TW//: Kidnapping, mature language, blood mentioned, violence, sexual harassment verbally and slight physically
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ A m b e r ' s P o v ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
The suns had long set over the dunes of Tatooine, casting long, sinister shadows across the landscape that seemed to play tricks on my mind. every shift in the sand felt like the footfalls of the man relentlessly pursuing me. His voice slithered through the air, a venomous promise, "I saw you, girl. Come out wherever you are. I won't hurt you too badly." The words made my skin crawl, echoing off the walls of the narrow alley where I pressed myself flat, trying to become one with the shadows. My heart pounded against my chest, a frantic drumbeat of fear and desperation. I was so close to him, separated only by a thin veil of darkness, praying he wouldn't sense my presence.
This wasn't the life I envisioned for myself. Growing up, I dreamed of adventures leaving this place not being hunted on the dusty plains of Tatooine. My mother had left me here, a decision that haunted me every day. My father a brave soul had perished on a mission before his time. leaving behind a legacy my brother the last beacon of hope in our family had vanished trying to fill the void my father left. The weight of their absence was a constant companion, one that felt particularly heavy in moments like these.
The thought of being caught by this man, of losing my chance at a normal life, was unbearable. I refused to become another one of Dejec's pawns, to be sold and used at his whim. The things I'm forced to do under his command—acts of violence, unspeakable favors for him and his depraved associates—are leaving scars on me that will never fully heal.
Glancing around the edge of the wall, I saw my opportunity. The man had turned his back, giving me the precious seconds I needed. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I made my decision. This was it. I pushed off the wall, my legs propelling me forward with a burst of speed born of pure desperation. I didn't look back; I couldn't. My focus was singular escape.
Miraculously, I managed to evade him, my feet carrying me through Tatooine back to the modest shelter I called home. It wasn't much, just a small, unassuming dwelling that housed the meager possessions I had scavenged or stolen to survive. But it was mine, a sanctuary in a world that offered few. I knew this was a wake-up call. I couldn't afford to let my guard down again. My life on Tatooine had taught me to be resilient and to adapt. From now on, I had to be more vigilant, and more cunning. Because I knew he wouldn't be the last to come after me. But I also knew something else—a fire had been lit within me, a determination to rise above the hand I'd been dealt. I deserved a better life.
The night was supposed to be like any other, quiet and peaceful, with the gentle hum of the world outside lulling me to sleep. Yet, it turned into a nightmare when an ominous sound shattered that peace. The door to my house was being violently smashed, breaking the silence and jolting me awake. Panic surged through me as I tried to comprehend the chaos erupting outside my room. Before I could even fully grasp the situation, a group of six large, intimidating men burst in. Their faces were hidden, making them even more terrifying. I felt like I was in the middle of a nightmare, but the fear was all too real.
One of them, who seemed to be the second in charge, reached for his comlink and spoke with a chilling authority. "Master Ren, we have the girl," he reported. The response from the other end was cold and direct, "Bring her to me." In a matter of seconds, two of the men lunged forward, seizing me before I could think of resisting. Their grip was ironclad, rendering my attempts to fight back futile. They dragged me outside, and I was thrown to the ground with such force that I hit my head on a lone rock. The pain was sharp, a forewarning of the suffering to come. Blood stained my hand as I touched the wound, a grim reminder of my vulnerability in this moment of terror.
As I struggled to comprehend my situation, the weight of a boot pressed down on my hand, pinning me to the ground. The pain was excruciating, a physical manifestation of the fear and helplessness that overwhelmed me. Then, the leader approached his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I finally caught you, Amber," he sneered, his voice laced with malice. His disdain was palpable, and it sent shivers down my spine. Despite my fear, I was acutely aware of every word, every threat that hung in the air.
