“Stop!” I scream, whimpering. I’m so shocked and petrified, I’m shaking and pleading. “Please. Leave me alone.” I can’t push him off me. He’s lanky and filthy, encrusted with blood and dirt, but seems bent on one thing. He palms my breasts with a savage growl and pins me down with one hand while he tears down his zipper with the other.
“No!” I scream, flailing so hard beneath him my muscles ache, but I can’t push him off me. My voice raises in pitch and takes on a note of hysteria. “Get the fuck off me! Get off me!” I’m screaming but no one’s coming. Where is everyone? Why can’t anyone hear me scream?
My pulse races, and right then, my mind goes to every woman who’s ever been assaulted, to every act of sexual violence we women have endured. I’ve written in support of sexual freedom and women’s rights and in criticism of the patriarchal society that seeks to strip women of their identity. But never, never in my life, have I been in a position like this.
It’s paralyzing. Terrifying.
And I make up my mind. I may not be able to stop him, but I will escape, and when I do, I will kill him. He will pay for this.
I scream with everything I’ve got, until my vocal cords feel like they’re bursting and my throat burns, but he isn’t deterred at all. He throws his head back with a savage howl, and in my crazed, frantic state of mind, I wonder if I’m being attacked by a werewolf.
That isn’t real, my mind says. But this man is little more than a beast.
He raises his hand and slaps my face. The pain radiates to my jaw and I turn to deflect him. He hits me all over the shoulders, the chest, my body, until I’m whimpering beneath him, dizzy and bloodied.
I will kill him.
I’m pinned beneath him with no help for it, too dizzy to deflect his frenzied attack. I can feel him shoving himself between my legs and bile burns at the back of my throat.
“No!” I scream. I gather saliva in my mouth and spit at him, but he doesn’t even bother to wipe it, just glares at me and growls while he clumsily fumbles between my legs. But he isn’t going to take me easily. I will make him hurt for this before I kill him. I’m squirming and twisting beneath him when suddenly, the pressure of his body lightens, and he’s lifted clean off me. I scramble away, unsure of what just happened, but grateful for the momentary reprieve.
I grope for my clothes and yank them back on to cover myself. There are others. Other…men? There’s a frenzy of limbs and snarls like a pack of savage dogs fighting. I scurry for the safety of cover, leaving the animals or men or whatever they are to fight among themselves.
Someone just saved me, but I’m not safe.
I’m balanced on a ledge of some sort, the men are snarling and fighting with vicious kicks, biting and tearing at one another. My mouth falls open in horror. It’s the most savage thing I’ve ever seen. How many even are there?
I should run. I should get back to the ship and leave this place and never look back. It’s cursed, maybe even possessed. My dress is torn, my face throbbing from the assault, and yet I can’t bring myself to run. I’m riveted to the scene in front of me, as if I have to see how this plays out.
I manage to mentally untangle the limbs and bodies so I can decipher there are three men: one, the man with the light brown hair, the rabid savage that tried to rape me; the second, a smaller man with dark hair and a thick black beard, a third; the largest of the lot, lithe but muscled, covered in ink, with sandy blond hair and a thick beard. He’s clearly the alpha, the one they fear the most, and I can see why. He takes the man who attacked me by the hair, holds him, and punches him so hard I can hear the snap of bone.
They resemble dogs fighting more than men, with growls and ferocious tearing of skin and hair. My stomach lurches as the two smaller men suddenly turn on the larger one, but he has a decided advantage. Not only is he bigger, obviously stronger, and fearless, he’s the only one with a weapon. He holds a thick, club-like stick in hand and swings it with sickening accuracy across the head of the man who tried to rape me. He strikes him again and again. I turn away, not able to watch the brutality.
I have to get away.
I’m crawling toward the forest. I have to get away from these savage men. What will happen when the dust settles? Do the other people on the ship know there are violent natives on this island? It isn’t safe. Someone has to warn them.