Please Keep Your Hands Out Of The Enclosure

Please keep your hands out of the enclosure

Fates of the Fateless Ch 11: Got some Dirt in your Eye

TRIGGER WARNINGS: violence against women, attempted sexual assault/non-con, verbal abuse, physical abuse, graphic descriptions of violence and corpses

ao3

wattpad

Daniel becomes a regular at that point, popping in to say hello, a quick drink and sometimes an actual conversation.

“Where you from?” 

“Far far away from here.” Your responses are simple and short.

“New York?”

“Even farther.” 

He was always so pleasant and cool headed. The friendly type. Soon enough he was buying you things. At first it was a meal or two. It was like he had a sixth sense on days you’d skipped meals.                                                                           

“Need to put some meat on your bones.” He’d say.

Along with the extra cash, you could finally afford to bath regularly. Finally feeling more human not covered in days of grime. You almost forgot the face of the young woman under all that dirt.

Sometimes she didn’t look so miserable.

On a dusky evening, he came in with a package, donned with a bow of twine. The display earned you dirty looks from the other women. He never seemed to be interested in what they had to offer. 

You didn’t open it until back at the stables, alone with only the eyes of equines to see what was inside. A new dress with a fine yellow pattern of flowers and a matching pair of new shoes.

“Wow.” You utter, pressing the gown to your form, attempting to visualize it on your body without the help of a mirror. You twist and turn, finding Big Enough’s big brown eyes watching you curiously as he chews a mouthful of hay. “What do you think?” you ask him, “Not bad huh?” you smile.

A whistle comes from the stable owner, an amused look in his eye as he deposits another hay bale in Big Enough’s stall. “When’s the wedding?” He smirks, dusting off his calloused, dirty hands. “You’ll be inviting me won’t you?”

His comment is obviously a joke, but he makes you realize the gesture is… alot. Why was Daniel giving you so much? Why go out of his way to help you out?

“And how’re you big guy?” The stable owner strokes Big Enough’s speckled snout. “Quite a sweet heart this one.” He comments, “You’re sure you want to sell him?”

You smile sadly at the horse, big innocent eyes wandering to inspect the man’s hand for a treat. “Yeah… I can’t take care of him. And he needs to be with other horses, not some… lost idiot.”

“Alright, but you know without papers I can’t pay you full price.”

“That’s fine, as long as you give him a good home.” You sadly give the horse a good pat of your own. Tracing the large black spot over his left eye. You watch the man leave in your peripheral. “You’ll be ok huh?” you ask him. He leans forward, inspecting the dress in your arms before attempting to nibble it. “Hey you trouble maker!” you laugh extending the dress out of his reach. He just attempts to extend his neck further. “Yeah, not much bothers you. I think you’ll do fine out there.” You laugh patting the thick muscles of his neck.

You find your eyes drawn back to the dress, hanging from your arm. The yellow color catching the sunlight and practically radiating like a sunbeam. New and pristine. A distinct lack of stains and holes littering its fabric. You’re mind wandering back to Penelope’s warning.

At first it seemed like it was Samson asking about you. But now…

___________________________________________________________

You could tell he was a little disappointed that you weren’t wearing your new gift. Tension in his jaw, making his face look the slightest bit stiff.

“Hey there, looking a little glum today.” He starts, the disappointment gone from his face and back to the chipper Daniel you’ve come to know.

“Oh yeah, been talking to the stable owner… Gonna have to sell Big Enough.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I could talk to him if-“

“No. That’s ok.” You cut him off, “He deserves better than what I could give him.” You pull away a moment to serve another group of men, before having to face him again. “So, what have you been up to? Coming in later than usual.”

“Nothin’ too exciting. Just some errands.” He slides over a couple of coins. Just enough for his favorite gin. You’re about to ask a follow up question for a little more context, but he drops one of his own. “You ever think of leavin’ here?” The question catches you off guard. Your hand lingers on the glass as you deposit it. Mouth a jar slightly.

“I… never really thought about it.”  You retract your hand, eyes fluttering downward as you ponder. Everything that’s happened up till now has been so sudden and insane, you’ve barely had time to even process any of it.

“I guess I’d like to save up a little more and… maybe move to a bigger town.” You pull a somewhat basic answer from thin air. Baby steps, right?

“And how long do you think that’ll take?” His tone is somewhat pessimistic.

