Chapter song: Hey Now by London Grammar
The small spaceship emitted a dark aura that made my skin crawl. Its shadows crept through the door, swallowing me whole as I was forced up the ramp. "Who is Ronan?" I asked. The woman only glanced over her shoulder and smirked. "Please…" I begged, once again pulling against her. "Let me go."
"Quiet!" she shouted. I nearly tripped as she dragged me into the ship.
The last twenty-four hours had been hell, and it only seemed to be getting worse. I wasn't sure how much more my mind and body could take. Inside the ship I was met with two armored aliens whose faces were hard to look at. Four sharp pincers lined their noses and mouth, giving them the appearance of a humanoid insect. If it weren't for the constricting pressure of fear I felt tightening around my neck, I probably would have screamed. I nearly sighed with relief when the woman continued leading me through the ship and away from them.
Once again the ship's engines roared to life, shaking the floor and my body as well. The woman's strong grip on my arm was the only thing keeping me steady. When we came to an abrupt halt, I pulled my eyes away from the floor and looked up. In front of us stood tall, double-doors which were covered in complex, geometric patterns. I had no idea whether it was meant to be beautiful or not, but there was no denying its artistic nature. Without warning I was pushed through the doors and led down a foreboding hallway.
I urged all of my emotions to go away, but the tears seemed to fall faster with every step. I angrily wiped my cheeks as we stopped in front of another set of doors. Once opened, she grabbed ahold of my tank top and roughly tossed me inside, causing me to stumble and catch myself on my hands and knees. Terrified and exhausted, I remained frozen on the ground with my eyes focused beneath me.
"Ronan," the woman announced. "This girl was seen conversing with Star Lord. I was told the conversation appeared serious." The room seemed to fill with a satiable silence.
"I asked for the orb and you bring me a girl," the man replied, spitting the last word.
Despite my better judgement, I found myself looking up in his direction. Never before had I heard a voice as mesmerizing as his. It was a sound so deep and rich I could feel it in the air around me, seeping into my skin and bones. His back was the only part of him I could see, but I knew instantly he was unlike anyone I'd ever encountered before in my life. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, he wore dark armor over his entire body, enhancing his broad shoulders and chest. On top of his head he wore matching armor in the shape of a hood, so I was unable to see his face.
I mustered up what little courage I had left and stood up. "Ronan…sir," I awkwardly began. "I don't want any trouble, so…" I said, trailing off as he turned to face me.
Instead of finding another hideous creature inside the armor, I was staring into the piercing, purple eyes of a man who was more handsome than I imagined possible for an alien. His smooth skin was a magnificent shade of blue, reminding me of a twilight sky just after sunset. It was truly beautiful. Around his brilliant, shining eyes was a thick, black paint which connected to his bottom lip and chin. The mask did little to hide his handsome features.
I cautiously stood up as he slowly made his way towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. Despite looking every inch a warrior, the way he held himself suggested he was a commander. He stopped only when he was within arm's reach. The height difference between us was enough to make my neck ache. We locked eyes with each other, both of us exchanging the same curious looks for a moment before his gaze drifted downwards. The heat in my cheeks intensified when I saw his eyes linger on my torso.
"Whose blood is that?" he asked, breaking the silence. The hair on the back of my neck straightened at his icy tone.
Confused, I looked down to see what he was talking about. Much to my surprise there were bright red splatters all across the front of my tank top and down my right arm.
It must be Forezzo's blood.
I nervously bit my lip, trying to come up with an answer that didn't involve murder. "I was, umm, painting earlier," I muttered anxiously. "It's not...blood."
When he didn't respond, I hesitantly looked up until I met his eyes. My stomach dropped at the pure rage I saw burning within the purple orbs. Frightened by his sudden change in demeanor, I began backing away from him out of instinct. Before I could place any real distance between us, he seized my left hand with his own and prevented me from moving.
His eyes narrowed as I resisted against his hold. "Let go of me!" I shouted furiously. "I said – AHHHH!"
Blinding pain sent me falling to my knees with a scream. Looking down, I saw that my pinky finger was now unnaturally bent sideways, pointing outwards like a broken twig. On the floor I cradled my hand to my chest, screaming with horror and shock as my arm pulsed with agony.
"Oh, God," I yelled between sobs. "Please, somebody help me!"
As his attention was diverted to the woman by the door, I quickly climbed to my feet and began running away. "Leave us," he ordered quietly behind me. The heavy, solid doors could be heard closing a moment later. The last remaining light seemed to vanish along with any hope.
After a quick inspection of the room I realized the only exit was the one we entered. I strained my eyes against the dark, shaking terribly as the man grew closer with every long, confident step. I stepped backwards until there was nowhere left for me to go.
