Chapter 11 Noelle
NOELLE
Noelle felt sick and the cold seemed to fill her.
Not just the kind of cold that made goosebumps rise on her arms and her teeth chatter uncontrollably—but a deep, internal chill that settled into her chest and refused to leave. Like someone had scooped out her insides and filled the hollow space with ice.
She rubbed her arms, but it didn’t help.
Dios, it’s freezing!
The alien metal beneath her feet was slick and unforgiving, like it had been forged in some arctic hell and never quite warmed up since. The walls were the same—dull gray metal, streaked with grime and rust—patchy with places that looked disturbingly like dried blood.
The corridor echoed with sounds she couldn’t block out—low moans…ragged sobs…the occasional gut-wrenching scream that made her heart leap into her throat. Somewhere in the distance, someone was crying out in a language she didn’t recognize—pleading, over and over.
The lights overhead flickered every so often, casting long shadows that danced across the metal walls and floors like ghosts.
God…what is this place? What kind of ship is this?
Noelle knew the answer—she just didn’t want to say it out loud.
They were trapped in a slave ship…a prison ship. And they were stuck in this cell. It reminded her of an animal cage, but at least animal cages had bedding…food bowls…water.
This place had nothing.
The barren cell was barely large enough for the three of them to stand side by side, and there was no furniture at all—just more bare, freezing metal. The walls sweated with condensation and smelled like mold and fear.
Noelle huddled close to Bright and Burn, needing their massive heat just to keep her fingers from going numb. She could feel Bright’s warmth at her side, steady and strong, and Burn’s big frame behind her like a wall of protection. But even their presence couldn’t stop the shaking.
This can’t be real. This isn’t happening. I’m not on an alien prison ship. I’m not about to be sold at some… some Flesh Bazaar. That’s not even a thing that should exist!
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and closed her eyes.
But the darkness only made the noises louder.
Screams…moans…and under them, a low buzz of something metallic pumping endlessly.
Tears pricked at her eyes.
Please, Blessed Virgin, I just want to go home…
She didn’t know how long they stood there, huddled together with the noise of Bright and Burn’s manacles sizzling and crackling faintly. It might have been minutes…or it might have been hours. Time didn’t work right in a place like this.
Then she heard footsteps…soft, squelching footsteps and the high-pitched hum of the locking mechanism releasing.
The door opened with a creak, and in stepped the strangest little man Noelle had ever seen.
He was short—he barely came up to Burn’s ribs—and round in a way that made him look like a living balloon.
His skin was bright orange, almost tangerine, and his eyes were neon green, like a glow stick cracked open.
But the most shocking part was the massive puff of white hair that sprang from the top of his head, twisted into a high, absurd swirl that reminded Noelle instantly of cotton candy.
What in the hell? she wondered, staring at the little man.
“Well, well, now what have we here?” the orange dwarf said, clasping his tiny hands together and giving the three of them an appraising look.
They all stared at him in silence as he began to circle them slowly, like a jeweler inspecting flawed diamonds.
“Hmm, well the two of you are looking good,” he said, nodding at Burn and Bright with an approving grin. “That big, muscly warrior look is popular with lots of buyers—especially the Mistresses of Yonnie Six. You’ll need new outfits, of course, but that’s easily managed.”
Burn made a low, rumbling sound in his chest—dangerous and unamused.
The little man ignored him. Then his gaze landed on Noelle and his lip curled slightly in disapproval, like he was looking at a scratched piece of furniture.
“But you, my dear,” he said, shaking his head, “you need a makeover. In fact, you need one desperately.”
Bright stepped closer to Noelle, frowning.
“What?”
Burn’s voice dropped an octave as he growled,
“Stay the fuck away from her, little man.”
“Now, now—let’s not get all hot and bothered,” the alien said, raising both hands in a universal don’t shoot gesture.
“I’m not going to hurt your lady—I just want to make her presentable for the auction at the Flesh Bazaar.
The better she looks, the more likely it is that the three of you will be sold to an affluent master or mistress—rather than a poor one who’s likely to whore the three of you out. Surely you can see that?”
Noelle’s stomach dropped.
Auction. Oh God. Are we really going to be sold like cattle? And was it really possible that whoever bought them would want to use them as sex slaves? She didn’t even want to think about it.
“What are you planning to do to me?” she asked, trying not to let her voice tremble.
The orange dwarf grinned at her.
“Why, let me see.” He circled her again, those neon-green eyes flashing like lasers.
“A new outfit, that’s a given. But also, I think we could use a full rejuvenation treatment.
You’re pretty enough—for your age, my dear—but we can do better.
Let’s see if we can’t take at least ten years off you.
Also, a fertility treatment, I think. Some breast enhancement, perhaps.
At least your hips are nice and wide already—lots of buyers like a slave with child-bearing hips. ”
“I… I’m too old to start having babies!” Noelle protested, her voice rising despite herself.
“Right now you are,” the alien agreed. “But we can change that.”
He reached for her arm.
Burn moved so fast he was a blur—putting his huge body between them with a snarl. Bright stepped in beside him, fists clenched.
“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Bright snapped.
The alien sighed dramatically.
“I said, I’m not going to hurt her—quite the contrary! She’ll feel like a new woman when I’m done with her. Please don’t make me get the guards. If I have to ask them to restrain you, all three of you will lose your food, water, and bathroom privileges. And that’s no fun now, is it?”
Noelle’s ears perked up.
Bathroom?
She hadn’t seen a single toilet since they got here.
Dios, she already had to pee and there was nowhere—nowhere—in this freezing metal box to go.
“Come now,” the orange dwarf said coaxingly. “If the three of you are good, I’ll have your non-contact manacles removed so you can be comfortable tonight. You can all cuddle up without shocking each other.”
“No fucking way,” Burn growled.
“Our lady stays with us,” Bright said firmly.
But Noelle stepped out from behind them.
“It’s all right—I’ll go with him.”
“My lady, are you sure?” Bright asked, clearly distressed.
Noelle looked the alien dead in his neon-green eyes.
“Is anything you’re going to do to me going to hurt me?”
“Not a bit, my dear. In fact, you’re going to feel fabulous when I’m finished with you!”
Fabulous, she thought dully. What a strange word to use in a place like this.
She lifted her chin.
“Then I’ll go with you, as long as you take off their manacles.”
She nodded toward Bright and Burn.
“We’ll have them removed as soon as I bring you back,” the little man promised. “You have my word on it.”
“All right.” Noelle nodded. “Then I’ll go.”
“Noelle, you don’t have to do this,” Bright said quickly.
“Just say the word and we’ll fuck this guy up,” Burn growled.
“No, it’s all right.”
She took a deep breath as she lectured herself. Just keep your cool. You’ve handled worse. You’ve survived worse. Think about Branson.
If she could survive years of being married to her abusive ex, she could certainly make it through an alien makeover.
“It’s going to be fine. I’ll be back in a little while,” she assured Burn and Bright. Neither of them looked happy about it, but they didn’t try to contradict her or stop her.
“Be safe, sweetheart,” Bright murmured.
Burn just glared.
Noelle nodded at both of them and followed the little man out of the cell.
Her footsteps echoed like drumbeats down the corridor, and the cell door closed behind her with a final hiss.
For some reason, the sounds made Noelle uneasy.
Blessed Virgin help me, she thought. Please don’t let this be a mistake.