Moxxie was back in the cabin, still bound to the chair and waiting patiently for something to happen. Besides a loud bang from deep in the ship a few moments ago, he hadn't heard anything of interest. And staring at an empty wall with your limbs tied up could only provide so much stimulation, time seeming to come to a complete standstill.

He had been using this time to think. Not about anything in particular, just to think. Planning an escape was still at the top of his list, but there wasn't much for him to do. His mind continued to drift to thoughts of home, of all the amenities and affection that he had taken for granted, becoming accustomed to having so much. Having an unhinged noble kidnap you and torture you for four days was quite the humbling experience, and all he wanted to do was get back home.

His memories, once pleasant, now served as torture, reminding him of good times and ghosts of pleasure that taunted him in his battered state, rubbing salt on an already open and gashing wound. It all seemed too far out of his reach, trapped in a box of echoing torment. Knowing that he was so far away from the few people he felt safe around, and yet so close to a man he feared more than anything he had ever feared before. It made Blitzo and Loona seem like house pets, because as much as he hated how they treated him, Moxxie knew that they wouldn't go as far as to kill him.

Monte, on the other hand, was far more unhinged, and Moxxie was surprised the man hadn't killed him already. After all, hadn't his original plan been to lure the others to his location and slaughter them all at once? What had happened?

In his own personal opinion, Moxxie believed that Monte was keeping him around just to have someone to torture. The grin of pure, sadistic joy on his face during each of his beatings signaled the utmost enjoyment in his pain, and why would somebody as evil as that want to give up his ragdoll? Somebody to beat and beat until there was nothing left, who wouldn't fight back no matter how hard they tried? Monte wasn't going to give him up until he had beaten every bit of life out of him, drawing out the process as long as possible.

And now that fucker was off kidnapping Blitzo, yet another pawn is his sleazy game. How cowardly of him, to be using others to get to his target instead of just doing it himself.

Now, however, Moxxie was closer to escaping.

Over the last couple days, he had been slowly working at the ropes around his arms with his fingernails, only doing a little bit at a time. And now with Monte and Stella gone, he could finish off the ropes and possibly get himself out.

With a swish of his finger, he took out another thread, listening carefully to the noises in the hallway for anything that might signal their return. Because if they found him mid-escape, it was all going to be over for him.

Alright, deep breaths, Moxxie.

You're so close to freedom.

So close.

He inhaled sharply as he cut the final thread, the ropes falling to the ground, only leaving his feet tied up. Which was fine, since all he had to do now was bend over and free his feet.

Once those knots were untied, he stood up for the first time in days, falling to the floor as his legs woke back up, the muscles adjusting to moving after four days of inactivity. Simply standing on his own was an outstanding feat, his injuries from the last few days all adding up, pain wrapping around his body like some tisted blanket.

"Fuck yeah!" he muttered to himself, finally free of his shackles.

He almost had the chance to celebrate more, but his already small window of time was about to slam shut.

Gunshots rang out down the hallway, Moxxie flinching at the sound as he heard voices approaching the door.

"...let me go!" a female voice shouted, "What the hell did I do?"

Is that?

No, it can't be.

"Oh, does the little princess miss her daddy?" Stella's voice barked, "Want him to come in and save you?"

"Fuck you!"

There was a slam up against the door, shaking the room and nearly tipping Moxxie's chair over. The shouts began to overlap, any words being spoken becoming unintelligible.

"Aw fuck…" Moxxie muttered under his breath, not ready for the shitstorm that he knew was going to burst in through that door..

He began to panic as the doorknob turned, knowing that he was in for a world of hurt if Monte and Stella found him away from where he was supposed to be. And he didn't want to stick around and see if any of this shit could get worse than it already was.

Oh no…

The door burst open, Monte and Stella bursting in, covered with cuts and bruises and dripping wet. Stella had another figure in her hand, slumped over her shoulder, sharing a striking resemblance.

