Caroline had no way to confirm, but she suspected there were huge bruises on her neck. She couldn't move her head without pain and when she ran it along the side of her throat, it felt sensitively swollen. Her sneakers were still completely soaked and her clothes clung damply to her body.

She was grateful for the windproof jacket she had always carried on the ship, which now provided a tiny bit of warmth. She missed her shoulder bag. All the prisoners had been stripped of the items they had carried. She could have used the small nail scissors in her make-up bag.

She looked at her bound wrists and went back to the place at the bottom next to the knot. The ring attaching her anklet to the wall had apparently been put in place in a hurry, or at least not very carefully. One edge on the metal plate underneath was sticking out a little. It wasn't sharp directly, but it was rough, and the corner at the end was sharp enough.

One fibre after another came loose. If only it didn't hurt so terribly. The ropes were tied tightly, so the skin was cracking and beginning to water from the movements. Not much longer and she would bleed.

Tears came to her eyes and she drew her eyebrows together so desperately that the steep wrinkle on her forehead would never smooth out again.

She looked from her wrists a little further down her arm. A small red crescent was emblazoned on the soft inside. To all appearances, the woman had really cut her. Had she rubbed blood between her fingertips? What the fuck was going on here, anyway?

Organ traffickers came to her mind. Then the comment about her age would also make sense. No, at least one more prisoner didn't fit into the organ traffickers' prey pattern. It just didn't make sense! Even if it didn't matter in the slightest, Caroline felt slightly offended. Thirty-one was not old. With her face contorted in pain, she set about reaming her bondage again.

The female kidnapper had appeared once, offering toiletries and bringing water. So they must have been on the road for a few hours when something changed almost imperceptibly. The engines had become quieter and quieter and were suddenly roaring at full power. The direction of travel also seemed to have changed, although Caroline could not be sure because of the slow acceleration.

A loud crash echoed through the vehicle, coupled with a violent jolt that made her cry out. The others also jumped up and looked around fearfully. Isy and a curvy girl with black frizzy hair pressed themselves tightly against the wall as if to melt into it.

The sudden movement, painful as it was to their battered wrists, had further ripped open the crumbling part of the rope so that it was only hanging together by a few thin threads. If Caroline could bring herself to jerk her wrists apart, it would surely snap. All that was needed now was a situation in which free hands would be of use to her. Perhaps, after the chains were loosened, she would be left alone for a while? Maybe she could ...

The ugly squeak of the metal door interrupted her meagre escape plans. She made sure to keep the reamed part of the rope covered as the kidnappers entered the room.

The woman came in first. Her black hair was tied in a severe knot, from which some curls had meanwhile come loose. Her expression was emotionless as before. Caroline's heart skipped a beat as the predator who had addressed Isy on the ship entered. Unlike his predecessor, he had to duck his head at that. Following him was an even larger man who seemed to have stepped out of an action movie. His blond hair was cut short. He wore a muscle shirt, cargo trousers and combat boots.

The contrast between the three figures was enormous and, as they were standing right next to each other, caught the eye. The woman was still wearing black uniform-like clothing. The black-haired psychopath had changed and was dressed in a brown suit, even with a waistcoat. The only thing missing was a hat and walking stick to complete the vintage look.

The main difference between the three, however, was their body language. The psycho predator sauntered a few steps into the room, clearly enjoying the situation, while the woman remained motionless beside the door. Mr America crossed his arms impatiently and briskly took stock of the prisoners.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The psycho paused meaningfully. "Welcome to THE island!" He spread his arms and grinned broadly. "We hope you had a pleasant journey."

Oh yes, he enjoyed that. She would keep the nickname. No one dared make a sound.

"Now you will be taken to your new quarters. After we remove the chains, please line up and follow us. There will be no need to speak and anyone who tries to run away will be severely punished." He had stopped at one of the young girls, squatted down and looked directly at her. "I'm not saying you shouldn't try, though!"

Caroline wanted to beat the fake fatherly smile off his face. To her surprise, Mr America didn't seem thrilled with Psycho's demeanour either. He rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Can we get it over with then?"

He seemed to want to say more, but refrained at the last moment.

Psycho rose, the smile on his face a shade wider. "Take it easy, my young friend."

Caroline wondered at the salutation. There didn't seem to be any significant age difference between them. If anything, she would have guessed Psycho to be in his early thirties and Mr America to be close to forty.

"Where will we end up if we stop celebrating the finer things in life? Our society is eight members richer. Let's give them a proper welcome." Psycho added in an almost gushing mood.

