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  © Copyright 2016 by Daniella Wright - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Title

  Jailed

  Sign Up!

  Trapped With A Monster

  Forbidden Beast

  Double Fangs

  Vamp's Captive

  Invasor

  Chained To The Monster

  The Hunt

  Only Time

  Captive

  Triple Domination

  Captured By The Warriors

  Collared By The Warrior

  Prisoner X

  Slaved

  Ripped

  Jailed

  By: Daniella Wright

  Chapter One

  I hate waking up. Each time I do, I’m reminded of my predicament, and the maddening loneliness that comes with it. The emptiness in solitude hits me every single time – I can’t say “days,” really, not in this situation. Cycles, perhaps. Cycles of sleep, food, and glaring into the face of the unknown enemy.

  I stare at the metal of my cell, a claustrophobic tin box that has little else than the basic equipment. I have a bed with sheets that have been unchanged in ages. I have a shower head that only gives me one minute of water per cycle, and a hole in the ground beneath it that I use as a toilet. I have to rely on food and water rations from my captors.

  I walk over to the cell door and slide the upper grating open, so I can catch my glimpse of the corridor, and the other cells identical to mine. Blue lights illuminate the ceiling, and I see other women doing the same thing as me, starved of visual stimulation and a loving touch.

  If you had caught me before all this shit had taken place, I would have told you that the idea of aliens was nonsense. I’d laugh in your face, then plug in my iPod and go for a walk with my dog through one of the city parks, away from the traffic fumes to take in the beauty of green.

  At least, that would have been before the sudden golden beam of light that ensnared me from out of nowhere, and yanked me into this fucking cell. You can bet I was confused. Angry. Screaming. But screaming doesn’t do much good. If you scream, it gets their attention – and you’ll be punished.

  Punished by aliens who couldn’t care if you were a living, sentient human being or not. There’s other human women here, too – and female aliens, from what I’ve seen in their cells. Those aliens get the worst of it. The humans are mostly left alone, though I’ve not been able to figure out why, because no one talks to me, and even if they did, I wouldn’t be able to understand them. The other women who speak my language, and it’s just two of them – they have no clue what’s happening, either.

  In a split second, all of our lives were changed forever. I lost my family, my home, my job. I lost my future, and my connection to the internet, because wherever I am, there’s no signal anymore. I’m stuck in a spaceship with aliens that hiss and click to one another, and stare at me with their soulless black eyes.

  I’m running on empty about now. When time passes and you don’t have a single friend to talk to, or any kind of basic interaction, it’s a one way trip to madness. So far, I’ve staved it off by excessive daydreaming, thinking about my mom and dad and grandparents, my irritating aunt with the two cousins that bullied me whenever I went there for family holidays, and by replaying songs I like in my head.

  A lot of the times as well, I talk to myself out loud, just so I can hear a voice speaking, even if it’s only mine.

  Jocelyn, one of the human women in a cell three doors down from mine on the opposite side, is tapping on her door to grab my attention. “Lia. Lia. Lia? Hey.”

  She’s loud, and I wince. I motion for her to be quiet. I know it’s near due for the food rations, but Jocelyn doesn’t seem to care. Her cheeks are puffy from tears, and she seems delirious, probably dehydrated from her crying. When I don’t respond, she instead tries grabbing Katie’s attention, but Katie doesn’t even open her window.

  The female aliens who don’t understand our language gape at us. Then, our captors burst through the doors, carrying their ration bags. Tall, dark yellow specimens with thin, waspish faces, they chitter to one another as they shove the food and water through a letterbox gap in each door. Two of the wasp-like aliens catch Jocelyn’s loud cries, and they chitter angrily. They advance on her door and bang violently until she shuts the window with a squawk. One other alien makes noise, and she gets worse treatment. I watch as one of the guards haul her out of her cell, then kick her along the floor whilst the others cheer. Her plaintive mewls are drowned out by the sound of the boots clanking on the metal floor, and the chittering jeers. When one of them starts hitching up the tattered dress, exposing her rear end, I discreetly roll back the window and retreat to my bed.

  For whatever reason, these aliens have not touched the human women like they’ve abused the others. But it can change at any moment. And I’d rather not provoke them. Still, nausea swims through me. The alien woman’s crying silences, though the chitters continue.

  “Assholes,” I mutter.

  Unfortunately, I’m overheard. The food and water rations clutter through my door, but then it’s swung open, revealing one of the wasp-like aliens, black eyes fixated on me. Those eyes travel along my blonde hair, my pale skin. It barks something at me, but I try to ignore it, to pretend like I’m just minding my own business. The alien barks again, and I inhale sharply as he advances and seizes me by the throat. I’m forced to look into his terrifying, monstrous face, before someone roughly hauls him back.

  It’s another one of the aliens, but he’s taller. I recognize him as the captain of the ship. The head slaver. And I hate him even more than the rest. He gives me a sneer through thin red lips, just before he slams the cell door shut.

  I sit there in my bed for a long time afterwards, heart still thumping in fear, unwilling to move. I have to, though. I need to keep up my strength.

