La Terza Storia: La Fuga

The tumblers in the deadbolt clicked, the sound resonating through her lonely prison cell. The hinges whined softly as her cell door cracked open. The prisoner stared into the inky dark of the room.

"So, he's finally decided," she said blankly as she resigned herself to her fate. Worst-case scenario, they doomed her to rot in this grimy prison.

A silent figure entered the room, cloaked in a sweeping black cape. She assumed it was a man based on the figure's towering height. His face was obscured beneath a white mask. Black eyes holes revealed nothing of the character behind. He gestured for her to exit, and she complied, wordlessly. Any resistance she could have mustered would have ultimately been futile. Were she able to dispatch her escort, there were many other Famiglia members left. She couldn't hope to fight them all.

They walked for quite some time. The air grew cooler, crisper as they left the building, traversing the empty thoroughfares of Regalo. The soles of her boots scraped against the brickwork of the roads. Her escort chose a meandering path that cut through narrow alleyways. She could taste the familiar brine in the air that heralded the approaching wharfs. Her mind recoiled in confusion, but she continued to follow in silence.

"Here is where I will leave you," the masked man said. "You will find a boat for passage into the bay. Il Diavolo awaits you there. Leave and do not return."

"Why are you helping me?" Amica asked. Suspicion tugged at her mind. Any hope of escape was too convenient.

"Consider me a friend of the family. You are not wanted here. Keep a low profile from this day forward, and no one will come for you," he said.

"I see. Well, if this turns out to be a trap, you'll pay. Don't think that mask keeps you safe. Not for a moment. I will find you, and you'll take a cozy nap with the sharks," she warned lowly.

"I'm not doing this for you, girl. Now, leave," he ordered coldly, and disappeared into the dark alley.

She stood alone in the darkened alleyway. Few options left available to her. Besides pursuing escape, all that was left would be to relinquish herself back to the authority of the Famiglia Arcana, which wasn't much of an option at all. Her chances of escape were not promising. Chances were favorable that the Arcana Famiglia would recover their prisoner as soon as dawn broke. It was near impossible to sail the Il Diavolo del Mare without a full complement of able-bodied, experienced sailors. Alone, she would not make it out the bay. Her whole situation stunk of treachery.

With hesitation weighting her steps, she crept towards the empty wharf. The deserted harbor was an expansive network of wooden walkways, with little to no cover available. She did her best to obscure herself amongst the incoming freight. Her heart jumped into her throat with every odd sound, pounding in anticipation of discovery. Numerous dinghies floated in the uninhabited marina.

"Which one of you are mine?" she wondered to the empty boats. It would not matter which she took. Her lengthy criminal activities compounded with her escape made it so an action as frivolous as theft would really impact the intensity of her punishment. She selected a sturdy rowboat, with heavy oaken oars that rested at the bottom.

She bent down to unravel its tie-down, and just as she was about to climb in, a smooth voice invaded the desolate harbor. "Leaving so soon, Bambina?"

"Debito…" Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Of course, her escape was too good to be true. Seemingly frozen in place, she could only watch his leisurely approach. His footfalls thudding against the wooden wharf echoed into the night.

"Surely, that can't be true. You've only just arrived, and you wouldn't want to disappoint Papa. Now, just come along, and this can be our little secret," he said. Debito was a mere few feet from her, before she finally recovered her faculties enough to stand.

"I can't," she whispered. Even after her discovery, she could not bear to raise her voice.

"Somehow, I knew you wouldn't make this easy on me," he said as his hand shot out towards her wrist, capturing it in a firm, yet somehow gentle hold.

The gesture awakened a part of her that diminished in her short incarceration. How quickly a cage could tame such a wild creature was a mystery to her, but her fighting spirit returned to her in a rush. She snatched her wrist from his firm grasp, countering with a quick jab to his jaw. His hand came up to his face and he rubbed the newly forming bruise, a grin spreading across his mouth.

He lunged at her, and blocked her swift kick with his forearm. His momentum pushed her backwards, and he pinned her shoulders against a wall of boxes.

"Now, Bambina, be a good girl, and come along quietly. I don't like to play so rough with beautiful women," Debito said. She struggled fruitlessly against his rough grasp. She had no other choice. She had to break yet another promise to her father.

"Bachanalia," she whispered, and Debito was bathed in the magenta glow of the stigmata encased in her left eye.

Images flowed across her mind's eye, his heart's deepest desires and longings. An unexpected scene dominated her mind, called to her in pining desperation.

His soft kisses of adoration trailed down a woman's throat, the soft murmurs of his devotion. His fingers lovingly entwined in her flowing chestnut hair. A small child wrapped in his loving embrace, and the soft, cooing sounds of his voice that stilled her plaintive cries.

A family of my own. To love. To hold. To protect.

Debito's hold relaxed on her arms, and a vacant expression settled across his dark, handsome features. She remained frozen in his grasp, rigid with shock. She felt dirty. She felt wrong to have peered into his precious and private thoughts. Wrong, to twist and manipulate an object of such beauty. Wrong, because she saw her own desires reflected in his. The snowy-haired man before her carried himself with all the playful trappings of a philandering rogue, but she was a fool. She was a shortsighted fool incapable of seeing the truth behind his lies.

"Debito," she whispered his name sadly, a strange emptiness coursed through her veins. "I have to go."

"You have to go," he parroted back in a monotonous voice. She reached up and pulled his hands from her shoulders. They hung limply at his sides. He didn't resist, he didn't move. He was puppet, a plaything for Il Diavolo, her powerful Arcana.

"Yes. Don't follow me anymore," Amica said as she dropped into the rowboat.

"I will wait for you. La mia Serafina. I will always wait for you." The hollowness in his voice, in contrast with the sanctity in his confession, made her want to vomit. Even if it was a confession not meant for her. She manned the oars, as quickly as she could. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and this place as she was capable of.

The sun crept over the sea's flat horizon when she finally reached her mighty Man-of-war, Il Diavolo del Mare. To her total shock, she heard the scrape of leather boots mulling around the deck. She carefully climbed the rope ladder, and peered over the railings of the quarterdeck. Her first mate was lazily reclined against boxes on the starboard side, deep in slumber. At the sight of the African pirate, she was overcome with relief. She clambered over the edge of the railing and collapsed in a mixture of joy and exhaustion. The hollow thud of her impact on the wooden deck startled him awake.

"Oi, look alive, ma' boys. Our lady's just returned ta us," he announced in his smooth tropical accent. Amica let out a heavy sigh. It was a voice she thought to never hear again.

"Azaf, you're sure a sight for sore eyes. Let's get out here," Amica mumbled weakly into the deck.

"O'course, mi'lady captain," he said as he helped her to her feet. "Ya heard our lady! Raise the anchor, boys. Set a course for home."

A/N: Third chapter is two days! I'm on a roll here. I really like this story so far, and I hope that you guys do too! Thanks for ready!

I think I'll start work on the next chapter.

3.15.14