Coretta
Rusty chains clattered against the ground as hordes of slave women shackled in them, moved ahead to get their food. A piece of hard bread and watery soup.
The food arena was in shambles, only having the burnt whiff of wood turning to charcoal. With mountain-like men shouting to get going.
A large uneven bowl in hand, I shifted with the flock of starving women in a queue. The iron chains around my neck and hands flaked with rust, dirtying my skin more than it already was.
The sight of the food would've repulsed me like never before, but now it didn't.
At this stage, I needed food, like oxygen.
Settling in a hall full of women slaves, I observed the place. Poor, innocent women hoping to become priestesses were being subjected to such harsh lives. My hand moved up my arm, feeling the uneven skin as I chewed on a hard piece of bread. A soup as bland as water lay beside. But as long as my body was benefiting from it, making my strength return, I didn't care.
It still hurt as I lifted my arm. The day was no more than a nightmare. After they'd made the mark with the burning knife, they immediately poured a cool, viscous liquid, like oil, onto my bleeding arm. It did bring temporary relief, but later, I found it was used to harden the slave mark in place and not let the body's platelets to naturally cure the wound.
I glanced at it again, but after all this time of bearing it, tears clouded my eyes at the charred sight. I didn't die from the slave mark. And if Aarmen's hypothesis was true, this disgusting mark was to travel with me to my world.
Such ever-increasing anger and hate was filling me for these people, who did unimaginable brutalities in the facade of being a priest, to be close to God, that my body shook with rage. It was only when a nearby enslaved woman, confused, tapped me, did I find the hard bread turned to smithereens in my palm.
If I got the chance with Aphrodite's mercy, I'd love to punch that Nael, really hard before I departed anywhere. That despicable man ought to know that he shouldn't have messed with a 21st-century woman.
Days came and passed by, with them doing nothing but feeding us and teaching slave etiquette. Something about skinny slaves not having a hefty selling price went about, that they were giving us so much food. But it was gross, nonetheless. It reminded me of animals being fattened up before being taken to a butchery.
Nael occasionally came to check on me, and I had this premonition that he was really trying to buy me off from his father.
Every night, with my heart in throat, I removed my black contacts to let my poor eyes breathe as I slept. There were so few left, that I tried to clean the already-worn lenses. Which I knew would prove infectious for my eyes. But I had to.
Because I didn't trust the electric compulsion anymore.
There was so much bleeding when they made the slave mark, yet, tinges of electric compulsion were all I'd felt.
Even when the slave master used his whip when I made a mistake, I wouldn't let the tears shed. Because I'd realised, they would make my lens cloudy. And I couldn't afford to throw away the few I'd left. I had three new ones remaining and saved the worn ones for emergencies.
I wondered if the electric compulsion had decided to activate itself only if I was killed... severely...
Closing my eyes, I dabbed them with the clean part of my linen and continued to eat. In the watery soup, I stared at my eyes. Relieved to see the black irises staring back.
"I've written the details of slave life you'd asked me, Coretta." Aarmen messaged me as I continued to eat. This was the thing I liked about our leader. He could do things without the heat of emotions affecting him. I knew he was sad, perhaps feeling helpless, but he did whatever I asked, nonetheless.
'It's been 4 days. Dunkin's still disconnected.' I messaged, gritting on the hard piece of bread. Two more days and it would've gone stale. 'Where has he gone?'
"Cors, I'll reach Greece in a day. And don't worry, I've asked my companions to keep a check on every slave market near Greece's coast. We'll free you in no time."
I nodded to myself, but these two were hiding something. 'Thank you so much, Lorenzo. But... But where's Dunkin?' My heart thudded, afraid that my friend had taken the riskiest road to free me.
"Uh, well, he hasn't messaged in a while..." Lorenzo stuttered.
"Coretta, he said he'd return your book to Julian. Ever since the night he had to execute his plan, we haven't heard from him." Aarmen informed.
"Be up and ready slaves! The ships have arrived at the harbour!" Soon, the slave masters barged into the hall, dragging away the women. Some couldn't even finish their food as their bowls were kicked off. These demons didn't have respect for a fellow human, how could they have it for the life-giving food...
