Fractured Bonds

Chapter 1, Kanika: Before she opened her eyes, the creaking and groans told Kanika she was on a ship that sailed the cracks. Her body ached, not just hurt but screamed. Afraid to open her eyes, she remembered the horror that befell her ship, the Resolute, and how many died before her. Tears fell from her closed eyes over the death of her father and the sailors she considered her family. They mixed with the bilge water as they dripped from her filthy cheeks. f**k me, she thought. Water rushed over her body, which meant the ship sank or she was in the hold, the lowest level of the craft, sitting in the filth that needed to be pumped out. The saltwater stung the lower part of her body. She knew from the flair of pain that her body had been violated. She was unsure how many times, but a raw pain burned inside her in more ways than one. Her shoulders throbbed, arms held outstretched over her head by crude shackles. Afraid to move, she contemplated a possible way of escape from this hell. A soft whisper of sound and the stench of unwashed bodies compounded her fears. Risking all, she willed her eyes open, able to clearly see out of only one—her left eye would not follow her command and stayed shut. With the smallest of movements, she scanned the hold. Bodies lay shackled in cells, men and women both stripped, with the women separated. She was a captive in the hold of a slaver’s ship. A woman’s soft voice whispered to her, “They’ll be changin’ the watch soon. That’s when the guards ‘ill be down ta take care of their needs. Best ta stay layin’ down, and sleepin’ perchance they’ll be passin’ ya by. Ya can hear them before they come.” Kanika struggled to find who spoke, all she really wanted was to be free of the filth and cage she had been locked in. Killing each of the crew on the ship would be a bonus. “Who are you?” she whispered without ever seeing the source of the voice. “People call me Lizzie. I’m a high priestess of Anshika—” “You’re a witch.” She spit through her teeth. “—Goddess of the Moons. I’ve been called such yeah.” She had heard of such but never met one, intrigued she forced her head around to get a glimpse of the woman in the adjoining cell. What she found didn’t impress her much, the tiny woman seemed covered in her own filth. “They did this to you because you are a witch?” Kanika asked. “I’ve been here longer than most, they can’t sell me, most people fear me. The few that didn’t fear me came to rape me, this deters ‘em.” “Can’t you call your magic down and destroy them all?” Kanika returned to her relatively comfortable position on her side facing away from Lizzie. “It doesn’t work like that, but the all-seeing Anshika has foretold your comin’. Thin’s are about to change. The awakenin’ is about to happen.” “Sounds like s**t to me. You know anything useful?” Kanika laid her head down, trying to decide the best way out of this mess. “I know a great many thin’s—” before she finished her thought, the eight bells rang out clear from above, and the tread of heavy footfalls echoed down the ladderway. “They be comin’ now. Mind yourself…” The witch didn’t take time to add more. Kanika expected more attackers, she plainly made out a single pair of feet descending the wooden ladder at the head of the compartment. The slaver’s bare feet sloshed in the putrid water. How any man could get a hard-on in these conditions was beyond her. The water had to be up to his ankles, filled with the refuse from the human cargo. A clanking sound announced the guard’s approach, it must have been the key. The asshole taunted the female captives with the sound ringing through the fetid space. If Kanika found an opportunity, she would kill the man with that key, or any other weapon available. For some reason, the witch in the cell next started chanting. That would get old quickly. The footfalls stopped, Kanika grew sure, right outside her cell. Key scraped against metal as the key was inserted into the lock. The cell door protested movement, layers of rust coated the hinges, nearly binding their movement. Before he touched her, she felt his presence standing over her. The sound of rough hands rubbing on cloth reached her ears. Eyes closed she only guessed what horrors the monster did over her body. Her stomach turned at the thought of such garbage so near to her and yet still out of reach. Her mind shrieked while she forced her body to remain still. The chanting in the cell next to her grew louder, the tempo increasing the closer the creature slumped over Kanika. Hands like sharkskin grabbed her ankles. She wanted to recoil, to lash out with every fiber in her body, yet she quieted her mind and remained limp. She knew some bastards like their victims to fight back. She wouldn’t give the dickbiter the pleasure of fighting. Prepared for the worst, she forced her mind calmer despite the chanting, yet the witch continued to a crescendo. Kanika was flipped on her back, her legs forced wide. The ship took a sudden lurch when a massive wave struck the port side, causing the ship to roll to the starboard. Kanika’s assailant had been bent over her body, his pants down around his knees. Unable to compensate for the sudden movement and the loss of stability, he pitched over, landing on top of Kanika. The weight of the man knocked the wind from her, causing her ploy of unconsciousness to fail. The surprise became much greater for the sailor. Kanika used the change provided her to go on the attack. Even with muscles sore from the abuse she’d suffered from the likes of the ass on top of her, she forced herself to attack. Her legs wrapped around the man’s waist, and she used every ounce of her remaining strength to lock her ankles and crush the wind from him. His face close to hers, he shouted, “b***h, stop it!” She fought back the vomit from the stench of the man’s breath. His howl briefly drowned out the chanting