“Uh… well…” you fidget a bit. Your little bit of confidence waning. He watches you squirm for a bit, finally breaking the awkward silence with the clink of his empty glass on the stained wooden bar top. Shuffling around in his pocket, placing a handful of bills for you to take.

“Well, hopefully this will get you a little closer to that goal.” He beams a smile, handsome face wrinkling around his eyes and nose. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be outta here sooner than you think.” He winks. Finally standing and deciding a game of cards will do to pass the time.

You graciously pocket the money, 5 crumpled dollars peeking out at you. Daniel’s seemingly characteristic generosity strikes again.

He never asked for anything in return. No boundaries were ever pushed. Didn’t even make a passing comment on the subject of the dress.

Maybe he was genuinely charitable at heart. Just looking out for the little guy.

So what was the harm in accepting?

After all, you needed a new change of clothes. Hygiene was a must. And of course, you would've only lasted for so long on scraps of food. 

Surely it was platonic. Nothing more.

The evening quickly turns to dusk, Daniel walks you to the stables like he does most nights. He’s telling a story about his younger brother, a time when the two were drinking a bit too much.

“I’m shooting the breeze talkin’ about who the hell knows what. And I look up to find him gone.” He slicks his ashy brunette hair back, placing his hat back atop his head. “I’m stumblin’ around lookin’ for the idiot before I give up and sleep the booze off. And the next morning-Haha!- I wake up needin’ to piss, I swing open the outhouse and there I find Colm’s bare ass-ahahaha! P-passed out, trousers around his ankles, his face flat in the corner. I pissed myself laughing so hard!” You both laugh, though yours is more a soft chuckle, coming to a stop just outside the stable. Laughter subsiding, the two of you grinning in silence. His prominent cheek bones accentuated by his cheshire smile. Usually, he begins his departure at this point, letting you head to bed. The awkward silence ticks on a moment longer. You’re fidgeting. Eyes looking around at the dirt, the wooden stable door, the farrier is inconveniently missing tonight.  Daniel again. He’s closer than you remember.

You catch his eyes darting from your eyes down and back again.

“Um… I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hastily put space between the two of you before his arm shoots out and grabs your forearm.

“Hold on sweetheart. We need to talk.”

Shit.

“A-about what?” you feign ignorance, hell you know exactly where this is going.

“You’ve been actin’ real distant. More than your usual self and I can’t help but wonder if I did something to putcha off.”

You stare at the hand holding your arm, long fingers clutching the meat of your arm firmly. He must take notice and releases his hold. You hastily pull away, eyeing him warily.

“Daniel… Why do you do so much for me?” You finally relent. His mouth opens a moment before shutting. His eyes flitting between yours as he seemingly thinks of what words to properly use in the next tense moments.  

“I’m going to be leavin’ here soon.”

Oh?

“And I want you to come with me.” You stare at him blankly a moment. His hand reaches out to grasp yours, far gentler this time, in his calloused cold fingers. “As my woman.”

There it is.

He finally said it, his intense dilated gray eyes boring boldly into your wide and shocked ones. He brings your hands up to his face and pecks your knuckles with a slightly moist kiss. A peck for each hand.

“Daniel, I-I can’t-we don’t-What?!” You stutter out.

“I want you to be my woman. No more scrounging around for cents and scraps, no more sleepin’ in the stable, and no more workin’ yourself to the bone.” He strokes his fingers over the small cuts and callouses that have developed over your hands. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Daniel I-I can’t-“

“Why not?” He cuts you off, his happy demeanor falling slightly. “You want to be stuck in that whore house serving drinks for the rest of your life?!” His voice is raising. “Hell, you know they’re just waiting for the day they can whore you off like the rest!”

“Daniel-“

“You sold your horse! How do you expect to get out of this dust bowl-“

“Daniel-“

“You won’t have to work another day in your life, just sit pretty and-“

“Daniel!” You shriek, ripping your hands out of his and with it his faces falls. “I don’t even know you! I can’t just drop everything to be with-with a stranger!” You take a few steps back, thankfully he stays in place. Shaking your head, “No, Daniel.” You say firmly. He stares. You dig around in your apron pocket, pulling out the tips he’d given you. Shoving them into his hand, quick to step back to a safe distance. “I do appreciate what you’ve done, cause it’s true. Things have been better with your help. But- But I’m sorry if-if I made it seem like this was anything more than just a friendly acquaintance. But I can’t offer anything more than that.” You want to run away, but you’re stuck there staring him down. Gaging his next move, hands nestled over the gun pressed to your belly.

