[Ridge]
They turn around before I can reach them. This is someone clearly adept at not only stealth, but using their senses as well. Is it a stowaway? Or did they board the boat while everyone was asleep?
When they see me they react immediately, but they're not the only one who's trained their senses. I react faster, slugging my bag over my shoulder and chucking it at their face.
I don't slow down, pushing through the sharp jolts of pain that rush up my leg every time my foot comes down. Unfortunately, my backpack full of paper, small everyday items, and clothes doesn't do much to faze them.
They easily swat the bag away, but by the time it hits the ground, I'm in their face. Their face, which is covered by a black mask with teeth sewn onto it. Human teeth... mostly.
Some of them are capped in metal or gold, and a few of them are canines, strangely shaped like they're from an animal. They're sewn on with black thread to form a smile on the mask. It's disturbing, and a little intriguing.
I lunge at their waist, taking them down onto the wooden floor of the deck. They roll over as we fall and I follow suit, using their own momentum against them so that instead of stopping with them on top of me we keep rolling. We crash into a pile of wooden crates, the plants splintering and bending inward on themselves.
Sacks of potatoes and bottles of wine leak out, scattering around us. A few potatoes bounce out of an open sack and when we hit a wave they go rolling under the railing and into the water with a splash.
The intruder recovers quickly from slamming into the crates, barely pausing to rub their back. I sit up and try to scoot back as they grab for me. My body hurts too much right now, especially my foot. I need to create some distance.
They claw their way on top of me so I kick them in the face with my good leg. My bare heel slams into their jaw, knocking them back some. They grab their face, hissing in pain.
I use the distraction to try to scramble to my feet. Then a hand clamps around my ankle, long nails digging into my already bruised flesh, and yanks me back down. I fall again and my face slams against the deck. I'm pretty sure that just reopened my head wound.
Biting my lip to get a grip on the pain, I kick around to try and get free. My ear pressed against the deck can hear shouting coming from below us. Everyone's waking up. They must have heard the commotion.
Well it's about damn time. Why did I feel the need to try to capture them alone? The first thing I should've done was call for backup, but to be fair, it did look like they were heading for the cabin. I couldn't have gotten around them to get to anyone first without being noticed.
I dig my fingers into the wooden deck, trying to brace myself better in order to drag my body away from the person struggling to avoid my flailing legs. My bad leg hits the side of their rock hard head, making me freeze and curl up a bit.
"AGh!" Blood seeps into my mouth. I split my lip trying to distract myself from the pain.
They take advantage of the split second my leg goes rigid to pin it to the ground. I look behind me from my army crawl position, just in time to see them pick up a glass bottle that rolled out of its carrier.
"Fucker." They mutter bitterly before crashing the bottle down onto my foot.
"FUCK-" I scream, then my voice catches in my throat and I'm left with my mouth gaping open in a silent cry.
They don't stop. Alcohol floods into the cuts, burning holes through my fucking sanity. They keep beating my foot with the shattered bottle, not stabbing, beating. The hard glass breaks off a little more with each hit, sticking in my skin until all they're holding is the neck of the bottle.
It feels like my bones have been crushed, my muscles torn, like my whole foot has been ripped off one chunk at a time. As they toss the now useless remains of the bottle away I reach down and shakily grip a shard of glass, pulling it out of my calf.
When they turn back around, probably assuming I've passed out by now, I use ALL of my strength to push up off the deck with my arms and plunge the jagged glass into the side of their neck. I feel it dig deep into my palm from how hard I have to hold onto it to keep my trembling hands from dropping it.
They dodge, swerving their head to the side at the last second, and slamming right into the sole of someone's shoe. The kick sends them flying off of me, and both of us hit the ground with a thud at the same time. Me because I no longer have the ability nor the desire to hold myself up anymore, and them because I'm a hundred percent sure that the force of the kick was so strong I could hear the loud sickening crack of their nose breaking.
As I crumple to the ground again, all my muscles spasm painfully before giving out completely. My poor head hits a sack of potatoes like a lumpy pillow. That's probably better than cracking it on the wood again, right? I don't know, I can't think. My vision's leaving, all I see are purple spots.
I don't want to pass out again. I'll get left out, left behind. Things happen that I miss out on when I sleep. God I'm so tired though. It's late right? Why am I still awake, don't I have to get up early tomorrow?
Shit what are we doing tomorrow again? I should ask Kadeeth. Oh, speak of the devil, I knew I recognized that voice!
Between the spots of warm color, I can make out the red of Kadeeth's bed head. Is he the one messing with my head? That hurts, I should tell him to stop. I try to lift my hand to grab his ear but it won't move for some reason.
My brow furrows in confusion, I can't speak either. I have something to tell him though? This is so frustrating. I'll just tell him in the morning. It's his fault anyway, he probably made it so I can't move. His jokes aren't funny. I'll have to yell at him when I wake up.
I don't want to wake up.