Episode 11.1 - Just a Little Spy

Why did I even get up on this day? To these gorillas standing in front of me, I seem to be nothing but a cheap toy. And no one does anything about it. Neither the guards, who don't even seem to care, nor Musator, who doesn't want to lose his position.

I have no idea how to get out of this situation, and the longer I'm around these guys, the less I believe Mak will come to rescue me. I'm so afraid of what will happen next.

***

A sharp pain shoots through my cheek as I'm struck by an open hand. Hot tears well up in my eyes, which I can no longer hold back. Slowly, they flow down my cheek and drip onto the floor.

The man in front of me is marked by a distinct scar and a reddened cheek, thanks to my slap. His gaze, fixed on me, seems satisfied by my tears; the two men who lifted me into the air, on the other hand, laugh amusedly.

To my left stands the brother of Scarface, to my right a man who neither looks good nor bad. The fourth prisoner, whom I kicked, is still unable to get up.

My gaze is full of panic on the man in front of me, my heart beating wildly. I'm not only afraid of further blows, but much more of what they will do to me if I stop resisting.

From the corner of my eye, I see Moriphos straighten up. Anger is evident in his gaze.

"Keep your dirty hands off her," he growls at the guys. He wants to intervene, but some of the prisoners hold him back.

The man standing in front of me laughs briefly amused. "Haven't you realized it yet?" he shouts to the Time Stormer. A broad grin, clearly showing how much he enjoys it, spreads across his face. "The sweet one surely only hooked up with you to get information." While the man in front of me only laughs at the other, Moriphos looks at me incredulously, practically begging me to say it's not true. "She's just a little, useless spy."

"No!" I cry out, even though no one believes me anyway. "I'm not a spy!"

The man in front of me now looks directly at me. Under his gaze, I instinctively flinch. I avert my gaze from him, but he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.

"Do you think anyone believes you?" is his question. Disbelief and contempt for me are evident in his gaze. "And now be a good girl!"

But that's the last thing I intend to do. I swing my foot and try to hit him. Unfortunately, I fail. He blocks my kick and responds directly to my action.

His fist hits me with full force in the stomach. I groan, my body slackens. Only now do the men let me fall.

I can't stand, my strength is not enough for that, I just land roughly on the hard floor, where I remain, curling up in pain.

But that's not the worst that can happen.

The man I kicked has recovered. My eyes widen in fear as my gaze falls on his angry face, wishing me dead.

I press my hand against the sore spot on my stomach, then try to crawl away. But I don't get far. A kick to the ribs stops me.

With a cry of pain, I roll onto my side, where another kick awaits me.

I scream in pain. Tears roll down my cheeks. The longer it lasts, the more my hope for rescue fades. Mak must have long since noticed what's going on.

One of the Four crouches down next to me. The one I slapped.

"Why are you here anyway?" he demands to know from me. "Who are you supposed to spy on? These idiots you're always hanging around with, or someone else?"

"No one!" I manage to say through the pain, even though they won't believe me anyway.

"Don't lie to us!" the man yells angrily at my words. He winds up before his fist rushes towards me. A fierce blow hits me in the face, directly on the nose.

I cry out and roll onto my back. I press my hand against my nose. I feel blood running along my fingers.

"We'll show you what it means to lie to us!" one of the men shouts.

Their kicks hit me in the side, despite my attempts to fend them off with my hands. I scream, just wanting it all to end, for them to put an end to it. But my silent pleading goes unheard.

While they stop their kicks, that's what worries me. They look down at me, lying motionless and whimpering at their feet, and it seems to amuse them.

The prisoner who came to me first has stopped them. Now he stands over me, his hand sliding under my shirt. I start trembling at his touch.

"Are you trying to beat her to death?" The question is directed at his comrades, but he doesn't take his eyes off me. A malicious grin spreads across his face.

Can't they just kill me?, I wonder. That must have been how it was for my mother, is my second thought. How much must she have suffered in the days before my visit there?

A will to fight rises within me. The meager remains of it. Even if it only results in more blows and kicks. I want even less what he intends.

With my last remaining strength, I try to somehow get him off me. But I regret my action immediately.

"You little beast still haven't had enough?" A laugh comes from the guy above me.

He grabs my hair and painfully pulls it up. I cry out and grab his hand, wanting to scratch him or do something else to make him let go of me, but his fist hits me in the face before I can.

Under the blow, my lip bursts, my head thrown against the hard metal floor by the force. Everything slowly blurs before my eyes. The pain is mostly from my head, from the spot that hit the floor.

Slowly, my fingers move to the spot. When I withdraw them, there's a sticky, red fluid on my fingertips. But I don't notice much more.

My eyes close, and I fight against unconsciousness. But I still notice how the guy blows his stinking, hot breath in my face. Hear his words and their mocking laughter. Feel my shirt being torn.

When I open my eyes again, his tongue is trailing over my body.

It's just disgusting!

I want to resist, but I don't have the strength anymore. Everything in me hurts, especially the spots where their kicks hit me.

I don't hope for rescue anymore.

At the moment, I just wish it would all end quickly. That they would finally put an end to it.

"Keep your dirty hands off the girl!" a voice rises from the entrance. So loud and full of anger that all eyes are now on the entrance.

This voice has become familiar to me lately. I've never heard it so filled with anger before.

The man above me flinches as the voice sounds. Now his gaze is full of hatred and contempt for the redhead approaching us.

"What is he meddling in?" the man above me growls softly. A tremor runs through him, which I don't understand at first. When the redhead is with us, the prisoner immediately follows the silent command to get off me.

"Poor girl!" The hand of the redhead gently pats my cheek. After a brief moment, during which he looks at me only with pity, his gaze angrily shifts to the prisoners. "Tell me, do you enjoy beating up little girls?"

Upon the remark that he knows how spies are treated down here, his fist lands on the face of the one from whom these words came.

"Maybe she wasn't lying when she said she's the one being watched," he snorts.

Even though I hadn't believed in rescue until just now, Gasard's sight at this moment is the most beautiful to me. I'm so glad he's here. Tears stream down my cheek. This time not from pain, but from happiness.

Gasard leans down to me and lifts me into his arms.

Another face leans over me. A few strands of his black hair fall into his face, his expression as unmoved as his voice. "That's what happens when the girl is stupid enough to show the bracelet everywhere."

Immediately, Gasard's gaze is reproachful towards him, but then it returns to the prisoners. "For the attack on her, there will only be one meal ration per day for the next month!" he orders.

His gaze shifts down to me. An encouraging smile is on his lips.

"Don't worry, you won't come back here."

At that moment, everything around me turns black. I faint.