thumping in Kanika’s head. She smashed her forehead into the man’s nose. Blood burst from his broken nose, splashing down his face, but his bad day was getting worse. His eyes crossed, on the verge of unconsciousness. With a crunch of her abdomen, she lifted his throat closer to her mouth. Needing him quiet or dead, like a trapped animal, she used the only weapons left to her. Mouth wide, she sank her teeth into the exposed flesh of the man’s throat. A soft squeak escaped his lips when her jaws locked on his windpipe, she felt the bones and cartilage crunch under her might. Forced to fight for his life, he pummeled her head with blows from his fists, but it was too late for him—his hyoid bone and larynx crushed. In a fit of rage, her head jerked and ripped his voice box from his throat. Blood sprayed her naked body, his squeak became a gurgle while he tried to speak, his life’s blood emptied first onto Kanika then filled her cell. His body eventually went limp between her legs before he dropped on her chest. She spat the remains of his neck into the water and kicked his corpse off her. The thought of what she had done struck her; she vomited. Breathing deeply, she tried to think clearly. Her head throbbed with pain, the rush of adrenaline the only thing that was keeping her going. An inspection of the cell and she realized the key remained in the cell door. She might’ve killed her attacker, but her means of escape might as well be across the crack from where she stared at it. The cell door swung open with the key lodged in the lock. “Damn it,” she cursed softly under her breath, body slumping in disappointment. “Check his neck, the keys for the shackles should be around his neck,” Lizzie whispered. “Hurry, more might come at any time.” Kanika shot her eye to the hatch where the dead man entered. A shot of fear ran through her soul. She swore as the sound of footsteps approached overhead, walking towards the ladder. Over her lifetime she had spent years running the decks barefoot. With practice, her toes became flexible. She now used them to push back the blood-soaked cloth of the sailor’s shirt, where she found a cord tied around his neck. The footsteps returned, echoing through the space. Her total concentration on the cord, she lost track of her surroundings and what happened beyond her little world of the cage. The occupants of the pen across the narrow path followed her progress intently. “Hurry!” the witch in the next cage hissed and began softly chanting again. Kanika found the key. She would chew the man’s head off if she could reach it. The cord, soaked in blood, made it hard to grip with her toes. Taking the utmost care, she lifted the strap from the man’s neck. The hatch opened. Sure she would be caught before she freed her hands, two feet appeared on the top step and stopped. Laughter and jokes were interchanged from above. The key free of the corpse, Kanika raised her feet over her head and handed herself the key. There arose a collective sigh once she grasped the key in her hand. The entire cargo hold had held their breath watching her movements. With a single click, her right wrist became free. With help from the chain, she set herself upright and unraveled the bindings from the crossbars of the cage. Before she finished, the feet on the ladder continued down the steps, and the hatch closed. The shackles now free of the bars, Kanika held a ready weapon. She’d only a few moments to devise her attack. She crept aft, best she could, considering the damage to her body. Once around the first corner, she waited. Her swing would need to be timed flawlessly, or all would be lost. The approaching slaver would raise the alarm before she killed him. The approaching man hesitated in shock when he found his dead comrade sloshing about on the deck. Before he had a chance to think, Kanika bolted from around the corner, the manacle on the chain’s ends a perfect weight to swing as a weapon. The added force from the whip of the chain crushed into the man’s head, sending four teeth and a spray of blood flying into the cell. He dropped like a keg of nails. Kanika wanted no chance of his returning to fight again. She beat his head with the shackle until gray matter showed through the bloody hair and bone. Satisfied he was dead, she reached for the key in her cell door. More men might come at any moment, she needed to free as many as possible and take the ship. The first rescue was the s**t-covered witch in the cell next to her. Unsure if the chant helped her, she felt it was the best she could do. “You must free the men first, as quietly as possible. We’ll have a chance with more help,” Kanika told Lizzie as she unlocked her. As much as Kanika wanted to free the few women, most looked unready to fight. They hid cowering in their cells as best as their chains would allow. The witch took off to release as many as she could. The men were not individually chained. They had rings attached to both wrists, and a chain was run through them before it attached to the deck, effectively pinning them on their backs. Once the first lock clanked opened, ten men were freed. While the witch ran off to free the others, Kanika searched the two corpses in her cell. Unfortunately for the cargo, the slavers were smart enough not to bring weapons into the hold when they came to rape their captives. She had freed a small army and had no way to arm them. “s**t,” she whispered to herself. She inspected the bodies one last time, hoping to find anything that might be used as a weapon and found nothing. At least we can tell them apart from us. They are dressed, we are all nude. She listened as the freed men plotted their next move. Before they got the lot of them killed, she headed for the ladder to stop any premature attack. She arrived just in time, the first batch of men approached her blood-drenched body sitting on the steps.