The Stranger (Outlander FanFic)

2. The Cabin.

I heard voices... they were singing. It was a strange language, I don't know what language at all. This wasn't my domain in languages. I did know it was an old language or at least not commonly spoken. Anyway it made me relaxed and dreamy. What was happening? Where am I Am I dead?"  With a shock I woke up.  "Jesus Eve, you dramatic egg," I mumbled slowly. I was lying on the ground, my face with one side in the soft, wet grass. I moved a little bit and I felt sick. I was dizzy, my head felt like it could burst within seconds and my back and legs seemed not to work. I reached to my face and when I touched my nose it was really sensitive. I could taste the blood on my lips. I used my sleeve to wipe my nose and mouth clean and sighed loudly. "You egg," I snapped quietly when I looked at my blooded white sleeve, "could have better used the coat's sleeve." I told myself. 

I pushed myself from the ground and groaning I stood up straight, trying to find my balance. The night had almost fallen completely, my eyes were adjusting to the darkness. The light of the moon was shining through the trees on the stone in front of me. I grabbed my purse of the ground and cleansed it by patting it. It was a bit colder than it was a few hours ago and I really wanted to go back to the B&B as soon as possible, for it was awfully quiet and I felt utterly uncomfortable. I was walking off to the road I came from and I looked down the hill. I only saw a few lights and relatively small group of houses. "Inverness?" I asked myself breathlessly. I heard footsteps behind me and with a jerk I turned around and faced a man in a kind of red army coat. "Ah, a person!"  I said with relief and I looked to the man from head to toe, "Is there a LARP-event going on here or something?"  I laughed nervously, "Cuz you do look quite ridiculous." I touched the sleeve of the coat. "It is a beautiful costume though."  The man smiled to me and within a second, I felt his fist hitting my stomach. The air escaped me and I fell on the ground, coughing, gasping for air. "Don't you," he said and he kicked me with his boot on my back, "make fun," he kicked again, "of me," another kick, "again!" he kicked hard for the last time and I was panting on the floor with tears in my eyes. He kneeled down next to me and hit me hard on the bum. I didn't make a single noise. His hands were running over my body and felt my leggings getting ripped of my legs. I couldn't move. I was powerless. I took a deep breathe and closed my eyes. 

When he was done, he held his face close to mine, I felt his cold and stinky breathe in my face. "You are pretty for a Scot... so don't worry that I'll kick you in the face." he whispered in my ear. He had an English accent. "I am not a Scot," I said quietly, "I am Dutch, I am traveling through Scotland, I didn't -" He interrupted me instantly.  "Now listen, you come with me now, and if you say anything about this, I will strangle you to death, you understand?" I nodded slowly and he pulled me on my feet. I felt quite sore down there, and my back felt like broken and every step I took hurt me. It was a 15 minute walk, when we finally arrived at a camp. I saw horses, tents, campfires and men all dressed like the man who took me. "Poor girl, what happened to her?" One of the soldiers asked the man that was holding my arm. "The poor lamb was raped and assaulted by the Jacobites.... She's lucky I found her." I now looked the man straight in the face. He had dark hair and brown eyes. He disgusted me. "Give her a hot drink and a blanket." 

"Yes officer Randall."  The soldier replied and he took me to a big tent. Everything was old in that tent and I was thinking about the words that man told me. "Dark and old magic." I must be dreaming. I saw some letters lying on the table text to my chair. I looked closely at one and I my stomach turned terribly. I didn't look at the exact date, only at the year and I already knew enough: 1742. "Here you go miss," the soldier smiled at me and gave me a tin cup with a kind of bouillon in it. "Thank you."  I said with a small voice. He was quite young, not much older than me and he looked a bit peaky, seemed like he didn't want to be here at all. "Those clothes are... strange." He said when he looked at it. "Where are you from?" Randall walked in. "I'll do the investigation, thank you Murphy." Murphy stood up and he gave me a little nod and he walked away. I followed him with my eyes as he walked passed Randall. I looked furiously at him. Randall grabbed a chair and he placed it in front of me. He sat down and smiled at me. "What does a whore doing on the road so late at night? Shouldn't you be working?"  He asked. I raised my hand and slapped him in the face. "How dare you, you swine!" I snapped. His hand reached for my throat and his fingers pierced in it. "The only thing I have to do is squeeze very hard."