The afternoon Sun was oppressive as the sand burnt under our feet. Stretches of sand, and only sand were all my eyes could see when we stepped out a large cave-like entrance. The dry scorching desert winds harshly sweeping past us.
My eyes couldn't believe as I witnessed thousands of women, like me, being tied up in a queue and getting dragged near the harbour of what was the Mediterranean sea.
It appeared that this place was a centre point for all the slaves from the neighbouring Kingdoms of Egypt. All these poor women who were taken to a completely unknown land.
In the distance, I saw the slave master of our group talking to someone as we stood huddled in a group, just when I felt a hand clamp my mouth.
I couldn't even get my voice out as the unknown force began to drag me back from where we had left.
Only when we reached the interior of the cave, did I found it to be none else than Nael, his breathing harsh as he looked around making sure no one was in vicinity.
He wanted to keep me for himself but was such a loser that he had to steal me, in his own area.
Unknowingly, he was making my dream come true today.
"Th- Thank you." I joined my hands in prayer, "Thank you so much, Nael. F- For saving me..." I whimpered.
And it took him aback as his expression turned to a confused but lusty one.
"Not even my slave yet so obedient..." he gritted out in satisfaction as he barked a laugh, looking in a certain direction, repeatedly.
Slowly, I bent before him, bowing my head at his feet. "I- I can be your slave, b- but please don't send me to- to Greece." I looked up at his pleased expression. "This- this is my only wish..."
"Darling, you really know how to melt me, don't you?" he chuckled. "I've asked one of my Persian men to take you to Babylonia, and from there..." he bent to my level, lifting my face by the chin. "I'll buy you for myself."
I nodded meekly, ever-guarded that no other heartbeats except ours were detected in my AI chip. That Persian man he was talking about was nowhere near us at the moment.
Thank you, Aphrodite. Thank you, Athena.
I leaned into him, and it was my fortune that he didn't mind me gently holding onto his shoulder, tilting my face up to him.
And then I sighed. As if the biggest relief had overtaken me. "Thank you, Nael," I whispered, closing my eyes.
I could feel his skin burn. The lust was making him burn, but today, it would burn him down for good.
"Chryseis," he breathed out. "You tasted so good, baby," he felt my lower lip, his body beating in exhilaration.
"But your brother ruined our kiss." I moved a thumb by the nape of his neck, hearing him grunt in response. And as expected, he crushed my lips to his, all weak and shuddering in delight as his body welcomed the pleasure, unknown to the pain that followed.
He couldn't even cry out loud when I bit his tongue, so hard that I tasted blood. The thumb stroking his neck turned to claws as my nails dug into his skin, before I detached my mouth from his, burying his face in the sand.
Women don't have the physical strength as men. So instead of relying on the force you use, focus on being quick. Impact force on core organs and quick change of tactics to confuse the opponent.
"Chry... Chrys!" His voice muffled, buried in the sand, but the grip of my nails only tightened on his neck, my teeth gritting in rage.
With his palm on the ever-unstable sand, he tried pushing, but before he could shove me back, I elbowed him hard at both his elbows, causing their movement to fizzle out.
Breathing hard, I gripped his hair to pull his face back up as he coughed out the sand then struck him down with another elbow to his skull, knocking him near unconsciousness.
I couldn't muster enormous force but I kept my hits quick, as was taught to me.
He roared, gripping onto the cave's stony wall but I only dug my knee into his back, pulling out the dagger given by the Romanowskian spy to leave a deep gash at his calves, just so he couldn't chase me as I left this place. All my plans would fail if he sent me to a Persian kingdom.
"Chryseis, you nasty woman!" he seethed out, seeing my dagger, dripping with his blood. With his confusion turning to anger, I knew I couldn't afford to loose my weapon because as soon as his hardened gaze went to my knife, I threw it away.
I needed to incapacitate him further, and that's why I slacked for a moment. Deliberate relaxation strategy to vex the abuser.
Taking it as an opportune moment, like a madman out for blood, he grabbed onto the chains between my wrists, pulling me toward him to seize my throat in a death grip.