  The paste is tasteless, and the water is a block that dissolves upon contact with saliva. It’s not refreshing at all, but it does the job of quenching thirst. I close my eyes, pretend there isn’t people gibbering and moaning just outside the door, that I’m not stuck in this cell with the numb feeling in my body, which only goes away when I force myself to exercise. I’m home, instead. Back on earth, where everything is normal and aliens only existed in movies and books. Each time I go to sleep, I hope I’ll wake up out of the nightmare. But I don’t.

  All I have is my name, Lia Thompson, my heart, my mind, my soul.

  They can’t take that away from me.

  My cell door opens some time later, after a loud, heated conversation outside. Part of me wishes I had a watch, so I could track the passage of time better, but I also know that earth hours and days will be meaningless, if I’m far away from the solar system by now.

  I narrow my eyes at the wasp-like slaver master, and the companion he has beside him. The companion is a new alien, one I haven’t seen before. His skin is a kind of russet brown color, and he has muscles that far outmatch any human I’ve seen. Light brown eyes examine me from a face that has a strange, almost Neanderthal jut to it, except it makes him look oddly attractive. There’s an almost human familiarity about it, because of the facial muscles there that express movement, unlike the slaver’s face which has three modes: neutral, sneering and angry.

  The slaver steps towards me, chittering away to the alien, before I’m roughly hauled up. I struggle sli
ghtly as the alien prises apart my mouth to show my teeth to the newcomer. He holds a strand of my yellow hair, stretches the eye flaps and some of my skin. I’m afraid to move in case he jabs out my eye in a fit of anger. I seriously consider trying to kill him when he lifts up my top, exposing my breasts, then pulls down my pants and panties, blatantly pointing at my nether region as he continues to chatter.

  The light brown alien nods along, though I notice he doesn’t pay me that much attention. His expression is unfathomable, however, giving me no clues into his mindset.

  The wasp bastard is trying to sell me to this alien?

  I’m flung to the side and I hastily pull up my pants again, shivering slightly. I drill a baleful stare into the slaver’s back. If it wasn’t a suicidal move, I’d want to leap onto his back and stab him, over and over. But I’m still left on a ship where I can barely grasp how it functions, and I still have the rest of the crew to wade through.

  Both aliens leave my cell, and the door slams shut. I pace to the door and slide open the window, and see that he’s doing the same for every cell.

  Shortly, I then see around fifteen alien women get escorted out of their cages, perhaps to be sold to that alien. I notice that all the human females are staying.

  Does this mean they don’t want to buy us? Or something else? I consider the treatment we’ve been shown.

  Do they want us for themselves?

  Or do humans fetch a good price? I’ve been given preferential treatment, or as close to it as possible in this hellhole, anyway.

  With all the women gone, apart from the humans, it’s quiet here. Not exactly peaceful, as the distant thrum of the engines resonates through this ship, and it’s not exactly relaxing, given the fact that I’m still trapped, and have been for too long.

  Slight disappointment gnaws through me as well. I think about the brown alien, with his leathery skin, his oddly stretched features. He’s similar in a way to The Incredible Hulk, or an orc, except perhaps not quite as brazenly proportioned. Is he another slaver like the one here? Does he dwell upon our suffering like meat and wine?

  I don’t understand my disappointment, though. I search for a while inside my head before I settle on the realization that I just want things to change. Maybe I won’t like the change, but I don’t want to be some fucking hamster trapped in a ball.

  I’m just drifting off to sleep after another bout of frazzled thoughts, when I hear a commotion. I blink my eyes open, then sit bolt upright when I hear a hissing, sizzling noise, and then see a blue flame boil through the door handle.

  The door clangs open. I see two more brownskin aliens, the same as the one who inspected me earlier, and they scramble for me. One wields a cloth in his hand, and slams it over my mouth and nose before I have time to breathe.

  I scrabble uselessly at his arms, panic inflaming my brain. He holds the cloth, and at first I think he’s suffocating me, but when colors start whorling at the edges of my vision, and their faces begin to swim in and out of focus, I realize, dimly, I’ve been drugged.

  I’m…

  Chapter Two

  Consciousness returns. I gradually adjust to my surroundings, and realize, to my dismay, that I’m in another cell. A nicer one, to be fair. The bed I rest upon has softer covers, and is clean with the scent of fresh laundry. There’s a toilet and shower unit here too, but it’s more spacious. There’s a desk with a chair and a lamp, and when I open one of the drawers, I see there’s paper, and some strange device that looks like an iPad.

  I take out the device, though whatever it is, it doesn’t turn on.

  I drop it in fright when two brown-skin aliens swing open the metal door and roughly seize me about the shoulders, lifting me off the ground with their superior height.

  “For fucks sake! Stop bloody picking me up!”

  They ignore my squirming, my protests, even when I try to clout one of them on the head. Nothing I do has any effect, I am trapped inside an iron curtain.

  When they haul me across a glass lined corridor, up some stairs and into a room which looks suspiciously like a surgery, I begin flailing in earnest. Fuck this shit. Why can’t they just leave me alone? They communicate in guttural grunts, and when I’m put upon a recliner, and I see one of those things picking up a great fucking syringe with a pointy end, full of some weird blue liquid, I start screaming.