Ronan was glaring at me, frowning distastefully as he closed the space between us. "The next lie you speak will be your last, Terran," he warned, coming to a halt. I squirmed nervously against the wall, anxious to be as far away from him as I possibly could. "Tell me," he growled, grabbing the hair above the back of my neck. "Whose blood is that?" I yelped as he pulled on my hair, forcing me to look up at him.
Tears fell down my cheeks like ribbons of water. "His name was Forezzo," I answered, choking back a sob. "I was kidnapped and sold to him." Ronan's brow deepened as I spoke. "He was going to make me one of his whores, so I – I killed him," I said, now crying openly. "I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to do…"
Ronan appeared unphased by my distraught state, anger still lurking in his eyes. "What is your relationship to Star Lord?" he promptly asked.
I frowned with confusion. "Who is St… oh," I said as it dawned on me. Star Lord was Peter, the man who wanted to help me. Our short conversation replayed in my mind. I recalled him holding a round object in his hand and saying he was going to save the galaxy.
The orb, I realized, remembering what Ronan said to the woman earlier. Peter has the orb that Ronan wants.
Although I only spoke with him briefly, I knew Peter was a good man and I didn't want him to get in trouble. "I don't really know him," I said, carefully avoiding Ronan's eyes. "I just met him."
The next thing I knew I was being slammed against the wall behind me. The back of my skull collided with the metal, causing everything in my vision to wildly spin. My head swayed on my shoulders before Ronan roughly grabbed ahold of my jaw, squeezing it in his hand. I whimpered as my vision refocused on two bright, purple eyes staring intensely into my own.
"Tell me what you know," he said slowly, his grip tightening on my jaw.
Underneath his hand I could feel the bones threatening to break. "Please," I wailed, "just let me go home. I have nothing to do with this!" He scowled at me in response, baring his teeth which was coated in the same black paint as his face. His large, rough hand lowered to my neck, encompassing it completely.
"I will end your pitiful life," he growled, lifting me into the air.
As I felt my toes leave the floor, I knew I was going to be dead in a matter of seconds. With no blood rushing to my head, my sight instantly grew dim. Out of instinct I clung to his arm and tried to pull it away. Ronan continued to glare at me with repulsion, watching me while I feebly attempted to escape. Just as my vision began to fade into the unknown, I was unexpectedly dropped to the floor at his feet, coughing and gasping for air. The sudden rush of blood to my head left it feeling unbearably heavy, so I remained lying on the floor, looking up at Ronan who was now towering over me.
With cold eyes he placed the bottom of his boot on my neck, threatening to crush my windpipe right then and there. "Speak, Terran," he growled.
"He said something about a weapon that could destroy planets," I began slowly, still trying to catch my breath. "He's taking it to a place called Zandoor or Sandar, I think."
The answer seemed to satisfy him because he lifted his boot and proceeded to slowly pace next to me. When he wasn't looking I ran my fingers along the skin of my neck and felt indentions where his boot had been. For the next minute he continued to pace back and forth, thinking quietly to himself. At this point my finger stopped hurting as much, but that was because the circulation was now cut off from the broken bone. It was starting to turn white, and I felt sick looking at it. As I sat up he looked at me from the corner of his eyes, his body still slightly turned away.
In his eyes I could see suspicion forming. "Why would he reveal his plans to a supposed stranger?" he asked, his voice filled with accusation.
"I asked him the same question," I snapped defensively. I immediately regretted my tone when I saw Ronan's scowl with irritation. Before he could decide to hurt me again, I looked away and continued. "He said because I'm harmless and I'm… oh, never mind," I muttered nervously. "He was being stupid."
"Tell me," he barked impatiently, taking a step towards me.
I closed my eyes in embarrassment and sighed, already regretting my next words. "He said I was… nice to look at," I mumbled quietly. When he didn't respond, I hesitantly looked up again and caught him arrogantly smirk before turning away.
"Nebula," he called. The doors instantly opened to reveal the blue woman waiting patiently on the other side.
He glanced dismissively in my direction and took a step towards Nebula. "Take her to a cell and see that she is fed," he ordered, his eyes now filled with determination.
"What is happening?" she asked, sensing Ronan's excitement.
"We are going to Xandar," he said amused, turning away from both of us.
I stood there defeated, once again cradling my broken hand with a sinking heart. What have I done? This psychopath was going to find Peter because of me.
Nebula began pulling on my shoulder to take me to my cell, but Ronan stepped in front of us blocking our path.
"Wait," he commanded, staring down at me. "Tell me your name." Based on his expression I would have guessed he was somewhere between irritated and curious. I was hoping it was the former.
