The Desired Victim

Chapter 39: These Murky Waters

The raging fire that had been ignited inside of me, the fire that had burned everything in its path, the fire that had consumed every part of me, it seemed to die out all at once. I felt as if my bones were caving in on themselves, and I felt completely drained, seconds after my violent rampage. It was a strange feeling, it was almost as if I had been submerged underwater, and now I had finally resurfaced. My skull was pounding with pain, and my vision was so unsteady that I saw small sparks of stars wherever I looked. Practically everything was hurting, and I felt blood escape from different parts of my body.

The amount of blood on the ship and the smell of it was overwhelming my senses. Vomit climbed its way up my throat, and my vision continued to spin madly. My head felt ready to explode.

I stared at Cassandra who was lying on the ground, barely alive. She gurgled and hissed softly like a slaughtered animal that had somehow escaped death. She was unable to make any other noise, she just twitched and jerked around on the ground like a fish out of water. Her once beautifully flawless face was now gruesome and unrecognizable, and I could hardly believe that I was capable of putting someone in such a state of being.

Regret and shame wasn't what I was feeling. I wasn't feeling proud or triumphant about what I had done, either. I felt simply numb.

I suddenly became aware of Emory, who had become too weak to stand or restrain me any longer. Cursing, he falls over to his side and collapses loudly on to the deck of the ship. He groans through his teeth in pain, and his face twists into a tormented grimace.

"Emory . . ." I cry softly. His eyes are barely open, and as panic shot down my spine, I realized that he could possibly lose consciousness. And perhaps he would never wake up. Just as I was about to go to Emory's side, Nicolas steps in between us and picks me up off of the ground as easily as if I were a sack of flour. I instantly recoil at his touch, and I start thrashing and wriggling in his grasp as frantically as my small body would allow.

"Let go of me, Nicolas!!" I screamed violently. "Put me down!! What are you doing?!? Stop!!!"

Nicolas doesn't answer me, but moves quickly across the floor of the ship. His swift movement causes the spinning sensation in my vision to feel even worse, and I swallow down bile in my throat. Most of my energy had been depleted, and I felt close to losing consciousness myself. I continued to squirm in Nicolas's arms, but it was useless. I might as well have been trying to pry myself away from the web of a spider.

Nicolas carries me to the side of the ship, and for a moment, I thought that he was going to dump my body overboard. He tosses me over the railing, and instead, I land inside of a small wooden rowboat. It was hanging, suspended in the air by ropes, right by the ship. The humid fog floated above the water below me in such a thick white blanket, that it was impossible to see the ocean's surface. Confused, I look up above at Nicolas, ignoring the stars that continued to dance around my vision spastically.

"You need to get to shore, princesa." Nicolas called down to me quickly. His expression was determined and steady, even with his current facial condition. "There's a small town close to the harbor, I'm sure the people there will help you!"

He was speaking so fast and in such a thick accent, that it was hard for my brain to process what was happening. My head hurt so badly that I could hardly even focus.

"What about Emory?!" I shout, wincing at the volume of my own voice. "I'm not leaving without him, he needs medical attention as well!!"

Nicolas furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled. And then his expression became darker, and he glared down at me stiffly. Even behind the atrocious bruises and apparent swelling of his face, I could still somehow make out parts of him that were familiar to me. I realized that he must have felt bitter towards Emory still, and that he still held a grudge. After watching Scourge get killed and after listening to my words, perhaps Nicolas wanted to redeem himself and genuinely help me this time. But he must've not felt strongly enough to help Emory too.