Once Moxxie's eyes focused, though, he quickly realized they hadn't dragged on some stranger.

The figure in Stella's arms was Octavia, the two of them immediately tying her to another chair and loading their guns.

"Put me down!" she shouted, "What's wrong with you?"

"Hey!" Monte shouted, spotting Moxxie out of his chair, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Moxxie grew dizzy as the man towered over him, bending down and grabbing him by the shoulders while Octavia and Stella screamed at each other in the background. He could feel Monte's angry breath on his face, eyes burning red with rage. What scared him most, though, was the angry expression juxtaposed by a wide grin, like he had just won the lottery.

"Come, Moxxie," he said, voice suddenly calm, "We don't want you running away now, do we?"

His simile quickly turned to a frown as he grunted angrily, before raising Moxxie into the air and winding his arm back. Moxxie attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, but just like with Octavia, his efforts went down in vain, helpless against the brute before him.

Oh no…

With a sudden thrust, he threw Moxxie across the cabin and into the wall, tossing him with the same ease that somebody would throw a football. He hit the wall with a thud , his back taking most of the impact as the air was knocked out of his lungs, gasping for breath.

"Stop it!" Octavia hissed, "You're hurting him!"

"No shit," Monte asked, "And you'll be next if you don't shut your fucking mouth."

Black splotches seemed to be dancing around the room, the impact having been harder than once thought. He turned around and saw blood staining the wall, along with a Moxxie-sized dent in the paint. The fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a satanic miracle.

Blood spilled out of his mouth, staining the floor and leaving a salty and metallic odor. A salty taste filled his mouth, probably more blood coming up from the back of his mouth and nearly choking him.

He let out a moan, almost resembling a death-rattle as soreness and fatigue once again began to take over

Across the room, Octavia was already tied to a chair, much like Moxxie had been just a few moments ago and likely would be again. These two seemed to have a bizarre interest in tying their subjects up, and Moxxie didn't want to think about what that could mean.

Monte reached over and kicked him in the chest before picking him back up and forcing him into another chair, Moxxie fighting to stay lucid as the pain warped his vision and made him want to scream.

"Now, little brat," Monte said, "You're going to behave yourself, kapeesh?"

"Or what?" Moxxie sassed in a moment of pure stupidity, "What are you going to do? Kill me?"

"When I'm through with you, you'll wish you were dead."

Well, that didn't go as expected.

He was thrown and tied up to yet another chair, him and Octavia having their backs facing each other, while Stella paced around them like a hawk circling its prey. Just looking at her filled him with disgust, the barbarism of her actions eliminating any shred of respect he may have once had for her.

"So, Via," Stella said, with a smile that made him want to leap up and slap her, "How does it feel?"

Octavia didn't dignify her with a response, Moxxie joining in on the silence.

Stella, being as impatient as she was, decided that she wasn't going to wait for them to speak up, instead taking the butt of her gun and ramming it against Octavia's face, grinning as she let out the smallest wince of pain.

"Hey!" Moxxie shouted, almost insictively, "What the fuck is your problem?"

A mirror was mounted on the wall, and he saw blood running down Octavia's face, holding a strained expression while seemingly forcing herself to keep her mouth shut, tears dripping down her face as her mother delivered a second blow.

Moxxie felt sick just watching what was going on. How could a mother do such a thing to her own child? He had always been one to believe that everybody had redeeming qualities, but watching Stella was making him question that philosophy.

"You think we should just shoot 'em now?" Stella asked, leaning towards Monte with a gun, "Little bitch won't talk."

Monte seemed to contemplate it, before getting a seemingly better idea.

"Not yet. Kill the big guy first, then we take them. I still like watching the red one squirm." Monte giggled.

"Go to hell!" Octavia finally hissed, sobbing slightly as she tried to keep her voice stable.