They were taking me to their ship, an ominous structure that loomed in the distance. It was vaguely familiar, yet I couldn't place where I had seen it before. The journey to the ship was a blur of pain and fear. The men started making crude comments about me
"She looks like she would give me a fun time"
"Cardo she's ugly as hell man"
"She has a great pair of boobs and ass Trudgen"
each word a twisted knife that added to my humiliation and despair. Yet, when their leader turned around in fury he shouted "That's enough!" the tormenting stopped, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and the dread of what was to come.
Inside the ship, I was thrown into a room that was stark and foreboding, with nothing but a chair equipped with metal cuffs. The realization of my situation hit me as they secured me to the chair—this was an interrogation room, a place of fear and pain. The men left without a word, leaving me in suffocating silence. Alone, I couldn't help but wonder about my fate.
What did they want with me?
What horrors awaited?
The uncertainty was almost as terrifying as the ordeal itself. My mind raced with questions, and fear, the chill that crept into my bones was unlike anything I'd experienced before. It wasn't just the temperature of the room that had shifted; it was as though the very atmosphere had taken on a sinister quality, pressing in on me with an almost physical weight. The door, which had been firmly shut, suddenly flew open with such force that it seemed to herald the arrival of a storm. The man who had led me into the ship earlier stepped into the room, but he wasn't alone. Beside him walked another figure, shrouded in mystery, their face hidden beneath a hood. As this new figure gestured, the door swung shut as if obeying a silent command, and I found myself wondering who this person could be. The secrecy of their identities was unnerving – one wore a mask, the other a hood, as if their very visages were things to be concealed, perhaps out of fear of revealing something hideous beneath.
The throbbing in my head escalated, a piercing pain that seemed almost unnatural in its intensity. I winced, unable to contain a groan of discomfort, and the sound of their chuckles, deep and mocking, filled the room. It was as though they took pleasure in my suffering, a thought that twisted my stomach. Who were these people who reveled in the pain of others?
Suddenly, my body seized, immobile as if encased in an invisible block of cement. Panic surged within me, and I couldn't help but shout, "What are you doing to me? Why am I here?!" Their response was chilling, void of empathy. "We needed to find someone who... wouldn't be worth anything if you miraculously lived through everything I'm teaching my grandson."
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Grandson?" The word caught in my throat, confusion and disbelief intermingling. The hooded figure nodded a gesture that conveyed an eerie calm. "Yes, grandson. I'm sensing that you don't know who either of us are?"
I could barely suppress the incredulity and anger that surged within me. Of course, I didn't know them! Their identities were shrouded in secrecy, their faces hidden, their intentions cryptic. How was I supposed to recognize them? The situation was absurd and terrifying, and I was trapped in the middle of it, caught in a web of mystery and malice that I didn't understand. The realization that I was merely a pawn in some twisted lesson they were imparting on this "grandson" was both baffling and horrifying.
Amid an inexplicable ordeal, I felt a terrifying sensation similar to being suffocated, as if an unseen force tightly gripped my throat, cutting off my air supply. Panic surged through me as I desperately tried to free myself, only to realize my limbs were immobilized, betraying my frantic attempts for release. The brink of unconsciousness loomed over me, a threatening shadow ready to engulf my senses, when abruptly, the pressure vanished. My blurred, spotty vision gradually cleared, only to settle on a pair of glowing yellow eyes that pierced the dimness, a sight that sent shivers down my spine. An eerie sense of fear washed over me, yet, paradoxically, it seemed to break the paralysis that held me captive, returning control over my trembling body. Then, the chilling touch of a cold, gloved hand gently but firmly lifted my chin, forcing me to face the source of my dread.
"If you must know so badly, I'm Darth Vader, but you call me Lord Vader, and this is my grandson, Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren," Lord Vader declared, his voice resonating with a depth that made my heart plummet into the abyss. The revelation struck me with the force of a lightning bolt—the most feared figures in the galaxy, Darth Vader alongside his notorious grandson, were my captors.