Society? What society? In the sense of secret club? Had they ended up in an S&M establishment or even in some kind of hostel situation? The memory of the torture horror she hadn't finished watching made her shudder. Or did she mean a classic society after all? But one with abducted members?

She could see from the faces of her fellow prisoners that their thoughts were similarly swirling. She wanted nothing more than to embrace the terrified Isy. To lie to her that everything would be all right. Her eyes met and Caroline looked at her encouragingly.

Mr Psycho was satisfied with his performance, turned around and handed over command to Mr America with a wave. He, together with the woman, unfastened the chains and arranged the prisoners in rows. Isy was at the front, Caroline was assigned place number five by Mr Amerika. One by one they crossed the high threshold, followed the woman through a long corridor, climbed through two round hatches before stopping at a metal ladder.

It really is a submarine! Until the very end, Caroline had doubted. What means and what influence did the kidnappers' organisation have to possess a vehicle that was otherwise only used by governments for war purposes or espionage?

Psycho was already waiting for them and the woman quickly climbed the ladder. She turned the wheel and pushed the access hatch upwards with one hand. The ease with which she managed this shocked Caroline to the core. Even if she had been purely muscular, at least a minimal effort should have been apparent. She had disappeared through the opening and a hook on a rope landed at her feet.

"Who wants to go first?" asked Mr Psycho emphatically cheerfully.

It was a rhetorical question, the corridor was so narrow that they still continued to line up. He pulled Isy towards him by her bound hands, fastened the hook to her wrists and placed her directly in front of the ladder. His hand remained on Isy's arms longer than necessary.

The girl was pulled upwards, cried out in shock and disappeared through the hatch. It must have been too inconvenient for her captors to untie her bonds for the climb and re-tie them at the top. They were unloaded like luggage. It was perfect for Caroline. This way she could perhaps hide the fact that she had almost freed her hands. She just had to manage not to put too much tension on the broken part. Otherwise it was likely that the rope would break.

When it was her turn, she grabbed the hook in one swift movement. "I'm very capable of doing this on my own. No need to touch me."

She looked Mr Psycho straight in the eye and slid the hook through the restraints without looking. She left out the broken lower part. It should hold if she clung tight to the hook in addition.

"Don't worry." He took a step closer and his dark eyes were only inches from hers. "I have no intention of touching you."

She swallowed hard and knew in that moment that she had to do everything she could to protect Isy. Regardless of where they were taken: The bastard had it in for her friend.

Clutching the hook with all her might, the jerk didn't seem as violent to her as it had seemed when she watched. She managed to hold on tightly and, after a gentle turn, landed on a jetty without losing her balance. The pain in her wrists was sharp but bearable. She didn't dare look, but was sure that by now blood was oozing from under the ropes.

The mild night wind blew a strand of hair into her face. She absently brushed it aside and sought out Isy's gaze, but it was riveted by something else. With her mouth open, the girl stared in the direction opposite the submarine. Caroline turned her back on the black sea and followed the others' gazes. It took a moment before she realised what she was seeing. Her mouth dropped open.

They were standing on the jetty of a small harbour, separated from a village, no, a town, by a high thick wall. Lights burned sporadically in houses and street lamps at regular intervals, giving a clear picture of the winding streets and city rings despite the deep night.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The town had been built up the hill and ended at the cliffs that sloped steeply down to the sea at the sides. On the summit, more than five hundred feet above sea level, perched a massive castle. Despite the distance, Caroline could make out defences alongside playful features such as bay windows and tapering towers. At least the defence corridors and classic crenellations of a castle stood out clearly against the starry night sky.

As if Neuschwanstein and Edinburgh Castle had made a beautiful tropical baby. The thought was so present that Caroline felt like laughing for a moment.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Mr Psycho's oily voice snapped her back to reality. With an elegant leap, he negotiated the scant ten feet from the boat onto the jetty and looked proudly up at the castle. In a forced calm Caroline made another mental note to herself.

"Home at last!" exclaimed a lanky youthful man she had not yet seen. He deftly unloaded the submarine with the help of a small crane and had already stacked almost a dozen boxes on the jetty. He was about to disappear into the interior of the submarine, but stepped aside at the last moment to make room for Mr Amerika. The young man was one of the hijackers, but seemed to be lower in rank.

Mr America patted him on the shoulders with a smile. "Took us long enough." He stretched extensively. "What do you have in mind first?" he asked him.

"Eat!" the boy grinned back. "As God is my witness, I missed Henry's cooking more than anything!"

"Oh come on, the protein bars weren't that disgusting after all," the woman from the dock now interjected with a wry grin.