All they did was grin as the two of them mounted handguns next to both of their heads, tying an elaborate rope and pulley system and chuckling maniacally. Moxxie was barely lucid enough to tell what they were doing, and part of him kept wondering why they kept dancing this dance, to keep him and now Octavia alive while stepping around killing them, which he had thought was the original objective. At this point he just wanted them to get it over with instead of drawing out his suffering, his body and mind in constant anguish and turmoil.

Strings were tied around the triggers and then to their feet, keeping them from escaping. Monte wasn't a dumb man, he knew that they were going to try and break out.

"Now, we're going to go pay your father a visit," Stella said, creepily stroking Octavia's chin before looking over to Monte, "And this time, we're fucking finihsing the job, right?"

"Right," Monte said, taking his blessed rifle out of his bag, "And if you guys try to get out, those blessed rifles at your heads will blow you to bits before you have the chance to even scream. And don't think I'll care."

"I hope you get shot!" Octavia shouted yet again, Moxxie growing increasingly nervous that her outbursts would get both of them killed.

The two didn't dignify them with a response.

"Hey, where's my fucking room key?" Monte asked, rubbing his hand against an empty pocket before glaring at Moxxie and Octavia, "Did one of you fuckers take it?!"

They both shook their heads, hoping that she believed them and didn't shoot them out of rage.

"Fine. C'mon, we've got some bitches to kill."

With that, Monte and Stella walked out and slammed the door shut behind them, shaking the room with the force. Moxxie listened as their angry voices began to fade, staring at the barrel of the rifle right in between his eyes, trembling as he made sure to keep himself still so as to not somehow pull the trigger. One blast from that thing, and they would be having to scrape him off of the walls like a bad paint job.

Octavia fought and struggled against the restraints, fruitless against the tight ropes and barrels pointed at her head. If she was dying, she sure as hell wasn't going to die at her mother's hands. That royal bitch wasn't going to succeed as long as she had air in her lungs.

"Fuck this!" Octavia hissed, falling back in her seat in defeat, not having the energy to any more. Trying to break through ropes was more exciting than she had once thought, especially when her moves had to be carefully calculated to keep herself alive.

She tried to muffle her own sobs, not wanting to make a fool of herself in front of Moxxie. Not that she necessarily cared about his opinion, but it just felt wrong to be such a mess in front of somebody that she barely knew.

To her surprise, however, Moxxie responded, still sounding calm and comforting despite the hell that he had clearly been through in the last few days.

"You alright?" he asked, plain and simple, his voice almost reminding her of that of her father.

"The hell do you think?" Octavia said, "My mom's trying to kill me, my dad is probably going to get killed, and now I'm trapped in this fucking place! I hate my fucking family so much! My dad is having an affair that is tearing us apart, and now my mom is resorting to fucking murder to get her way because that spoiled bitch can't take anything bad happening to her, and my dad keeps seeing your goddamn boss even though he knows what it's doing it us!"

She didn't mean to snap at the guy, the emotions snowballing and spilling out of her mouth before she had a chance to hold her tongue. The fact that she was keeping herself together at all was a surprise, teetering on the edge of hysterics.

"Yeah, that sucks," Moxxie said, "I'm sorry that you've had to go through that."

There was an awkward pause between them, neither one seemingly sure what to say. The fact that someone had even bothered to listen to her instead of screaming at her was oddly comforting, a feeling of companionship and care present that she hadn't felt in years, although that could have just been the adrenaline wearing off.

A sudden pulse of pain overtook her ribs as she tried to turn around, having bruised them in her fight with Stella.

"We've been looking for you," Octavia said after a long pause, "Even though she was sick, that Millie gal wouldn't shut up about you."

"Sick? What happened to her?" Moxxie asked, his voice heightening in pitch with concern.

She had almost forgotten that Moxxie knew next to nothing about the events of the last few days, probably only getting whatever distorted, cherry-picked versions that Monte and Stella had given him. Being trapped alone for this long with little contact with the outside world couldn't have been good for his sanity.