It feels like an eternity of your eyes darting back and forth between his blank eyes. The brim of his hat finally tilts down and over his face, breaking the contact. He doesn’t say anything, just slowly turns around and walks away. Your eyes laser focused on his back as he slowly disappears into the darkness.

You hide yourself in between the hay bale stacks that night.

Daniel doesn’t show up the next day. Or the next. Or the day after that.

______________________________________________________________

The morning stroll to the saloon was windy, whipping your hair about and into your face. Sputtering grains of sand out of your mouth as you enter. The saloon was surprisingly bare today, only a few stragglers at the bar, fewer at the tables. Hamish is in his corner smoking away with a book in his hands. Mr. Roper is nowhere to be seen. Hamish finally takes notice of you.  

“Boss wants you to record and restock the cellar.”

“Where is everyone?” 

“Storm stirring up, everyone’s hunkering down for the day.” As if to make a point the wind screams as it rattles the windows and saloon doors swing roughly into the frame with a loud

Crack!

You ponder the idea of taking shelter at the stables, have a day off just for you. Spend more time with Big Enough before he’s gone. But at this point Hamish and the girls have seen you. No doubt one of them would snitch. You sigh, kicking away the wooly carpet that’s nestled atop the heavy hatch door, revealing the narrow passage down into the darkness. The air dry and musty. Your feet kick up dirt as you finally meet solid ground. It’s pitch dark. There’s a crummy old lantern collecting cob webs hanging in the corner but of course no one’s bothered to fill it with oil. Leaving you dependent on the hatch opening for any sort of light. Which was a struggle as you were practically always casting a shadow on everything you needed to see. Squinting to make out the logs in the barely held together ledger rotting at the spine.

“Hey bar girl? You down there?” you hear a familiar voice call out for you. A shadow blacks out the entire cellar.

You sigh, “Albert, can you not block the light?” You throw your head back towards the hatch opening to see Albert’s head poking through. “You’re not supposed to be behind the bar!” you scold.

“Well get me a drink and I’ll leave!” He sasses back.

You dig around one the gunny sacks, pulling out 2 beers. “Here!” Thrusting them up and into his face. “Now quit blocking my light.” Albert smiles and graciously takes the drinks into his hands. Finally leaving and allowing light to cascade back into the dark cellar.  

As you work, your mind wanders. Every once and a while you think about the gang. About Tilly. You hope she and the other girls are doing ok. Wonder if Samson told them about you. If he had, why hadn’t they come looking? Maybe what Samson said was true. Maybe they were happy you left…

The light is blocked out again.

“Albert!” You yell, eyes straining to read the ledger. “For the love of God can’t you just ask Hamish-“ The hatch door is pulled closed. “Hey! What the hell!?” You yell angrily, cast in complete black. The distinct sound of someone descending the ladder gives you pause. “Albert?” you ask meekly. Your eyes scan the darkness in vain as you hear heavy feet finally meet the dirt floor. It’s silent. Your own feet slowly back away until your heel accidently bumps into a crate, the glass within clinking against one another. You freeze.

There’s a shape. A large one taking form as your eyes adjust. Eventually you can see the distinct contrast of eyes peering out at you from the blackness.

“Took long enough for that guard dog of yours to leave your side.” The voice that rings out sends a chill down your spine. “Guess the bitch wasn’t in heat.” Samson stands in the darkness, between you and the only way out.

It’s like your feet are welded to the ground, too afraid to move. Eyes darting to and fro to each of his. Unsure if moving would somehow trigger his attack.

“W-whatdoyouwant?” you hate how weak your voice comes out. Barely registering as a sound and more like a hoarse whisper. Your hands find themselves to your stomach, grasping at the solid gun hidden under fabric. Sloowwly attempting to unravel the apron without bringing his attention to your motive. Samson’s eyes continue to bore into yours, unmoving, unblinking. They remind you of a corpse.

When he finally speaks it makes you jump so harshly your teeth clink shut and your vision loses him for a moment.

“I want, what’s been denied of me.” His voice is vicious and sharp. Spitting out each word with animosity. Like the strike of a viper.

