to help you in any way, you would be sorely mistaken."

His heart sank at those words, Monte clearly knowing what Moxxie was up to and seeing through his mask like it was nothing. Apparently fighting wasn't this guy's only talent, which only furthered Moxxie's fear about what this man could do.

He nearly shouted this time, now just desperate for some answer, "What do you want from me? I can't give you money or dirt, and my only useful skill is shooting, which you already have! What the hell is this all about?!"

Monte responded by punching him square across the face, and placing another punch in his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs while the rest of his face was engulfed in pain.

The whiplash sent the other side of his face right into the side of the chair, brushing against one of his gashes and cutting it open again, blood running down his face and into his mouth.

"Don't you fucking talk back to me, you little shit!" Monte hissed, suddenly pulling out a gun and aiming it as Moxxie's right temple.

Being held at gunpoint was something that had happened to Moxxie more than once, but it hadn't scared him, since most of the time he knew the other person wasn't going to shoot. Every time it had happened, it had been back on earth by humans who barely knew how to use them, sometimes holding up guns with empty chambers for "intimidation"

But this time, something told him that this man wasn't going to hesitate in pulling that trigger if it came down to it, only further motivating him to not piss this guy off. Moxxie liked his brain in his head, not splattered all over the walls.

Sweat pouring down his face, Moxxie obliged, "Y-Yes sir, never going to happen again. I-I promise."

Seemingly satisfied, Monte moved his finger away from the trigger, the same sadistic grin still frozen on his face, getting some sick joy out of the whole situation.

"Now, I'm going to need you to answer a few questions for me," Monte said, "And I don't think you're going to want to lie to me."

Moxxie never considered himself a fighter, but he didn't consider himself a coward either.

Now he was questioning that.

He had no idea what Monte wanted, and if he gave any important information, he risked putting others in danger. But, if he kept his mouth shut, or Monte had reason to believe he was lying, there would be lead in his skull faster than he could yell "don't shoot!"

Fighting off the urge to break down, however, he took a deep breath and agreed to the questioning, hoping that the right answers would get him out of her scot-free and with his brain in one piece. Negotiation wasn't his strong suit, but shutting up and doing what others told him to do was.

"Yes, of course…" Moxxie croaked, "I-I'll do the best I can."

Monte frowned, "You'll do more than the best, I hope."

"Uh-huh."

Monte loaded a bullet into the chamber, Moxxie realizing that it had been empty just seconds ago, the panic of being held at gunpoint preventing him from seeing it.

"First question. Do you know Stolas Goetia?"

Moxxie had to think hard about this. Given Stella's past with Stolas, and the fact that she seemed to be working with Monte, the answer he gave could easily put Stolas in danger.

"I-I don't know him that well, but-"

"Wrong answer!" Monte pulled the trigger, an empty click sounding out as the empty hole passed through the barrel.

"Please don't!" Moxxie squealed, expecting a bullet to fly through his brain at any minute.

He closed his eyes and braced for impact, like that would do anything when there were bullets piercing your skull. It was a reflex, something he did regardless of how practical it was, a last-ditch effort at keeping himself safe.

"I like it when you squirm." Monte said, eyes glowing brighter as his lips formed a sadistic smile, "Keep it up."

What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

Seriously, who says something like that? Is this some sort of messed up kink or something?

Not missing a beat, Monte continued on to his next question, Moxxie already on the verge of a heart attack. His body wasn't designed for this much pain and stimulation, and marveled at the fact that he was still conscious.

"Has he found his 'precious book' yet?" He said it with a rhetorical tone.

You bastard.

"N-Not yet," Moxxie answered, keeping his responses as vague as possible, "I-I was looking for it last night with the others, and then we went back to rest. And then-"

"I know what happened. It was a fucking rethorical question."

"Sorry."

Monte took a deep breath before continuing his interrogation, seemingly foaming at the mouth for the next chance he could get to beat him.

"Next question," the man hissed through gritted teeth, "How high is your pain tolerance?"

Moxxie didn't like the sound of that question.

Not at all.

"I-I don't know…" he responded, fearing retaliation, "I've been stabbed and shot before, so it's gotta be up there."

"How about we find out?" Monte balled his hand into a fist.

Shit.

Not again.

It had been less than a day, and he was already on his second beating from this guy.

Moxxie swerved his head to the side, barely missing a punch. For a brief moment, he thought that maybe he would be spared from the worst.