"You'll die, witch! I've buried countless women in these deserts!" he gritted out, crushing my neck, but I was no fool to attempt taking his hands off me.
When in truth, he was the fool. His ego was so huge that in his madness, he didn't even do anything except choking me, as if his sheer anger was enough to kill me.
That's where my training came in handy. Because murderous gazes of abusive men had zero effect on me.
With the precision honed by countless hours of training, I curled my fist with my thumb tightened between my fingers and struck a vigorous punch to his solar plexus. The iron cuffs bit into my wrists with the force, but I didn't care. I was thankful for the slave chains between my wrists to be long enough to facilitate movement.
That immediately loosened his grip from me as his face blanked out, staggering against the cave's wall. His bleeding leg writhing against the sand.
Without hesitation, I climbed over him, my knee unforgivingly pressing into his abdomen. This time, I held his neck, as he breathed hard. The punch to his midsection wasn't allowing him to even lift an arm.
But to escape, unscathed, I had to make him unconscious.
"If I am for Aphrodite, I can also be for Athena." I glared down at him, digging my thumb into the sensitive flesh between his collarbones.
Gasping for breath, he began lifting his arms, coughing, but one kick into his stomach had him hissing out in torment.
"Oh, and the woman you buried in these deserts," I gave him my sweet smile. "They asked me to do one last favour for you."
There was such fear in this cruel man, at last, that my heart danced in fulfillment. I swiftly left his throat, only to execute a quick, but lethal carotid strike by the side of his neck as his mouth opened by the shock, but nothing came out. I saw his injured tongue before his eyes rolled back into his socket, unconscious.
My throat was pricking dry, as another dust wind blew past, making me cough from the exertion over my neck. Shaking from the adrenaline that was finally leaving my body, I pressed a palm to his chest, feeling the heartbeat. Alive, but unconscious. It was my victory.
The carotid strike was a special technique, only to be used in utterly dire situations like these, wherein the carotid sinus running by the side of the neck had to be struck precisely.
Because striking this lovely part of the neck confuses the brain receptors to believe that the body's blood pressure is too high. That, in turn, lead to a sudden drop in blood pressure, and this insufficient blood supply to the brain triggered fainting.
As I silently thanked my trainers who'd made me workout, day and night for this, I dragged Nael by his leg further into the cave where no passing men could find him. Careful enough to not let his blood on my clothes.
Meekly peeping out the cave like a woman, who couldn't even hurt a fly, I found the slave master pacing around to find the one missing slave that was me.
Tucking the dagger back into my robes, I stepped out when his eyes weren't on me. Carefully, making sure I was away from the spot where I'd left Nael, I made an act to escape as soon the slave master's gaze landed on me.
"You bitch!" he howled, striking his whip on the sand as he charged my way, grabbing me by the hair.
A harsh slap hit my face as soon as he turned me around. "The fuck you thought were running to?!" he snatched at the iron chains hanging between my wrists.
But soon, his face changed to that of dread when the impact of his slap made a bloody trail out my mouth. Which were the remnants of Nael's blood from the bite.
"Oh Zeus, for fuck's sake," he grunted, taking my face to analyse the damage, "I didn't fucking hit you so hard that you'll bleed," he cursed infinitely, something about deteriorating my market value by accident as he dragged me near the harbour.
"Here, drink it!" he threw me a container of water, "There shouldn't be an ounce of blood in that mouth. Hurry up, you wench!" he barked, pacing back and forth. "So fucking weak these creatures are."
I was more than happy to oblige, feeling my throat at ease at last as I climbed the wooden stairs into the gigantic slave ship. The slave ship to Greece.
As the ship set forth into the sea, finally leaving the land of Egypt, leaving Romanos, a hardness settled in my chest, to see the place I landed in for the first time in this world, drifting away.
But then I saw Nael in the distance, staggering out of the cave. Even though my body hurt with all the physical exertion I'd applied, I smiled.
"Never underestimate the weakness of a 21st-century woman, Nael. Because that fragility is just an act to cover up the strength that lies underneath." I whispered.