"You're welcome to stick with it," the boy grinned and disappeared into the opening of the submarine in one leap.

Caroline winced. Automatically she assumed he would hurt himself in the jump. She heard no cry of pain. The special skills seemed to be common to all her captors. She tried hard to breathe calmly and not let herself be carried away by whirlwinds of thoughts.

"Listen up!" The woman had turned back to them and was pointing upwards. "Our destination is the castle. That's two miles as the crow flies, six hundred feet of elevation, about thirty stairs, which means about two hours of walking in your condition. No one stays behind!"

Not one dared ask what would happen if they did.

"Does anyone need water?"

Caroline spoke up and the woman pressed a small plastic bottle with still water into her hand. Now Isy, the older man whose name Caroline had forgotten again, and one of the girls also dared to ask, too.

A tower clock in the town chimed just before they set off. Isy tried to move closer to Caroline and managed to cheat her way back three positions. They followed the woman in lead, Mr America bringing up the rear and Mr Psycho walking alongside them as he pleased. Preferably a short distance behind Isy. She heard the bell one more time after they had crossed the quiet harbour and climbed steep stairs in the first ring of the city.

It quickly became apparent who were the weakest links in the chain. Two of the teenagers were already panting after the first few steps, ensuring that their progress was sluggish. The two had obviously not had an easy past. Puncture marks on the bends of their arms and between their toes indicated heavy drug abuse. They had not joined in the short conversations, as if they did not care why they had been taken. From the chills and sudden sweats that plagued them both, Caroline suspected that withdrawal had only recently set in.

It did not bother Caroline that their progress was slow. She looked around, taking in the surroundings carefully. When would it make sense to free her hands? As long as even one of the kidnappers was nearby, any attempt to escape would be pointless.

They had spread out somewhat due to the difference in speed, but there was still less than three hundred feet between them and the impatiently female kidnapper, rushing ahead. Mr America had fallen so far behind with the two junkies that she didn't spot him around the last bend.

If this was an island, as Mr Psycho had announced, every step away from the harbour would make escape less likely. Apart from that, Caroline was sure that neither Isy nor she alone would be able to navigate one of the sailing ships, motorboats, let alone the submarine. Escape was out of the question at the moment without the right accomplices.

Mr Psycho walked beside Isy and began to talk quietly to her. It made Caroline nervous how close he leaned to her. The moment he put his arm around her friend, Caroline gritted her teeth and pulled her wrists apart with a suppressed groan. The crumbly rope finally snapped in two. Carefully, she loosened the blood-soaked nooses enough so that they were still around her hands but could be slipped off in seconds.

The need became overwhelming to do something about the hand that slid further and further down Isy's back and finally came to rest on her buttocks. The girl turned aside, but Mr Psycho grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and forcibly pulled her back in.

That's enough! Caroline didn't know what kind of skills she had to fight against, but she would do something. The scene caused her physical pain.

They had just passed the second city wall and were crossing a shallow canal on a narrow bridge. It flowed slowly barely twenty feet below them and the steeply sloping embankment was overgrown with smaller plants. A rough plan formed in her head and her gut instinct took over.

Without slowing her pace, she bent down and picked up a palm-sized stone. She didn't manage to hide it completely, but with a bit of luck it wouldn't be noticeable. She accelerated, overtook the man in front of her and when she was a few inches away from Isy and the perverted pig, she addressed him.

"Why don't you find someone in your weight class?" Her voice sounded calm. It wasn't the most brilliant insult that had ever occurred to her, but it served its purpose. He stopped, let go of Isy and turned to her, smiling.

"And what are you going to do about it?" He turned back to Isy, who took a step back in disgust and fear. "My new friend and I find it ..."

Caroline wouldn't let him finish the sentence. In one fluid movement she slipped off the loose shackles, turned her torso slightly and lashed out with the stone in her hand.

She had never fought anyone in her life, but she had been a passable handball player in her schooldays. When she threw, she threw unerringly and with a hardness that had often given her teammates bruises and some bloody noses. This time she did not throw a soft ball.

He noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, turned his head towards her and looked so shocked for a moment that it seemed almost ridiculous. When he reacted and tried to duck with phenomenal speed, it was too late. The stone hit him full force on the forehead above his left eye and his head was thrown backwards. He lost his balance and landed on his backside. Caro heard the young fellow prisoner behind her cry out in fright.

The look was murderous with which Mr Psycho looked at her with his eye covered in blood. He grabbed his forehead with his left hand and looked briefly at the red on it, as if completely amazed that he was able to bleed. Caroline didn't know what she had expected, but she was relieved they could be wounded. The thought struck her as silly and threatening at the same time.