His luck quickly ran out, however, as Monte got him twice more in the face, a horrible cracking sound coming from his cheek. The familiar taste of blood coated his tongue, and he saw spots in his vision, little black lines fizzling in and out of sight.

But the worst part was the smile.

That twisted, devilish, sadistic smile.

Moxxie knew that being born in hell would mean being subjected to unprecedented cruelty, but being in his own little bubble of non-douches shielded him from the worst of what the land of the damned had to offer.

The way Monte seemed to smile with each punch, however, reminded him of how terrible and cruel the demons that roamed the floor of Hades truly were, grinning like a child opening a present on Christmas.

And Moxxie tried to resist, too, ducking and leaning to the side as much as his body would allow him to. But as blow after blow came and went, it became harder for him to move, in spite of his best efforts. Monte had clearly tied him up for a reason, and apparently that reason was to have an easy target, somebody that he could beat like a piñata who couldn't fight back.

Monte was smiling through the entire beating, eyes widening while his teeth seemed to sharpen, like fangs reaching out from his mouth.

People like him made Moxxie sick.

By the time Monte was through with his sick game, he was fairly sure the man had broken some of his ribs and possibly given him a concussion, although he had no way to truly tell.

"Now," Monte said, "You stay right here, I'll be back for you in a moment."

Leaving Moxxie battered and beaten in the chair, the man walked away and into another part of the cabin, closing the door behind him.

Even through the throbbing in his head and the heavy huffs of his own breathing, he could just barely make out what was being said behind the closed door. They clearly had no idea that he was able to hear him, so he tried to silence his breathing and listen in closer, now curious.

"...the little fucker isn't giving us anything!" an angry voice shouted, presumably Monte's, "I don't wanna have to kill him yet, but I will if he keeps pissing me off…"

""Don't kill him yet," Stella said, "I say we go after the impish bastard that started this whole thing. About time the damn plebeian learned his lesson, after everything he's done."

Blitzo.

As if things couldn't get any worse.

"And what do you propose we do with our little friend in the meantime?" Monte asked, "Not like the guy's gonna be of much help."

"Keep him. For now. If nothing else it gives you an excuse to beat the shit out of somebody. I didn't think you were one to deny such an opportunity, I saw that smile on your face. Not like he's gonna fight back or anything anyways."

Oh yeah?

Watch me!

I'll show ya!

If I ever get out of here…

"Fine. But I'm killing him the second we don't need him anymore, kapeesh?" Monte sounded visibly excited.

"Do I look like I'm going to stop you?" Stella sighed, "I don't give two shits about him as long as we take out that cheating bastard."

"Which I assure you, we will."

"Good. Because right now it feels like you're taking your sweet fucking time with it. Either get it done or I will fire you."

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the cabin door, the sound causing Moxxie to jump, sounding far too similar to Monte's footsteps.

Almost on cue, Monte stepped out and towards the door, putting his finger to his lips as he peeked through the keyhole.

They've found me!

It has to be them!

Right?

Moxxie's heart rate spiked as Monte stepped in and opened the door, expecting him to be ambushed and for Blitzo and Millie to barge in through that door and free him from this prison.

"Can I help you?" Monte asked.

An unfamiliar male voice answered, "There's a concert tonight in the first class dining hall, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in-"

Bam!

A gunshot pierced the air, the silencer barely muffling the sound as a body fell in through the doorway, blood pouring out of the man's head.

Moxxie didn't recognize the body, wearing an officer's uniform and carrying what appeared to be a stack of advertisements, pictures of string instruments attached to the front of the papers. They had a larger build, leaving a sizable dent in the doorframe after falling, and causing the room to shake upon hitting the floor.

Once again, his heart sank as he realized that the man was not here to save him, instead spending his last moments advertising some concert that Moxxie might've attended if he hadn't been tied up and beaten.

That same maniacal smile was on Monte's face as he ran his hand through the bloody mess that was once a head, now blown apart by a bullet. He quickly pulled the body inside and slammed the door shut, opening up a porthole and throwing the body into the sea.

"That's a warning," Monte said, "Don't piss me off."

There was a splash as the body hit the water, Monte bending over and washing the blood from the door, presumably removing any traces of evidence. Once he was finished with that, he came back over and stuffed the gag back into Moxxie's mouth, his jaw too sore to fight back.