"In the meantime, I'll let my grandson take over. Kylo, you know what to do. If you need help, just call me. I'll be in my office," Lord Vader stated authoritatively, before effortlessly opening the door with a mere gesture of his hand, leaving me in stunned silence. How could he do that? What was this power he wielded?
As the door shut behind him, my gaze locked with Kylo Ren's. Removing his helmet, he revealed his features, and to my astonishment, beneath the guise of the villain, was a remarkably handsome face. His long, curly hair framed his face perfectly, embodying the dangerous allure often spoken of in hushed tones—the most handsome are devils in disguise, and here I was, staring into the eyes of one.
Approaching me, Kylo Ren held something in his hand that shone in the light with each step he took. "My grandfather has entrusted you to me, Amber," he said, his voice carrying a chilling calmness. I felt the sharp point of a knife tracing a path over my shoulder, teasing the skin until it reached the front of my collarbone. Panic surged through me as he began to slice through my shirt, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. His actions were deliberate, aimed to intimidate and control, as he remarked, "My men are going to enjoy destroying you, Amber, and so will we."
The knife's cold touch then made its way to my chest, pressing slightly into my skin, drawing blood, and eliciting an involuntary gasp from me. Tears welled up in my eyes, not just from the physical pain but from the realization of the dire situation I was in. His mock concern only added to my torment as he dragged the knife down my cheek, a searing pain following its trail. "Fuck!" I screamed out, the pain unbearable, my cheek aflame and bleeding. Yet, he seemed to derive some twisted satisfaction from my suffering, wiping the blood away with a gloved thumb before disgustingly licking it off.
At that moment, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind, primarily centered on why anyone would take pleasure in such barbarity. From the initial terror of being choked by an invisible force, to the shocking revelation of my captors' identities, and now to the physical torment at Kylo Ren's hands, fear for my life consumed me. I was to be their vessel for pain and anger—a realization cut short by Kylo's menacing presence, reminding me of the grim reality I was ensnared in.
In the dimly lit chamber, Kylo Ren stood before me, his presence as menacing as the shadow he cast. His smile, dark and twisted, was accompanied by a glint in his eyes that spoke of malevolence. "Ah, I see you're beginning to understand your position," he said, his voice as cold as the void of space. "But don't entertain any thoughts of rebellion. I'm assigning Cardo to escort you to a room. He'll fit you with a collar, and let me be clear— I won't be the only one with access to its controls." With those chilling words, he spat on me, a final act of disdain before he donned his helmet once more and exited, leaving me in a state of shock and humiliation.
Moments later, Cardo entered a silent figure who released me from the constraints of the chair. As I stood, trying to regain my balance, my legs trembled beneath me, and I could feel the sting of the cut on my cheek, mingled now with Kylo's spit. Cardo's gaze lingered on me in a way that made my skin crawl. "You do have a nice pair if that's any consolation," he remarked, repeating the leering comment. I felt a wave of disgust wash over me, shrinking within myself, only to be abruptly pushed out of the room, shirtless and vulnerable.
As we moved through the corridors, I couldn't help but notice the eyes that followed me, each gaze filled with undisguised lasciviousness. "Damn, who's that?" one of the men remarked, his tone suggestive. Cardo, his expression unreadable behind his mask, quickly intervened. "Damon, let's not cross any boundaries. Get back to your work. Focus on the blueprints for Vader" he commanded, in an attempt to restore some semblance of order. The man named Damon simply nodded and winked at me before departing, leaving me bewildered by the overtly sexualized attention.
The objectification was relentless. Every man we passed seemed to have a lewd comment ready, their words dripping with desire and entitlement. I tried to block them out, to remain focused on anything but their harassing remarks, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Anger bubbled up inside me, not just at their behavior, but at the situation I found myself in. I was caught in a nightmare, surrounded by those who saw me as nothing more than an object for their amusement. It was a stark reminder of the harsh reality of my captivity.