  All the aliens look exasperated and annoyed, and it infuriates me further. My screams take on a high-pitched screech.

  No way. I’m not having that thing jabbed into me.

  Suddenly, all the air wheezes out of my lungs, as I’m pinned resolutely down – by none other than the one who inspected me earlier. I glare defiantly into his eyes and spit into his face. He ignores it, locking gazes with me.

  I can’t resist this strength. And, for some reason, his scent is infecting me, wading a way through the fear and empty to stir something, against my will. There’s something else too. I feel strangely lethargic and unwilling to move.

  I think he’s doing more than just pinning me down, but I can’t be sure.

  He addresses the syringe wielder, and my arm is stretched out and clamped still. The alien continues to crush the air out of my lungs, and I cough feebly, wincing as I feel the needle slide in.

  I’m gulping in air now as the alien releases me, and I stare at the red patch, and the puckering of skin and blood where I’ve been stuck.

  I’m then carried back to my new cell and I hang limp in their grasp, because I feel utterly useless. I knew I couldn’t do anything, anyway, but it doesn’t make it any less daunting to see the futility of my actions. The girl who could beat up the boys in school can’t even poke out the eye of a frigging alien. I’m just tossed around like some sort of doll.

  With nothing better to do, I again try to sleep off the despair and irritation. I wake up when I hear someone knock on the door. As in, they’re asking if they can come in.

  I snort to myself. Apparently that sound is enough, as I’m then faced with my new captor.

  “Hello,” he says.

  I pause. “What?”

  The alien nods, even as he places my food and drink ration upon the desk. “You’ve been injected with a code that makes it possible for your brain to translate all the alien languages in our database. It might promote friendlier interaction if we can understand one another.” He gave her what seemed like a smile, the first one she’d ever seen on an alien, before he backed to the door. “You must have a chance to rest. We will speak later.”

  “Wait!” I’m not letting this go. I’ve needed to speak to someone. Anyone. He pauses, and one of his bushy eyebrows pop up.

  “Yes?”

  “Am I a prisoner?”

  “No. But until we can be certain that you have no violent tendencies, we must keep you in this cell.”

  I’m still trying to get past the fact that I can actually understand the alien. I strain hard. Is he speaking English? When he continues talking, I notice there’s a nanosecond delay between his words and the message coming into my brain. He’s talking in his alien tongue, his lips are moving to that language, but I understand the movement as naturally as if he were fluent in English. It’s so bizarre that I end up focusing on this, rather than whatever comforting thing he’s saying to me.

  Comforting? He’s comforting me? I clear my head.

  “Can you explain what is happening to me? Why I’m here? Why I was taken?”

  “You should really get dome rest first before we go through that.”

  “No. Please. I just want to know. It’s been ages since I’ve been able to talk to anyone other than myself. Talking to other people can get you beaten.”

  The alien’s face crinkles in sympathy. His features still have that odd attractiveness about them, but they’re also intimidating. Not something I’m used to. I keep checking him over, all the sensory information in my brain overloading, including processing the language translator and wrapping my head around the foreign words.

  �
�We should probably start with names then. I’m Krizen Vorez, from the planet Fauv, part of the Fauvin system.”

  Uh. “I’m Lia Thompson. From… earth. From…” I realize “solar system” is too vague, “the Milky Way?”

  “Why do you sound so unsure?”

  I figure it best to be honest. I barely know shit about where I am, anyway. “Humans haven’t yet began exploring space properly. We’re sending probes out, but we’re not… there.”

  Krizen snorts in disgust at this info. “Great. You’re from an undeveloped planet.”

  I immediately go on the defensive. “We’re not that undeveloped.”

  Krizen shakes his shaggy head. “It doesn’t matter. In explanation, Lia Thompson from earth, you were taken by alien traffickers. There’s a few hubs in the galaxy that love either taking on slaves or sex slaves. Mardyn Xav – that’s the leader of the Marauder where you were imprisoned, by the way – he wouldn’t sell you for any less than fifty billion credits. You’re the first human he’s ever seen. He thinks he’ll make a fortune.”

  I sigh, folding my arms. I see a dent in his explanation. “Then why did you want us?”

  Krizen smiles. “We’re a non-profit organization that focuses on intercepting suspected slave ships and buying the stock ourselves – to return them to their original planets. We get a lot of donations from planets particularly hit by theft. And, well, when they didn’t want to part with you, I took matters into my own hands.” He glances sideways, as if looking for something. “Mardyn is hot on our heels, now. He wants his money back, but he wants us dead more. So we’re just trying to keep one step ahead whilst we return the aliens back to their municipalities.”

  It sounds too fantastic to be true. A non-profit organization intent on returning people back to their planets? Not that I can even begin to imagine the concept of galactical empires, trading rings, or well, anything like that, really. I’ve only just escaped from a tin bucket cell to be placed in another one, although better designed, with more breathing room, it’s still a cell.