"Silvia," I answered meekly. I didn't like how he was standing so close to me. He reached for my left hand and I instinctively pulled away from him.
"No! I didn't lie to you!" I screamed, flailing around as he caught my wrist. "I swear! Please!"
"Be still," he growled. His tone suggested he was not going to tolerate my defiance, so with my eyes tightly shut, I quietly whimpered and braced myself for the pain. Much to my surprise, I felt nothing but the gentle touch of his hand. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to see what he was doing.
He held my left hand with both of his hands, turning it in different directions while he inspected my broken finger. His large blue hands made my hand look tiny in comparison. I watched his face as he examined my finger, giving me the opportunity to admire his features more closely. His deep-set eyes were intimidating to look upon, and his high cheekbones and long, sharp nose made him look very wise. When he wasn't scowling, his wide lips slightly turned up at the corners, giving him a menacing look. I was still staring at his lips when I noticed he was looking directly at me.
As we made eye contact, he abruptly twisted my broken finger, causing me to scream and writhe in agony. He continued to pull and twist on my finger while I cried in response. After a full minute of this horrible pain, I was covered in sweat and on the verge of vomiting. As I heard my finger pop into place, I gripped onto the nearest thing which happened to be Ronan's arm, and fell unconscious at his feet.
When I awoke, I was lying face down on a cold, metal floor. Not knowing whether or not I was alone, I remained unmoving and listened carefully. After a moment of penetrable silence, I tiredly rolled over and stood up with tremendous effort. I was immediately surprised by what I saw. Compared to the cell on Yondu's ship, this room felt like a palace. It wasn't necessarily large, but there was plenty of space and it was spotlessly clean. There were even some pieces of furniture. In the far left corner of the room sat a simple metal cot and table. The cot looked far from comforting, but it was better than sleeping on the floor. On the other side of the room was an archway leading into a bathroom with no door. Inside I was delighted to see a shower and toilet, both spotlessly clean.
My whole body felt utterly disgusting from today's previous events. Tears, sweat, and blood left me smelling horrible and in desperate need of a bath. Without a second thought I stripped off all of my clothes and threw them into the shower. I knew it would be pointless to clean myself only to put filthy clothes back on. As I stepped into the narrow, tiled shower, I smiled at the built-in soap dispensers nestled in the wall. I held my hand underneath the box and watched as it delivered the perfect amount of pink suds into my palm. I eagerly leaned down and smelled the soap, stupidly expecting it to smell like roses or peonies, and immediately choked on its harsh chemical scent. Fortunately its smell didn't hinder its effectiveness. The dirt and grime was removed from my hand with hardly any effort. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feeling of hot water running down my back, sighing contentedly to myself. I almost forgot about my finger until I started washing my hair and it erupted in pain.
After thirty minutes of peaceful solitude, I stepped outside of the shower and quickly wrung my clothes out. When I walked out of the bathroom I was startled to see a tray sitting on the table next to my cot. Next to the tray was a glass of water and a small, spherical pill.
Not a second later, Nebula walked into my cell and closed the door behind her with more force than necessary. She looked me up and down, noticing my dripping wet hair and clothes, and then looked at the tray of food.
With one hand on her hip, she pursed her lips and scowled. "Why haven't you eaten your food, Terran?" she asked.
"Well, I literally saw it five seconds ago," I mumbled. "I'll eat it, trust me." Her face immediately wrinkled with disgust. "What is the pill for?" I asked, glancing at it anxiously.
She looked at me for a few seconds as if she was deciding whether or not to answer me, and then rolled her eyes impatiently. "It will heal you," she sneered walking to the door. "Eat. Now." Once again she slammed the door shut behind her with tremendous strength. This time it was my turn to roll my eyes.
I walked over to the tray and inspected the strange assortment of food. There was a round, brown roll, a piece of dark meat, and a fruit that resembled a banana, only it was green and covered in spikes. I hesitantly took a bite of the bread first. My taste buds erupted with sensation as the sour, tangy dough fizzled on my tongue and turned to foam. Shocked, I spat it out onto the tray and watched it dissolve into a puddle of clear liquid. Now feeling even more wary, I tore off a piece of meat and smelled it. The familiar scent of beef wafted through my nose, making my mouth water and my stomach grumble with excitement. I eagerly took a bite, and then immediately stopped. It was not beef. It was not meat. I had no idea what it was. The only thing to come to mind was a pickled, leather-boot. Finally, with a still-empty, disappointed stomach I picked up the suspicious-looking fruit. Although it resembled a banana, I knew it would be foolish of me to assume it tasted like one. I cautiously unpeeled the fruit and felt even more skeptical when it appeared identical to a banana. After the first bite, I threw my hands up in defeat and sighed. It was a fucking banana.