"That Monte guy laced your food with something at dinner," she continued, "And he gave her a lot more than you. She was out for nearly a whole day."

His expression seemed to perk, connecting the dots in his head. Octavia was barely able to catch his reflection in the cabin's mirror, serving as the only avenue for visual communication.

"Bastards…" he muttered, "Fucking bastard."

His face was dotted with cuts, along with swollen eyelids and bruises. He even looked to be missing a couple teeth, blood coating the outside of his lips, all coupled with an expression that conveyed desperation and surrender.

"What did they do to you?" she asked, anger in her voice, "What the hell are they doing to you?!"
Octavia never thought she'd find herself becoming defensive on behalf of an imp, let alone of her father's lover's employees, but yet here she was, ready to make hell rain down on the lowlifes that had tortured him.

Moxxie remained silent, eyes glazing over.

"What does it look like?!" he grumbled with a bitterness that she didn't know he possessed, "What does it fucking look like?!"
Her heart ached as she registered the emotion in his voice, sharply contrasting the happy and bubbly version of him that she had once had in her head. They might not have interacted much, but they had spoken more on the trip, and she had formed a general idea of his personality fairly quickly. To see that only four days away had begun to chip away at that was heartbreaking.

Moxxie went on, "I was so close to getting out. I had broken through the ropes and was ready to make a run for it. So close…"

"They didn't even let you out of the chair?"

"Nope. It's been four days of this."

Four days of torture and still keeping themselves alive. Octavia needed to give this guy more credit, since her first impression of him had been a passive imp with no fighting spirit or vigor. Even she would have given up by this point, and yet Moxxie had kept going, now back at square one.

Yet another long pause ensued.

"It took four days, but at least one of us found you," Octavia said, "I knew that Monte guy was going to be bad news from the start. But I didn't think that he would go this far. I shouldn't have made you keep your mouth shut."

"You had no idea that he would do this," Moxxie responded, his voice calm and soothing again, "I shouldn't have gone out alone like that."

"Hey, this isn't your fault, either. Those murderous rich fucks are why we're here, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right."

Octavia shifted in her seat, her back already aching from the tough wood.

"I'm glad you're alive, I guess," Octavia muttered, feeling like he needed at least a little bit of a boost, "With these guns, though, I'm not sure how much time we have left…"

Moxxie cocked his head, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. If he somehow figured out a way out of here, she would be blown away. He would have to pull some action-hero level shit to get them out of this situation.

The minutes felt like they were turning to hours, Octavia's eyes still staring directly down the barrel of a gun. How the trip had gone from a beautiful and peaceful vacation to a hellish voyage filled with kidnappings and attempted murders, she had no idea, and regretted ever stepping foot on the godforsaken ship. Perhaps if they were lucky, one of them would make it out alive.

"Alright, I'm doing something that goes against every gun safety rule that I know," Moxxie said, "So don't do this unless your life depends on it, which aside from today, I don't think it will."

"Whatever, just get on with it!"

"As you wish."

Sweat pouring down his face, Moxxie wedged his tail out of the ropes and raised it to the back of the main gun.

"This is going to take a long time," he said, "I can't move very much or else, well…" He motioned to the gun, "This thing'll blow my head off."

"For somebody with a literal gun to your head, you seem calm. You act like this is a normal thing."

"Have you seen what I do for work? Having a gun to my head is nothing new."

"Fair point."

Octavia had never truly considered the fact that Moxxie was an assassin until that very moment. She had defined his personality by two traits: Not shutting up, and being passive. Now she realized that there seemed to be more to this guy than once thought, and she was curious as to what else she would discover, watching intently as he carefully fumbled with the back of the gun.

Wanting to keep her mind from spiraling out, she did something that she normally hated to do: Try and engage in conversation. Despite her distaste for small talk and being around people in general, the stress on her mind was going to be too much if she didn't find some way to distract herself, even if things were already near their worst.