What can bleed can also die.

She couldn't remember if the quote was from a book or a film, but it gave her hope. If she could get him to come a little further into the middle of the bridge with her...

In one effortless movement he stood up again and fixed his burning eyes on Caroline.

"That was a mistake." His voice was low, barely a hissing whisper.

He took a step towards her and she leapt in one bound onto the low wall that lined the bridge, only to get a few feet further ... What she hadn't considered was the moss. Her feet slipped away as if on soft soap. She fell, hit her shoulder hard on the embankment, slid down and rolled over a few times before finally landing with her back in the water. It drove the air out of her lungs and the pain exploded glaringly before her eyes.

She frantically scrambled to her feet, her gaze fixed upwards. He followed her deftly and was already halfway down the slope when she stood unsteadily on both feet again. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Her poor plan had been to get further into the middle of the bridge, take the fall together with him and with a bit of luck the impact on the rocks in the shallow water would have ...

The clack of some stones rolling down interrupted her thought. She stalked under the bridge in the direction of the river to gain time.

"As if you could hide from me!"

She heard his voice echoing to her. The acoustics of the bridge walls amplified the cruelty in it.

"I should have just thrown you into the sea. Fortunately, a mistake easily corrected."

In her mind's eye, she saw him grinning sadistically at the last words. She heard a splash behind her. As she wheeled around in panic, she slipped on the slimy boulders and landed in the freezing water again. With her hands and feet she tried to find a firm grip, but to make matters worse, she tore her forearm open on something sharp and screamed in pain.

The wound was certainly deep, but she wasted no time looking at it. She tried to retrieve the pointy thing and gasped when she got hold of the stick. When she pulled on it, she realised from the shape that it was an old arrow. Except that the shaft was not wood, but metal, like the tip. If only it could be pulled completely out of the pile of stones!

She was brutally grabbed by the neck from behind and yanked up. Mr Psycho turned her around and grabbed her by the throat with his free hand. Her wet hair was stuck to her face and she had nothing to defend herself.

"Déjà vu, chérie!" he whispered. There was no longer a grin on his face. His bloody eyebrows had drawn together in anger and Caroline knew he was going to kill her now. She hoped he did it quickly.

"Rebekka was right about one thing though. It would be a shame," he lifted her bleeding arm, "to waste this."

Caroline's brain just had a chance to assign Rebekka's name before it froze. Mr Psycho approached her face and for a brief moment it looked as if he wanted to kiss her. Then his mouth opened wider, lowered and tore at her throat.

She wanted to scream out the horrific pain, the disbelief, but her voice failed. A weak gasp was all she could manage. Her brain switched to automatic and she felt her free hand beat senseless on the body in front of her.

There were only seconds left. Only seconds left to save Isy from this monster. In a last burst of strength, she leaned backwards with all her might, clutching his left knee with her legs at the same time, and pulled. The stones were almost all ground round by the steady flow and lay wobbly on top of each other. With any luck ...

She felt him lose his balance and disengage from her neck. He let go, struggling to regain his balance, and Caroline fell helplessly backwards. The moment she hit the water, she reached beside her in a spirited movement and levered the arrow out of the stones with all her might.

Mr Psycho seemed to have lost all self-control. A dark shadow around his mouth. Her blood. Instead of pulling her back up, he rushed at her, eyes wide and she thrust the arrow towards his chest.

Had they been standing, the movement would not even have caused a scratch. The speed with which he moved drove the apex of the arrow right into his solar plexus as the other end met impenetrable resistance right next to Caroline's ribs. The impact with which his body met hers took her breath away and pushed her head under the surface of the water.

She tried to push him off and with difficulty managed to lift her face out of the water beside the back of his head. The body on top of her twitched, no longer seeming capable of voluntary movement, but it was impossible to work her way out from under him.

The adrenaline rush that had been driving her was over. Her heart pumped warm blood in streams from her throat. The stabbing and dull pain had given way to icy cold and numbness.

Far away, she heard yelling and sensed the outlines of two figures coming towards her. They were shouting things at each other. Even though she could no longer process the words, she knew they were upset. Finally the limp body was pulled off her and she was able to take a few last free breaths.

"Holy shit! He's dead!"

One of the two figures had spouted the words in disbelief.

Bliss it may not have been, but at least a deep peace spread through her. The image of Isy cuddled up with her on one of the pool loungers under a clear starry sky appeared.

On the edge of consciousness, she caught warm lips on her throat again, but nothing could stop her from following the peace into the darkness.