74 Bedtime horror stories

Priscilla clenched her fists as she began to recount her experiences on the ship. She said that the ship had been sailing for over a month and had stopped in different places. With every new place that it stopped new passengers were added to the ship. Priscilla was one of the few literate slaves as her previous owner in Great Britain had ensured that she learn how to read and write. She talks about her old master with respect. Due to losing his land, her previous master was forced to sell his slaves in order to be able to save his house. Priscilla seemed quite fond of her previous master.

"Mr. Wellington did not treat us as slaves. Miss Mila, he reminds me quite of yourself. He had always believed and treated us as his family. Whenever there would be labor work in the fields he would cultivate alongside us. We had breaks, nice beds, and good living conditions. None of us slaves were ever beaten, or insulted. If a situation were to occur he would scold us in a knowledgeable way. He truly was a good master. Even when he sold us, he had believed that he had given us to kind master such as himself as Master Johannes had convinced him that he would provide us with kind conditions."

I sighed as my pain seemed to slightly abate. My eyes slid over to watch Priscilla caress her sleeping daughter's hair. I smiled.

"Priscilla, did you ever manage to eavesdrop or find out where you guys are going?"

Priscilla stroked her chin before saying.

"I have once heard the Master say to his advisor that they were planning to take us to the States."

I inhaled sharply.

Holy Fuck.

That was the worst possible place that they could go. Despite my pain I sat up.

"Priscilla, whatever happens, the three hundred of you should not go to the States."

Priscilla tilted her head in confusion.

"But Miss Mila, the Master said that in the States there are better conditions. Slaves only have to work for some time before they become free men."

I frowned. That was true only for the beginning of slavery which had begun in 1619. But towards the end of the sixteenth century, slavery had become a terrible, abusive ordeal. The possibility of becoming a free man had diminished. I sighed. If I were to save these three hundred people would I be changing history?

As frustration filled me, an idea creeped into my mind. I winced as I struggled to stand. Priscilla came to my side and held my arm as I cried out in pain from the lashes. They still stung even after two days.

"Priscilla where are the two that came with me?"

"Master had placed them in the guest rooms towards the higher levels of the ship."

"How many levels are there on this ship?"

"Three levels miss Mila."

I nodded. Quite typical of a transport ship.

"Priscilla are we near where the other three hundred passengers are?"

Priscilla nodded as a look of concern came on her face.

"Yes, we are. They are all in the room next door."

I smiled. Before doing anything rash I had to confirm everything with my own eyes. Once I do that I

can be assured of the validity of my plan.

"Okay Priscilla, I would like you to take me to the room next to us."

"I can't miss Mila. Multiple passengers are sick, you might contract what they have."

"Priscilla, I need to do this. Haven't you already placed your trust in me to help you guys?"

Priscilla bit her lip as she pondered. She then nodded and helped me walk.

I shook my head. This was well worth the risk. I need to understand the severity of the situation so I could know how to act. Priscilla held me up as I forcefully moved my stinging legs which were purple and bruised from the lashes. The room was indeed small and dusty as I have suspected. The lull of the ship moving on the water under us made my nausea intensify.

My God, how were the other passengers dealing with this motion?

As we reached the door and turned the knob of the room a familiar voice called out.

"My dear Mila. Where do you think you're going?"

Holy Fuck.

Of all the sons of a bitches to deal with now. Could this day get any shittier?

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