Walking through the dimly lit corridors of the starship, the heaviness of my new reality weighed on me with each step. The hope that my room might offer a semblance of sanctuary was overshadowed by the stark awareness of my position - a pawn, easily accessible to the whims of Lord Vader and Kylo Ren. My thoughts were abruptly shattered by an ass slap; a radar technician, one of a passing group, took advantage of our proximity to violate my personal space. My heart sank, and a wave of nausea swept over me. Is this what my existence had been reduced to? Subjected to sexual assault with no recourse? Tears threatened to spill as a profound sense of violation enveloped me.
Cardo, ever vigilant, seemed to notice my distress. He paused, indicating the door to what was presumably my room, before excusing himself with a nod that I couldn't quite decipher. Moments later, I witnessed him confronting the man who had assaulted me. With a swift motion, Cardo had the man pinned to the ground, his boot pressing ominously against the man's neck. My heart raced - violence was not what I wanted, yet part of me felt vindicated seeing my assailant face consequences. Nevertheless, the spectacle was more than I could bear, and I retreated into the room Cardo had pointed out to me.
The room was stark, a small and impersonal space that offered little in the way of comfort. It was a far cry from home, devoid of warmth or life. As I touched my cheek, the remnants of a prior altercation were still palpable - the bleeding had stopped, at least. I managed to clean off the spit from Kylo Ren, a small act of reclaiming my dignity amidst the chaos. My chest, too, had ceased its bleeding, a small mercy in the grand scheme of things. Exhausted, I removed my shoes, worn and tattered from a time I could barely remember.
The moment the door creaked open and Cardo stepped in, casting a dim light across the room, my heart was caught in a vise of apprehension and relief. "I'm sorry you had to endure that. It was extremely uncalled for," he said, flipping the switch to illuminate the dingy space. My eyes, adjusting to the sudden brightness, widened in a mix of surprise and confusion. "It-it's okay," I stammered, but he was quick to counter, his voice laced with an unexpected gentleness.
"No, it's not. You don't deserve that. I know Kylo and Vader wouldn't care if you got touched talked about or...even assaulted. They are sick, disgusting men, but...fuck, I'm starting to care about you. So just be careful." His words, earnest and laced with concern, made my heart skip a beat. I could only nod slowly, still processing his admission.
As he removed his helmet, the room seemed to brighten even more. There he was—a cutie, with muscles that strained against his uniform and dark blonde hair tousled from the confines of his helmet. "Wow," escaped my lips before I could catch it, a whisper that wasn't as quiet as I had hoped. Cardo chuckled, a sound that surprisingly warmed the cold room, as he ran a hand through his hair. Yet, the moment was fleeting. His attention shifted to the table in the middle of the room, his demeanor turning serious again.
"I hate that I have to do this, but this is a collar," he said, holding up an ominous-looking device. It settled around my neck, fitting a bit tight but not overly so. His sigh carried a weight of sadness I hadn't anticipated. "Do you know what kind of collar it is?" he asked. I shook my head, innocence or perhaps naivety painting my response. The collar seemed ordinary to me, but his next words shattered that illusion. "It's a shock collar. All I can say is just follow their directions, and you hopefully won't get shocked too bad. I'm sorry again."
He proceeded to explain the layout of my room where I could find the shower, my clothes, and my bed, hidden behind a curtain. He also mentioned how to call him using the commlink, assigning himself as number 3. It was a lot to take in, especially the part about the collar.
How could I possibly shower with it on?
As he left, the reality of my situation sank in. The collar felt like a chain, not just around my neck but on my spirit. And then, unexpectedly, a shock coursed through my body. I cried out, the pain a sharp reminder of my helplessness. "Arg, fuck!" How had they triggered it?
Exhaustion enveloped me, a thick, heavy blanket of despair. I didn't even know what time it was anymore. Mechanically, I grabbed the first shirt I could find and stumbled toward my bed. Collapsing into it, the dirt, spit, and blood on my skin mingled with the fabric of the sheets. I wished fervently this was all just a nightmare, but deep down, I knew this grim, stark room was my new reality.