THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE IN OOC
Darkness had long since claimed the sky as a chorus of heavy footsteps trampled rotting planks. Wind swept harshly through Jacob’s hair and sent it sprawling in all directions, but in his haste he made no effort to tame it. His arms ached too, and his back screamed for relief. He wanted to put this load down. He wanted this night to be over. He wanted to have a drink and go to sleep. Instead he continued the walk, eyes fixed steadily on what was in front of him. Behind him and to his side he could hear the panting of the crew; could feel the heat that their bodies radiated upon his skin. They were sweaty, worn out and tired, but beneath all of that they were smug. Every time the muffled voice of their prize called out he sensed them crack smiles and saw them nudge one another. Occasionally Jacob would receive one of those nudges, but he didn't have the energy to respond.
"Nearly there, princess."
Jacob looked up to see Smith gently caressing the fabric over her head, then leaning in and giving it a kiss. Beneath that fabric the head of a young woman shook violently in an attempt to avoid the affection. Jacob heard her scream again, this time louder. Her limbs struggled to break free from the crew’s grip but her desperate attempts at freedom were cut short by a foot in the side. She whimpered. Jacob’s mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he though better. Arguing with this crew was not wise. They were his friends, yes, but where a young woman was involved they were also known to be savage.
They reached the deck without hearing another scream. One by one crew members began to let the limbs in their hands fall to the floor with a dull thud. Jacob let the wrist that he held fall too, grimacing at the sobbing of the woman it belonged to. His hands reached out and found the railing behind him so he took it in his grasp and leant against it for a while. The deck itself was pitch black, illuminated only by the orange light of the city behind them. Faces were unidentifiable in the darkness, so no one spoke. They simply worked. Her arms were tied first and this was done without protest, then her legs. There was faint laughter as she was hauled off the ground and Jacob followed alongside the men who dragged her below decks.
"Don't worry princess, you'll be just fine." One of the crew said, laughing and slapping the woman’s arse.
It was impossible to tell who it was. The hallway that they walked down was lit - albeit dimly- yet the men faced away from Jacob. He was sure it was Smith. As they walked around a corner Jacob tried to get a better view with no luck. What did it matter? It wasn't long before they reached an open door and, without hesitation, threw the woman inside and slammed the door behind her, laughing all the while. Her head was still shrouded in cloth; her arms and legs still bound. The fall would have been painful, but once the door was locked the crew seemed to lose interest and pushed past Jacob, firmly clapping him on the shoulder and merrily bellowing his name. It took a minute before their voices dissipated, leaving only the sound of waves gently rocking the hull. With a sigh Jacob moved towards the door and leant against the wall opposite, staring at the polished wood and wondering what lay beyond. During the kidnapping he had not seen her face, not even a mere glimpse. Maybe she was pretty.
Darkness had long since claimed the sky as a chorus of heavy footsteps trampled rotting planks. Wind swept harshly through Jacob’s hair and sent it sprawling in all directions, but in his haste he made no effort to tame it. His arms ached too, and his back screamed for relief. He wanted to put this load down. He wanted this night to be over. He wanted to have a drink and go to sleep. Instead he continued the walk, eyes fixed steadily on what was in front of him. Behind him and to his side he could hear the panting of the crew; could feel the heat that their bodies radiated upon his skin. They were sweaty, worn out and tired, but beneath all of that they were smug. Every time the muffled voice of their prize called out he sensed them crack smiles and saw them nudge one another. Occasionally Jacob would receive one of those nudges, but he didn't have the energy to respond.
"Nearly there, princess."
Jacob looked up to see Smith gently caressing the fabric over her head, then leaning in and giving it a kiss. Beneath that fabric the head of a young woman shook violently in an attempt to avoid the affection. Jacob heard her scream again, this time louder. Her limbs struggled to break free from the crew’s grip but her desperate attempts at freedom were cut short by a foot in the side. She whimpered. Jacob’s mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he though better. Arguing with this crew was not wise. They were his friends, yes, but where a young woman was involved they were also known to be savage.
They reached the deck without hearing another scream. One by one crew members began to let the limbs in their hands fall to the floor with a dull thud. Jacob let the wrist that he held fall too, grimacing at the sobbing of the woman it belonged to. His hands reached out and found the railing behind him so he took it in his grasp and leant against it for a while. The deck itself was pitch black, illuminated only by the orange light of the city behind them. Faces were unidentifiable in the darkness, so no one spoke. They simply worked. Her arms were tied first and this was done without protest, then her legs. There was faint laughter as she was hauled off the ground and Jacob followed alongside the men who dragged her below decks.
"Don't worry princess, you'll be just fine." One of the crew said, laughing and slapping the woman’s arse.
It was impossible to tell who it was. The hallway that they walked down was lit - albeit dimly- yet the men faced away from Jacob. He was sure it was Smith. As they walked around a corner Jacob tried to get a better view with no luck. What did it matter? It wasn't long before they reached an open door and, without hesitation, threw the woman inside and slammed the door behind her, laughing all the while. Her head was still shrouded in cloth; her arms and legs still bound. The fall would have been painful, but once the door was locked the crew seemed to lose interest and pushed past Jacob, firmly clapping him on the shoulder and merrily bellowing his name. It took a minute before their voices dissipated, leaving only the sound of waves gently rocking the hull. With a sigh Jacob moved towards the door and leant against the wall opposite, staring at the polished wood and wondering what lay beyond. During the kidnapping he had not seen her face, not even a mere glimpse. Maybe she was pretty.