After another attempt at the mystery meat, I gave up and swallowed the pill with a glass of water. Ten minutes later I felt a warm, fuzzy feeling overcome my body. Soon I was lying immobilized on my bed. It felt similar to the effect anesthesia had on me when I had my wisdom teeth removed. I felt like I was spinning, yet I was lying perfectly still. I held my hand out in front of my face and examined my pinky finger. It was swollen and completely covered in purple, but at the moment it didn't hurt one bit.
The next minute, I was laughing uncontrollably to the point of tears. There was nothing funny about my situation. I'm being held prisoner on an alien spaceship. Get ahold of yourself! For some reason this thought only made me laugh harder. Either I was suffering from a psychotic break or I was as high as a kite.
When I was done laughing I sighed contentedly and opened my eyes. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not because suddenly Ronan was standing over me, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. The seriousness of his expression made me erupt with laughter once again. I knew I should be afraid of him, but the pill was slowly making me lose my grip on reality.
I tried sitting up but my body felt unbelievably heavy, so I quickly fell back down to the bed giggling. I lazily rolled over onto my side and started reaching out to touch the armor on his leg. It appeared as soft and smooth as a river pebble, and my fingers were begging to feel it. He stepped backwards out of my reach when he saw my hand coming for him, and sat down in a chair he had facing my cot. I pouted in disappointment and let my arm hang over the bed, now mesmerized by the moving patterns on the floor.
"Silvia," Ronan said, causing me to look up. He sat in the chair with his legs widely spread apart, resting both hands on top of each thigh. I pointedly avoided looking anywhere below his waist. "What else did Star Lord say to you?" he asked, his voice low with seriousness.
I blinked slowly and smiled at him. "You said my name," I whispered, completely ignoring his question. "It sounds nice when you say it." Wait, why did I just say that?
He leaned forward in his chair as if ready to strike. "Answer the question," he warned.
I scrunched up my face and attempted to copy Ronan's scowl. "He has to get it to the Nova Corps or else we're doomed," I grumbled, mocking his serious tone. He did not look like he found my impersonation funny at all. In fact, he appeared to be contemplating hitting me.
I rolled my eyes at him and groaned dramatically. "You know… you're the one who tortured me earlier," I slurred, wiggling the ugly, bruised finger at him. "So if anyone has a right to be angry it's me….which I am by the way! This fucking pill…mmph…" I stopped, unable to finish the sentence. A warm wave of pleasure rolled through my body, making me mumble incoherently to myself.
"You should be grateful I attended to your injury," he accused sharply. I could feel his eyes burning into my face as I genuinely laughed out loud.
When I was done wiping away the tears of laughter, I tiredly looked at him and sighed. "You want me to be grateful that you fixed my finger which you broke in the first place," I said, not wanting to believe he could be serious.
He leaned back into his chair, his eyes hard and cold. "You will quickly learn that all actions have consequences, Terran," he sneered. I frowned as he called me Terran. It sounded so demeaning when he used it, like it was a disease or something. "Now tell me," he continued. "Who was with Star Lord when you last spoke with him?"
I had to think about that for a few seconds. It was becoming harder to form thoughts in my head. I had no idea what this pill was, but it was turning me into a slurring drunkard by the second. With genuine concentration I rubbed my eyes and tried to recall every strange moment of that night. My eyes popped open at the memory of something I wasn't soon to forget.
"A talking raccoon…a smiling tree," I mumbled. Ronan gave me an incredulous stare as I continued pondering to myself. "Oh and a green woman."
I started to play with the damp hair which had fallen into the crease of my breasts. They were pushed together from lying sideways, making them appear even larger and fuller than normal. I casually twirled the blonde strands around my finger, completely forgetting that Ronan was there watching me. Suddenly remembering where I was and how transparent my wet tank top had become, I looked up to find him openly staring at my chest. His eyes languidly made their way back up to my face, but it was too late. I had already caught him checking me out. With renewed fear I rolled onto my other side with my back to him, hoping he would leave me alone and let me sleep.
Feeling a renewed sense of vulnerability, I protectively curled my knees into my chest and closed my eyes. "I'm tired," I muttered under my breath. "And also, I could really use a tooth brush."
I heard his chair scrape against the metal floor as he abruptly stood up, his feet slamming angrily onto the floor. The room became uncomfortably quiet as he stood over me, watching me from behind. Despite trying to remain silent, I couldn't help but whimper as I heard quick movement behind me. Much to my relief it was only the sound of the door slamming shut. I had never been so happy to be alone.
When I woke up the next morning, there was a tooth brush and paste sitting on the table next to my bed.
I guess it wasn't a dream after all.