"So…" she mumbled, trying to hide the pain in her voice.

She tried to think of something to talk about, but realized that any topic might come off as insensitive after what he had been through. Even something as simple as "How are you?" would probably be considered condescending and rudely sarcastic, since the two of them already knew how terrible it had been.

"So what?" Moxxie whispered back, "I'm listening."

"Nothing. Just wanted to try and talk. Better than sitting her waiting to die."

"If all goes according to plan," he paused to gently rub the tip of his tail along the back of the rifle near the chamber, "We won't be dying in here. Not if this works out…"

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Well, I'm trying to see if I can unload these things without setting them off," Moxxie squeaked as he nearly pulled the trigger by accident, "And as long as I don't accidently kill myself, I think I'll be able to get these bullets out. There looks to be three shells in each magazine, so as I said before, it's going to take a little bit."

"You really know your guns, don't you?"

"Well, I'd hope so. After all, I handle them for a living! You should know the ins-and-outs of your weapons before using them. You wouldn't want an idiot handling a weapon, now would you?"

"Explain your boss then," Octavia chuckled, "I wouldn't trust him with a spoon."

"Blitz is actually very skilled with his marksmanship, as surprising as that may seem. He's very good with his weapons."

"Yeah. We got him out of there, by the way."

Moxxie stopped for a moment.

"So they went through with their plan of taking him away, didn't they?" He winced, "I heard them talking about it on my first day in here, and I was going to try and get out to warn you guys, but they knocked me out…"

His voice seemed to be shaking a bit, but he continued, eyes still on the gun.

"I would've gotten out of here sooner, believe me. I didn't want this to happen any more than the next guy. I knew they were after you the second they took me in, and I kept trying to get out so you guys would have a chance, but they made it so, so hard. Whenever I opened my eyes, Monte would be right there and ready to beat me like a sack of potatoes, and when he wasn't, he was either going after you guys or creepily staring at me from the corner. And if I have anything to say about it, we're getting out of here before that bastard has the chance to get back here."

God, this guy had been through a lot.

"Well, they didn't get to us until tonight, if that helps," Octavia said, "All we've been doing is looking for you. First the book, then you, then Blitz, then me, those two won't stop."

"I know where the book is," Moxxie said, "I saw them with it couple nights ago."

Octavia breathed a sigh of relief, happy that something good had happened in the course of the night. If they could find that book, they were one step closer to getting off of the ship in one piece and not in a coffin. Not that the book would have much use with it being a new moon, but they would at least have it.

"Where?!" she asked.

Moxxie turned to his side, motioning to a closet door with his head, "Over there in a safe. Thirty-one, twenty-two, and thirty-three is the combination. It's pretty deep in there but we should be able to find it."

"And they didn't kill you for seeing it?"

He chuckled, "They didn't know I was watching. As cunning and calculating as Monte and Stella are, even they have their weak points."

"You're a lot more useful than I thought you'd be."

"That sounded backhanded but I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"You do that."

There was yet another long pause, and Octavia sat patiently while Moxxie did his work, making almost no progress as she waited. Which, although annoying, she knew that he was the gun expert and to let him do his thing. Otherwise they would probably die in here, which isn't exactly something that any of them wanted.

"How have you survived living with her?" Moxxie asked, probably referencing her mother, "I don't mean to sound insensitive, but I could barely last four days wth her. And if it's a bad topic or anything, feel free to not answer. I was just curious."

"Why weren't you this talkative before?" she said sarcastically, "You barely said two words to me until now."

"What can I say? Torture changes people," Moxxie laughed in an attempt at a joke, "But seriously, how did you live with that?"

She asked herself the same question. How had she survived Stella all this time? Sure, she didn't tie her up and beat her senseless all the time, but life with her was still a living hell.

Shrugging, Octavia gave the best answer that she could, "I did my best to keep away from her. Usually I'd listen to music or hide in my room until things cooled down. When she was calm, she was bearable. Then again, I also didn't have her tying me up for days at a time."