You know exactly what he wants. A thousand disgusting and dehumanizing thoughts fill your head, each image worse than the last. Your control on your fear is crumbling away with each passing second. Your chest is heaving with each breath, eyes rapidly blinking away tears and every part of your body is shaking violently. Your fingertips finally feel the cold steel and a feeling of desperation takes hold.

“I don’t owe you SHIT you SICK FUCKER!” you shriek, whipping the gun forward and a sharp Bang! echoes off the stone walls. Light illuminates everything for a quick second and descending back into muddled darkness. Everything’s a blur. You’re not sure you managed to pull the trigger again before you find yourself slammed into the hard, cold, dusty floor.

Your eyes go out of focus, and your lungs struggle to take in a breath.

The gun, where’s the gun?!

You don’t feel it in your hand anymore. Hands and fingers blindly feeling around, only to be stalled painfully in their place.

“You Fuckin’ BITCH!”  Samson’s rotten hot breath spits into your face. Oh, dear God how did he manage to get on top of you so fast?! You feel something hot and wet drip onto your neck. “FUCK that hurts!!” he hisses. You’re thrashing around violently. Trying desperately to get away. Crying, screaming, swearing, making all sorts of incoherent noise. But you remain trapped underneath his heavy frame. His knee deliberately digging into your stomach making it difficult to breath.

“GETOFFGETOFFYOUMOTHERFUCKERRAAAAAHHH!!!” You turn your head to one of his hands holding your arms, teeth gnashing and gripping his salty flesh and tearing with all your might. The taste of copper spills onto your tongue.  

“ENOUGH!” he roars, you see stars as a brute force knocks your head to the side. Your entire face burns with pain, and you’re shocked into stillness just long enough for him to engulf your neck with is massive hands. “I wanted to know what kinds of sounds you’d make, the faces I’d get to see.” He squeezes tightly, your eyes bulge and your hands claw at his. “Would’ve rather been able to fuck you alive…” your mind reels in panic, you can feel your pulse drumming painfully around his grip. “All you’re fucking good for! All you sluts!” Struggling in vain to pry his much stronger hands off of you before a whisper of a thought manages to slip into your subconsciousness. Hands finding his face, scratching as he turned his head side to side trying to deter your efforts. Your thumbs finally catch the corners of his eyes and you strike. Jabbing them in like daggers as deeply as possible.

“RRAARGH!” He screams in agony; One of his hands flies off of you relieving his grip’s force just enough to allow your lungs a gracious gulp of air. As much as you want to allow yourself a moment to just breath, it would be a death sentence. Limply you roll away from his other hand, still preoccupied with nursing his damaged eyes. You swing your leg upwards, confirming you hit true to your target as he doubles over and wails.

Get to the ladder

You’re nails claw at the dusty floor, heaving yourself forward toward your one possible escape. If you can just get within range for someone to at least hear you.

Couldn’t they hear me?

Bloody fingers catch the wooden bars, pulling yourself up, desperate to get out of this literal hell hole. Beyond the darkness, behind the ladder your eyes catch something in the shadows. Your body freezes.

The darkness is looking back.

A pair of eyes, staring into you. Dark and narrow. Simply watching. A face begins to materialize, and it’s one you recognize.

Daniel.

Just staring at you. Face empty and cold. Staring.

“Help…” you speak softly, “Please help me…” You struggle to pull the rest of your body up the ladder, stopped by a hand gripping your blouse and practically ripping the entire back open as Samson slams you back down onto the hard cold ground. “HeLp… me…” you gasp out before coughing uncontrollably. 

“Oh now you’re beggin’ for mercy? Too late for that now you fuckin’ slut!” Samson swings a kick into your ribs, the blow leaving you breathless, sharp pain coming in waves sending your vision white. You wait for the next blow. Disoriented, your body instinctively curls up in an attempt to diminish the pain and whatever damage was done. The sound of something wet hitting stone pulls you out of your shock a moment. A gurgle and a thud. Followed by a consistent sound you couldn’t quite identify.

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!

Maybe even more confusing was the stall in Samson’s assault. Vision finally came back into focus.  There’s movement in your peripheral, and the strange sound continues.

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!

Your limbs are dead weight as you struggle to move yourself, settling for simply rolling towards the strange movement. Your eyes find Daniel. Hovering over Samson swinging his arm down over and over and over again. A large knife clutched in his grip, the blade sinking deeply in Samson’s flesh as he lay limply on the floor. He’s already dead, there’s no way he isn’t. But Daniel doesn’t stop. You just stare. His eyes never leave his target, face blank and emotionless as if he wasn’t using another human being as a pin cushion. 

