Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Also in the cage? A very pretty unfamiliar human female. She says her name is Rosalind. She makes his khui sing.
It’s finally his time.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
One
(For trigger warnings, a setback image and more, please scroll back if your book starts here)
ROSALIND
I’ve been buried alive.
Terrified, I squint at my surroundings. Everything’s dark. So dark. I’m confused—I don’t know how I got here or what’s happened to me. It’s bitterly cold. I think the cold is what woke me up. All I know is that it’s pitch-black in here, and when I put my hands up, I encounter the lid of my coffin a few short inches from my face.
I’m trapped.
I shove at the lid, frantic. “Help!” I cry out. “Someone help me!”
My fists hammer on the lid of the coffin, and then I discover an upraised section that feels almost like a button. I push it, and a sound like a soda can opening whooshes around me.
Sunlight floods in. Oh.
I’m not buried alive after all.
I gulp lungfuls of searingly cold air as the lid slides back, and then I sit up, clutching the edge of the lid. I’m not in a coffin but…I also have no idea where I am. When I look outside, I see nothing but snow and wintry mountains on one side of me, and on the other, there’s a cluster of strange, dark grey metallic pods lined up on a circle of yellow grass. My breath puffs in the air around me.
It’s winter.
When did it become winter?
“H-hello?” I call out. “Anybody?”
There’s no response. Whoever shoved me in this weird trunk has apparently already left again. My fingers prickle with cold and something pinches my arm. I lift it up, only to see a tube running under my skin, like a hospital IV. I follow the tube with my fingers, and it leads right into my strange trunk. With a whimper of fear, I yank it out of my arm and brace myself, waiting for a cacophony of alerts to sound. Nothing does.
Okay. I have written some weird-ass fanfic in my day, but this is stranger than anything I could come up with. Swallowing hard, I rub my arms over my freezing body. That’s when I notice my clothes. Or rather, my lack of clothes. I’m wearing a formless white slip that’s tight over my breasts and loose everywhere else. The arms are bare, and I have a watch of some kind on my wrist, which is weird because I don’t wear a watch. There are no shoes, and I can feel the cold weather nipping at my toes.
“Hello?” I call again. Is this a prank gone wrong? If so, someone needs to get sued. Repeatedly.
There’s a muffled scream nearby, and all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in response. I crane my head, turning around just in time to see what looks like a massive beast carrying a woman off over his shoulder. She screams again, flailing, and then they disappear into the snowy hills.
This is definitely not like any fanfic I’ve written. Mine are full of cuddles. Soft vows of love. Men having babies. Spock and Kirk making out like bunnies and raising tribbles on a farm. I have never written a kidnap fic in my life and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t dream about one.
I pinch my arm, hard enough that I draw blood, and I don’t wake up.
Well, fuck.
Who was that woman? Who carried her off? Why don’t I know what’s going on?
The soda-can-whooshing sound nearby sends a hot blade of terror through my body. I can’t stay here for some hulking monster to show up and pick me off. I have to find safety. I have to find whoever brought me here.
I have to find a freaking winter jacket so I don’t die of exposure.
I clamber out of the dark, strange coffin and hit the ground. Immediately, my toes curl and I want to retreat back into the pod. It is cold. So cold that I know I can’t get very far without shoes. Maybe I need to crawl back inside and wait for a rescue.
A deep, unearthly groan comes from somewhere nearby. It’s a bass groan, the sound much deeper than any woman could make, and I think of the stranger carried off by the monster.
Definitely not staying.
I quickly check my “coffin” for anything that might be a shoe, and when it provides nothing, I strip off my paper-thin gown and rip it in half. It’s not protecting me from the elements anyhow, and I need to get away from here, quickly. I grab handfuls of the strange, springy moss and make quick pillows out of it, then wrap the length of fabric around each foot. I’ll be able to get somewhere faster if my feet aren’t touching the bitterly cold earth.
Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I squat next to my coffin, trying to determine the best place to run to. There’s a craggy cliff not too far away, and I can see hints of greenery on it. Perhaps there’s a cave nearby that will allow me to get out of this horrible wind. I straighten, looking around to see if anyone is noticing the naked chick, and when the coast seems clear, I race for the rocks as quickly as I can.