I wake up with a tingling sensation on my left cheek. As I get back to my conscious self, I meet a huge clout clobbering my left side of my face yet again. I open my eyes… I fail to recognize these people around, in a half-opened view. Apprehended, where all of my limbs are constrained by movements. I can’t maneuver myself because it is close to not possible as I am shackled both of my arms with iron cuffs alongside with the strength of those brutes who are holding down my bicep-tricep region. In addition, my legs have been tied down closely to each other seaming into a singular chain plus the weight of an iron ball latches to a lock on both of my ankles.
“Wakey-wakey…” says the ruffian, as he follows up with another right hook on my face, this time in the midst of the eye.
“Oops, I didn’t mean to punch you right in the eye.” concluding, he apologizes.
The rest of the crew are laughing at the inflictor, not me. By the looks of it, they are willing to torment goods such as myself. I can’t blame them for doing this, these buffoons are not under the clause of civil rights. They are too lenient to me as far as I can see. If I am to torture an individual, I’ll break the either knee cap of the victim by mauling with whatever such bashing weapon on my hand first then my subsequent region to pinpoint is one’s both hands - dislocating them with no remorse. The solution to this formula is to uproot each nail from the fingers then each single tarsal is not of the safe either from the woes. All until the wrist part, this way the prey couldn’t mount a weapon to retaliate. For double measure, bend the elbow from the other swiveling motion. This is agony for you. But sometimes, it’s better to be creative - just do overdo it not. I’ll eventually do this method upon them if I somehow get myself unleashed from this circumstance.
“What art thy name? Mine is …” I hesitate for a second “... you may do call me: Roanan.” I profess to them to be friendly and docile.
I would say I am too fortunate to be alive, still. They are skimming out something from the log when I told them my moniker I made up. It’s true. These guys are hunting figures based on the records of, I suppose, criminals and bounties. I do apologize as I am getting ahead of myself, they are just wasting their efforts and time searching for something non-existent. I do also notice that there’s a drip of thick watery substance trickling into my eye. The viscosity is so thick where it somehow blinds me. Red. Same as the ink. And someone as compassionate is willing to seep me clean water into my eye. Right vision is alright where my left sight is recuperating into the original state.
“Thank you.” I gasp for air, after I nearly drown for a second time - one is when my galley’s expunged into pieces and the other is just recent.
“Say, your name is: Roanan, right?” as the sailor once more tries to reconfirm my aforementioned snide identity, relaying to them whereas I nod my head.
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He moves his hand one time to my face, three taps on my left cheek. Examining my beard, brushing up my hair in an upward motion… as it looks like he is searching for something around my forehead, he touches the wound near my left eye; then I react: “Aw!” the man gets cold feet putting pressure on the injured part. Of course, I flinch where it widens both of my eyes in reaction to the pain that has transpired.
“Be mindful of his wounded part, you imbecile.” as one of the crew reminds his mate to take it easy of me, he warns.
“It’s easier said than done.” the guy who handles me protests, grunting.
“What did you say to me?”
“You heard me.” as the guy who is unto me readies himself for the possible assault from behind.
The other sailor grabs the examiner by his nape, manhandling him - completely helpless. It is because of that simple repulsive response. Inciting altercation, where both parties are getting riled up to each other, as the commotion heightens. These people really don’t have class, they belong to be ostracized and criminalized... lower than the untouchables - they deserve it. Still, I am absolutely motionless. These cuffs around me are really constricting me from moving. And to add it up, it is hurting since they are getting tighter than before. I wish to escape from this situation but they wrapped me around like a roll of bread. I budge a little, nonetheless, it does help not at all. Jeez! The bickering continues among the sailors as I am undertaking my hardest to flee and somehow go unnoticed. All of them are mitigating the commotion as soon as possible and that is good not for me.
One sailor asks: "What do you think you're doing, mister?" as he notices me making a run to escape. Though, I'm still stuck here. He trifles me while his crewmates are wreaking havoc all over the place.
"I am doing stretches as of now." I reply, hiding the fact that I am trying to make an escape.
"Oh, really? Do you want to be stretched even further, mister? As a matter of fact, you seem so stretched right now." declaring, he is aware, he does buy it not.
"Touché, indeed." I sigh, where he is about to be aggressive on me, a cold steel near my throat - pressing the fuller down to my trachea.
"What is this ruckus all about?!" a girthy huge bellow coming from my right side of hearing, where the clamor has ceased, all of the sailors are cowering in fear when they hear the voice.
As it looks like that the head of this ship has been disturbed, judging by the look on his face… he is quite irritated because of the prior incident happening recently. The silence continues to be eerie, no one from the crew is willing to speak up. One-by-one, the captain is inspecting each one of his sailors. He then looks at me with a baffled face. He confronts me in a gentle way, where he squats his feet to reach me down. Due to his curiosity to me, leashed and strangled below - he releases the lock of my ankles and yet to be as of my shackles on my arms.
"Who are you, lost mister?" the captain asks while he is crouching in a soft-spoken voice, where there is the grin on his face.
"I may require a private audience with you, captain. It is of the urgency." I demand, he smiles as it seems he likes my demeanor.