"Don't you go squirming around, I have some other errands to run. If you're not back here when I return I'll snap your fucking neck like a twig." He held up a pencil and broke it in his hands, small splinters flying through the air.

Monte and Stella glared at him before opening the cabin door and leaving, Moxxie now alone and left to his own devices, the hinges squawking loudly as the poorly-oiled rods turned with the door.

As their footsteps and murmuring faded into the distance, Moxxie finally had time to contemplate just how screwed he was, the pounding of his heart his only company.

Locked alone in a cabin with a gag over your mouth didn't exactly provide an easy opportunity for escape, not to mention the fact that he was tied to a chair. With his one eye that wasn't swollen shut, he scanned the room, looking for anything that would help him in an escape.

But Monte had known that he'd be looking, and had already picked the room clean of any means of escape.

Not to mention, he had dehydration and blood loss to worry about.

Even though it had "only" been one day since his last drink, the symptoms were already setting in. Moxxie had gone long periods of time without drinking before, but never this long. And especially not with such extensive injuries. He wasn't a scientist, but he was pretty sure your body needed water to heal.

He was becoming increasingly dizzy, and his headache was worsening, although now he couldn't tell where dehydration ended and blunt-force trauma began. His throat was too dry to even produce saliva anymore, and if he didn't get himself some water soon, he was going to die before he got to the bottom of things and had the chance to get the hell out.

Looking towards his right shoulder, he could see the bone set higher up than it should've been, clearly dislocated. Setting it back in place was going to be painful, but he decided to leave it for the moment, seeing as he had no way to fix it with no use of his arms or legs.

Trying to move only brought about more pain, Moxxie biting the cloth to keep himself from screaming. He had been shot, stabbed, and beaten before, but this pain was on a whole new level, and he didn't know why. Maybe it was the fact that he knew there was no escaping. Every other time he had been hurt, he knew help would arrive quickly.

Now, that luxury was gone, instead left at the hands of a sadistic assassin and a vengeful queen, neither of which gave two shits about what happened to him. Once they realized he wasn't going to be of any use to them, they'd either kill him on the spot or let him die to dehydration and blood loss.

That was, unless there was something he wasn't being told. Monte wouldn't have kidnapped him without reason, right?"

All he wanted to do now was rip himself free and warn the others about what was going on, but he was no use all tied up. He was entirely helpless in the fates of his friends and comrades, his screams too muffled to even make it past the door. Monte and Stella were out there, unleashing whatever terrible plans they had, with Moxxie trapped in the backseat, forced to watch.

He should've been more careful. Going out alone on the ship at night like that was a terrible mistake, and one that he couldn't undo. He knew that there were people on the ship working against them, too! And now he had left everybody he loved alone, sitting ducks as danger lurked closer and closer. If something happened to them, it would be all his fault.

Loona had been right, he was a pussy.

Unable to properly speak, Moxxie silently cursed himself for being so naive, using up what little energy he had left.

A million thoughts were now whirling through his head, each one more distressing than the last. The uncertainty of the whole situation only left more room for his mind to wander, and with nothing else to occupy himself with, the panic gripped him even harder.

To think, only a day ago, he had actually been enjoying the trip, at least a little bit. It hadn't been perfect, far from it, but it seemed like a taste of heaven itself compared to the situation he was in now. His hopes hadn't been high for the vacation, but they were a helluva lot higher than this.

The fatigue of being tied up and beaten was beginning to set in, however, and he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. The only thing keeping him awake at this point was the pain that enveloped him.

He tried to close his eyes, hoping that maybe sleep would serve as an escape from all the discomfort and agony he was in. As much as he hated the idea of sleeping at such a dire time, he also knew he would be of no use if he was exhausted.

I'm sorry, guys.

I screwed up.

But, once I'm outta here.

I'll be there.

I just need time.

Falling asleep with a gag in your mouth was much harder than it let on, the cloth continuously getting caught in his mouth as he attempted to drift off to sleep and nearly suffocating him.. He had to angle his head just right to be able to rest without choking, each breath and movement a struggle.

The only light source was the pale purple glow coming in through the porthole as the sun sank below the horizon, casting the room into complete darkness once the last bit of light disappeared.

After that, sleep came quickly, Moxxie nodding off in the chair. Monte and Stella didn't come back, every set of nearby footsteps putting him on edge and pulling him back to a state of temporary alertness. Once a few minutes had passed with no activity, he forced his eyes shut, drifting off into a disturbed sleep.