Most people long for embrace, they want to be held tight and kept safe, but at this moment, embrace was the last thing I wanted.

  Whatever had grabbed me from behind had a grip tighter than a boa constrictor, I couldn’t shake free no matter what I tried. My little legs kicking, and my upper body struggling, made no difference to whatever had caught me by surprise. Typically, I’d escape such a situation with ease, my opponent would fall to their knees and plead as I ripped their life away from them with one gentle squeeze of my trigger.

  This time, however, I was a little smaller, incapable of fighting back against whatever beast had taken hold of me. I tried to yell and scare it off, but my whole face had been covered by its hairy paw, or whatever appendage it was holding me down with. It certainly felt hairy, but no matter what it was, its strength had to be incredible!

  A voice grunted out something from behind me, I couldn’t make out what it was so it must have been the beast’s roar. It was truly a guttural noise, deep and booming. Yet for some reason, the bass that emanated from behind was soothing?

  Again, the thunderous voice let out a slow sound, it was almost like it was speaking words. This time, I decided to fall for the soothing tone of this particular siren’s call. Removing the tenseness from my limbs, I nearly slumped back into my captor. At this show of faith, the dim moonlight returned to my eyes and I was tossed into a corner, falling on my bum.

  As my eyes adjusted back to having some light, they fell upon a moonlit figure. Standing high above me was a man, well-built and hairy. He was dressed in some strange outfit that was a mix of lightweight cloth and scrap-metal plating. He was tall and muscular, a true man’s man. On his belt he carried many items, some were concealed, while others were revealed by the pale lighting.

  To contrast everything else I’d seen, his bearded face was friendly and calm, equipped with a pair of specs with cracking lenses. He smiled warmly and slowly began to speak, letting out that soothing, yet absurdly deep voice that I had heard previously. He spoke slowly and held his hand out in front of him, trying for some kind of peaceful gesture.

  After taking in the sight of the man who stood before me, my eyes found a new target to look at. On the other side of the room, sitting on the sand sprinkled floor, was my firearm. The faint blue glow that it gave off had attracted my eyes to that spot.

  My sight drifted from the sidearm to the man, and back again. After a few repeats of this, the man, too, looked in the direction of the sidearm. I would have used this opportunity to attack him, but the way I was manhandled previously had scared the fight out of me. The only mode I had left was “freeze”.

  The muscular frame in front of me moved slightly to the left to conceal the weapon from my sight. He crouched down further and held out both hands, saying a few more lines. I must’ve looked visibly confused (as I was), because it then seemed to click in his eyes that I did not understand his speech. The man pointed at himself and said something gibberishy, but I got the point that he was introducing himself. He repeated what sounded like, “Yaeleth”, over and over until I said it myself.

  My small, squirrel-like voice completely wrecked my brain as it came out, scaring me into stuttering. I had not been talking the entire trip, seeing as I had had no one to communicate with, so I was definitely not used to whatever had just escaped my lips. I repeated his name to him while pointing in his general direction, my miniature arm extending out with the sleeve drooping over it, I must’ve shrunk again.

  He seemed visibly pleased to hear his presumed name come out of my mouth, but he seemed to want something more. He once again said his name while touching his chest and then reached out toward me. I guessed he was asking for a name in response. I opened my mouth to give him an answer, but my name escaped me. Perhaps I was losing my memory a bit, but it could have also been since I’d been called by my rank since I was ten. Either way, I couldn’t give him an answer for now, so I shook my head, not knowing whether that would translate on this planet or not.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  My gesture seemed to do the trick, as he stopped inquiring in that same line of questioning, but he moved to something a lot scarier next. He slowly backed up, keeping me in his sight the whole time. I dared not move an inch as he reached down behind him and picked up my weapon. My eyes went wide with fear, there was no way he knew how dangerous that thing was, and if he did, what did he plan to do with it?

  As the glowing object was pulled up toward his chest, he finally shifted his gaze from me, to it. I still couldn’t move, both from shock, and from the fact that at the first noise on this silent night, he’d notice my movement.

  He slowly twirled the sidearm in his two hands, inspecting every detail with great care and caution. I was starting to think that he at least vaguely knew what he was holding. After giving the weapon a few more turns, he seemed satisfied with his inspection. He found the highest box he could on his tower in the corner and set the weapon inside of it carefully before turning to another box.

  Before he lifted the lid of this box, he pulled a knife out of one of the many sheaths on his belt. My heart beat faster at this motion, he hadn’t shown signs of aggression yet, but maybe he just wanted to tear me apart piece by piece, like those bandits had to RAIF. Shortly after pulling the knife, he set it on the ground next to him, opening up the box he had previously decided on. His large hands, wrapped in the aforementioned cloth, reached down into the box, rifling through a bit before deciding.

  His hands lifted out of the box, I winced at whatever torture device he had presumably just grabbed, but instead he held what looked to be a bundle of thread and a sewing needle. Huh? I thought, What’s he gonna do, sew my eyes and mouth shut? Now that idea truly terrified me, not much I would be able to do against his superior might.

  He turned and casually strode over to me, now carrying thread and needle in one hand and his knife in the other. He then promptly got down on one knee, not more than a half meter away from me and reached out toward me after setting his things down.

  The motion of his hand toward me seemed insanely slow, but perhaps that was the liquid fear running through my veins at the moment. I tried to move back from his grasp, but my legs wouldn’t move so I couldn’t scoot further into the corner. Eventually, his hands contacted my underarms. I felt very demeaned as he picked me up like one picks up a toddler and set me on my feet.

  Even down on his knee, the man was still quite a bit taller than me. Speaking of knees, mine were shaking rapidly, obviously a natural response after that set of events. I remained silent and looked into the man’s eyes, trying to discern their color in the slowly encroaching darkness, but the effort was futile. I winced and closed my eyes as he approached my arm with his knife. He was going to cut my hand off for sure. No, he’d go finger by finger to make it more painful. My thoughts had no good to them when it came to this stranger, but reality played out differently.

  I heard the noise of cloth ripping, no, cloth being sliced away. I felt the end of the sleeve on my left arm fall away, but my body felt no pain. Suddenly, the now familiar low voice started humming. I slowly let my eyes open as the man now started to sing slowly and quietly, the notes calmed the tension of the room. I looked down and my knees were no longer shaking, instead they held my little body still and supported me well.

  The song the man was singing sounded like some kind of lull-a-bye, but I guess that wasn’t important, because whatever it was it was serving its purpose. The man slowly and carefully cut around my arms and legs, making sure to only contact material and not flesh. After he finished cutting he looked at me in my eyes and smiled wide before continuing his song.

  He then pulled a lone box over and put his hand out flat with two of his fingers on top, signaling a sitting motion. I compliantly sat down on the box and waited for the man to continue what he was doing. Before I knew it he had added a new hem to all of my clothing.

  The sleeves on my shirt had been cut so short that they now acted as straps to hold the rest of the shirt over me like a dress. He had re-hemmed the bottoms of my pant legs as well, but they still didn’t fit me around the waist, there’d be no fixing that. He did help me get my belt through all the loops multiple times though, even adding yet another extra hole.

  After he had completed all this, I realized how tired I was. I yawned and rubbed my eyes and before I knew it, he had picked me up in a princess-carry and carried me to his cot. I was so drowsy that I couldn't have cared less about the absolute embarrassment of that, luckily. He laid me down on the cot and covered me over with the thin blanket that had been laid on top.

  He then went over and closed the tent flap shut, making it so only the slightest light could enter in. I heard him sit down and shift one of the box towers next to the cot before I drifted off to sleep. What a crazy day... the final thought of the day entered before everything faded to black.