pg 44 - Rope burnMature

They sheath their swords at the sight of me cowering like a rabbit caught in its hole.

"Well, what do we have here... maybe a young woman torn from her warrior husband? Or perhaps a little girl separated from her mother? " the one man says, who has a crooked nose and nasty teeth.

The other two chortle at his snide comment, then one with blotchy red cheeks retorts with "Quite a pretty young thing to been left all alone, don't you think boys?"

The remainder of the three, a tall pale one with shoulder length black hair and terrible skin walks up to me. He takes a handful of my hair and pulls me up, tilting my face in his direction while pulling my arms behind my back.

"Too pretty for her own good dare I say it amigos. Too pretty to be cut down so quickly without a little fun first..."

The grotesque man runs his calloused fingers over my exposed collarbone and neck. It takes all my self-control to not completely skitter away from his touch for fear that I would rip my hair out my scalp in the process.

The man pushes me across to 'Red Cheeks' who grabs me by the neck and binds my wrists with a coil of rope I think he had taken from an abandoned home nearby during their raids. He continues to hold me around my throat as he uses his other hand to grab my chin and tilt it towards his beady eyes.

"This one looks a little different to the others. Not so wild and uncivilised but more refined." He pulls my face closer and breaths in the scent of my hair. "She's better than any of the others we've come across...I haven't seen a woman in a while let alone been comforted by one. Although, there is that wretched Malinalli but she has Cortés wrapped around her little finger. He would have our heads if we ever touched his Marina..."

I bite down on his hand, tasting blood in my mouth before he backhands me across the face. "Little savage...she might look a bit different but she still acts like the inferior little scum she is. These Aztecs don't know their proper place. Good thing we've got plans for her or I would have run her through with my sword by now."

My face stings and my head is reeling so hard from the blow that the room spins when I'm tossed over to 'Crooked Nose'. He uses one hand to hold my bound arms above my head as he runs the other down the one side of my body.

My skin feels like it's being pierced by thousands of needles through my thin dress as his insensitive hands take in the curve of my waist before stopping at my hip.

I hear the sound of desperate crying and then I realize it's coming from me as tears roll down my cheeks. I'm so fear stricken that I'm beginning to shut down, my mind not being able to process the traumatic experience I'm going to have to endure as I'm shoved to the ground and all three men take off their helmets and start to unbuckle their sword belts.

And that's when he walks in.

The End

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