"Stella? Calm? Please."

"No, I'm serious. There was actually a point in my life where...she wasn't like this. Back when I was younger we would do everything together. We would go to the park, tour the rings, play games in the palace. For a while things were..okay."

The memories began to creep back into her head, Octavia forcing them back to a darker part of her brain to not be remembered. Nostalgia, especially in her case, was unbearably painful, knowing that things would never return to the way that they once had been. A dark cloud had been hanging over her head for years now, the loss of her own innocence at the hands of a parent having lasting effects. What she would give to go back to ten years ago, back when she was just an innocent child who didn't have a care in the world, with two loving and faithful parents by her side to keep her close when things got hard.

Drowning in a river of rushing thoughts, Octavia found herself zoning out and tearing away from reality, almost like being in a dream. Moxxie seemed to catch on, even through his handiwork on the gun.

"You alright?" he asked, "You became awfully quiet."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, nearly pulling on the strings attached to the gun.

"Yeah, just thinking…" she said.

"Memories?" he responded, seemingly reading her mind.

"Um, yeah. Good old times, I guess."

She caught a sympathetic gaze in the mirror coming from Moxxie.

"Believe me, I get it," he replied, keeping a blank expression, "All I've had time to do in here was think and reflect."

"Thinking about what?"

"Well, just home I suppose. I was thinking about the trip, about work, about Blitz, and Loona, and of course Millie. Of course, consistent beatings to your head didn't exactly give me the excessive freedom of thought, but you get what I mean."

"You talk just like my father, you know that?"

"Not quite sure how to react to that, but okay."

"No, I mean you just use the same words that he does. You should be happy that you talk like a royal."

Moxxie chuckled, tail still on the rifle.

How she had gone from a rescue mission to joking around with an imp while tied to a chair at gunpoint, she would never know. But at least they were able to laugh a bit, even though it was temporary. It was just what they needed in such a high-pressure situation, as long as it didn't put them in danger, of course.

"I just want to get home to Millie," he said, "The fact that he poisoned her like you told me only gives me more reason to want to blow his brains out."

"The kidnapping had something to do with that too, I assume?"

"Of course it did. But I also miss her, we haven't been apart for this long in a long time."

"You really love her, don't you?"

"Hell yes, I love her. I married her, did I not?"

"You two make a cute couple. I wish I could say the same thing about my parents."

"Yeah, that's gotta be horrible. I can't imagine how terrible that is."

"I think after all you've been through, now you can."

For what felt like the thousandth time, there was an uncomfortably long lull in the conversation.

"Well, assuming we get out of here alive, if anything happens with your folks I'm sure that Millie would be okay with you hiding out at our place until things blow over. I can't imagine it's easy to live in a place like that," he said, "Plus, it gets boring in our house anyway. We like entertaining guests."

Octavia was a bit puzzled by the offer, but also not surprised that it had come from Moxxie of all people. And it was an offer that she would probably have to take up at one point or another, simply because of how insane and broken her family was. And even though she hadn't known him for very long, right now Moxxie was one of the only people that she could consider a "friend" anyways. Being a royal might have provided one with extravagance and luxury, but it heavily lacked in the social aspects of life. She could count on one hand how many friends she had had over the last seventeen years of her life, and it wasn't something she was proud of.

"I might take you up on that," she said, "Assuming it won't be too much."

"It won't be, I'm sure of it."

He turned back to working on the gun, Octavia noticing a cold feeling at her feet.

She turned back to the door, wondering if maybe it would hold an answer.

Instead, a sight greeted her that sent chills up her spine, followed by an intense feeling of panic.

"Hey, can you hurry up with your little plan?" Octavia asked nervously.

"I'm going as fast as I can. Why?"

"Oh, no reason..." she said while running her feet through the water that was creeping into the room, the floor taking on a noticeable incline.