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk! Shunk! 

The sound finally stops. Uncomfortably quiet. Daniel glaring down at his kill, knife now still and wedged deeply in human flesh.

His gaze finds yours over his shoulder. Staring. 

You don’t register his movement until hands are cradling your head, pushing your hair back as a flask is pushed to your lips.

“Cooome on girly.” You struggle to turn away from the mystery liquid that burns your throat, a small bit entering your esophagus in a coughing fit. “There we go.” Daniel manages to lift you up and over his shoulder as you continue to spew horrendous heaving coughs. Your lungs wheezing painfully. Your vision full of white spots and a ringing in your ears. Obscuring an exchanging of words. Your eyes finally focus to find the familiar wooden floor of the saloon, drifting as your hauled out through the entrance.

“Got a body downstairs. Take care of it.” Daniel speaks again, to who you’re not sure. “Once this storm dies down, folks’ll be pokin’ around.” Your gently laid down onto the wooden surface of the saloon’s outdoor stairs, a hand creeps its way up your back causing your breath to stutter and your body braces itself. “Bastard tore it.” Daniel clicks his tongue, fiddling with the yellow fabric clinging on by a thread. “Knew it’d fit you like a glove.” His eyes crinkle with a smile, specks of blood linger on his cheeks like gory freckles. “But don’tcha worry sweetheart, plenty more where this came from.”

He was there the whole time…

Your stomach lurches, you scramble to the side, the burning of acidic vomit travels your esophagus and you’re spilling your guts into the dusty alley way.

You can hear him chuckle, “Right, well get it all out now. Rather you not throw up on me once we hit the road.” You hurl some more.

“Danny!” Someone calls his attention. You spit the remnants of vomit from your mouth, bracing yourself with the wooden beam of the building. Your watery eyes peeking under your arm.  The familiar faces of some of the brothels best and most popular girls are amongst the group of men, but not with their usual charming smiles. They look scared. Body posture curled in on themselves, a look of panic on their faces waiting to break the service. One of them screams as the body of Samson is finally drug out, taking two men to haul his bloody corpse.

You gag at the sight of the bloody meaty holes littering his chest. And his disgusting bloodshot, dead glazed eyes fall in your direction.

“Oh my God!OHMYGOD!” one of the girls shrieks, her body twisting and turning blindly in a panic.

“Calm down, I’m sure you’ve fucked worse to get a dollar.” One of the men quips, only the other men laugh. The other girls becoming more agitated.

“NONONO!” the panicky girl stutters, pulling viciously out of her captors arms, “NOO!NOOO!AAAAA-!” her screams are put to rest by a rough swing of a fist to her face. You flinch at the sound the contact makes. The other girls cry out in alarm as their friend lies in the dirt nursing a bloody busted lip and more than likely a busted tooth or two.

“Quit playing with the whores and give us a hand!” the cleanup crew yells over the harsh wind. One of them sputters, trying to get sand out of his mouth. The storm was getting worse.

It’s now or never.

You take a shaky step, eyes lingering on the group. Then another and another. You’re nearly out of the alley way.

“Heyheyhey…” you hear Daniels protests, “Hey!” He shouts as you break into a run. “STOP!” the dust bombards your eyes; you can barely open them. And when you could they proved useless, the insistent plague of sand and dirt in the air acted as a blanket of red static. Feet pounding violently forward entering wild uneven terrain. Hearing the muffled cries of Daniel and potentially others in his group lost in the piercing wind.

Running

Running

Running

The grit of sand in your mouth, in your shoes, in your eyes. The ache of your still fresh wounds out of your mind.

Running

Running

Running

Until your next step finds nothing.

And your falling

Falling

Falling

so i've been playing a game

I have deep love for the cat.

israel is on the brink of starting a broader regional war on multiple fronts with many people in the government expressing the explicit desire to annex those lands, along with completely wiping out the 2 million people theyve trapped in a ghetto and are now keeping people indefinitely in torture camps, all while the extremely racist israeli population viciously attacks anyone in civil society who doesnt also support the genocide and insist that theyre the victims and the whole world is against them all while every western power appeases them and gives them the materials to carry out their genocide but yeah, its not appropriate to compare israel to nazi germany

Lines