Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 56: Lady in Red Dress

The night air was cool and crisp, brushing gently against their skin like a lover’s whisper. The ocean spread wide in every direction, its black surface shimmering with the reflection of the moon. The stars stretched endlessly overhead, scattered across the velvet sky in quiet constellations. It was peaceful—strangely so.

The group had found themselves gathered once more above deck, unable to sleep. The rhythmic creaking of the ship and the gentle sway beneath their feet were oddly comforting, and after the long, tense days they’d had, this quiet moment felt like the first breath of relief in a while.

Liam leaned against the wooden railing, staring out into the vast sea, his eyes heavy with thought. Jason sat cross-legged near a coil of ropes, lazily flicking one of his bolts into the air and catching it again with practiced ease. Marcus, sober now but looking restless, was pacing slowly beside them, occasionally pausing to gaze at the stars or stretch his arms. Sophia and Eleanor stood a little apart, side by side near the bow of the ship, their cloaks wrapped around them tightly as they enjoyed the cool breeze rolling off the water.

"I’ll admit," Eleanor said, inhaling deeply, "this is the one thing I’ve missed... clean air."

"Yeah," Sophia nodded, her voice softer. "It almost makes you forget we’re sailing to gods-know-where with a dwarf, a shady guide, and a captain who smells like fermented death."

They both chuckled quietly.

But then, something changed.

A sound—so soft it was almost missed—rose from the stairwell leading below deck. Not the harsh stomp of boots or the clanking of tools. No, this was something lighter, stealthier. Bare feet brushing against wood. A presence trying not to be noticed.

Liam instinctively turned, his eyes narrowing toward the shadows. The others caught his movement and followed his gaze.

Then, from the darkness, she appeared.

The breath in Liam’s throat hitched.

Jason dropped his bolt. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Marcus stopped pacing mid-step, his mouth slightly open.

Even Sophia and Eleanor turned sharply, their expressions shifting from curious to... stunned.

She stepped fully into the moonlight, and for a moment, it was like the world slowed.

A woman.

Elegant. Draped in a flowing red dress that clung tightly to her generous curves. The fabric shimmered slightly as it moved with her, hugging her waist and hips before cascading around her legs like water. Her neckline was scandalously low, revealing a deep valley of full, perky cleavage that glowed under the moon’s soft caress. Her long black hair hung loose down her back, a few strands fluttering in the wind, and her bare shoulders shimmered as though kissed by starlight.

Her face was delicate and sharp at the same time. High cheekbones, full lips painted a bold red, and piercing green eyes that darted around nervously as she climbed further up the stairs. For a moment, she looked like a noblewoman stepping out onto a ballroom floor... not the deck of a weather-beaten pirate vessel.

Liam was the first to speak, but his voice was low and confused. "Who...?"

The woman paused. Her hand gripped the wooden railing beside her tightly. It was clear from her posture—she wasn’t supposed to be here. Her movements were cautious, almost fearful, and her eyes flicked constantly toward the helm, scanning for someone.

"She’s sneaking," Jason muttered. "She’s literally sneaking up."

"Where the hell did she come from?" Marcus added, his tone more stunned than aggressive.

Sophia narrowed her eyes. "Below deck? How long has she been hiding?"

It wasn’t just the group that noticed her. The crew—men who had been going about their business, tying down sails, keeping watch, or lazily leaning on barrels—suddenly stiffened.

Their heads snapped toward the woman, and as one, the men froze.

One crew member dropped the rope in his hand. Another stepped back so suddenly he almost tripped over a coil. A third man let out a muffled curse, staring wide-eyed at the figure as if she were a ghost from his past.

The woman saw the reaction.

She quickly stepped forward, her voice low but pleading. "Please don’t tell him. Not yet."

Liam frowned. "Tell who?"

Her eyes widened when she realized she had spoken out loud. She bit her lip and straightened her back, trying to reclaim some dignity. But the damage was done. The crew already knew.

"Shit," one of them muttered. "She’s done it again."

Ander hadn’t come up yet, but the tension on deck was crackling now.

"Someone please explain who the hell she is," Eleanor asked, glancing between the stunned sailors and the beautiful woman standing in front of them.

The woman turned her head slightly, her voice softer now. "I’m not here to cause trouble... I just didn’t want him to leave without me."

Jason blinked. "Wait... you know the captain?"

The woman sighed and nodded once. "Yes. I know him."

Sophia folded her arms slowly. "How well, exactly?"

"She’s the captain’s daughter," one of the sailors finally said, exasperated.

"What?" the group said in unison.

The sailor nodded grimly. "Aye... Ander’s daughter. Slipped onboard again. Sneaky as a damn cat."

And just like that, it all made a weird kind of sense.

The nervous glances. The careful steps. The fear in her eyes. She hadn’t come up earlier because she didn’t want to face her father.

But now she had no choice.

And the group... they were left staring at her, this beautiful, bold stowaway in red, as the sea whispered around them.

The air seemed to still.

The soft whisper of the waves beneath the ship faded into the background as the heavy, agitated footsteps of Captain Ander thudded up the steps to the deck. His boots slammed against the wood with the fury of a storm brewing at sea, and before anyone could say a word, his gravelly voice cut through the night like a blade.

"Mariel." The way he said it — hard, cold, laced with a deep frustration — made the woman flinch.

There was no doubt now — she truly was his daughter.

Ander came to a stop a few feet in front of her, his eyes flaring with disbelief and anger. His beard bristled as he stared at her, arms tense at his sides, fists clenched like he was restraining himself from completely blowing up.

"I tell you..." he growled, his voice rising as his face darkened with wrath, "this is no damn noble voyage, Mariel. This isn’t some game. We’re not going on a joyride to a harbor town! We’re sailing into dangerous waters. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?!"

Mariel didn’t flinch this time. Her green eyes remained fixed on her father, her jaw tight, and though she said nothing, there was a quiet fire in her expression. A sort of stubborn pride. She’d known this was coming — knew the moment he caught her on board, the storm would hit.

"I don’t care if you stowed away for love, gold, or some tale you read in a book!" Ander barked, his voice now echoing across the deck. "You’ve no place here. You could get yourself killed — get others killed! And for what? Because you couldn’t bear to stay behind?"

Still, she said nothing.

Liam, Jason, Marcus, and the others were watching everything unfold in a stunned silence. It wasn’t just the shouting that had caught them off-guard — it was the woman herself.

"Holy shit," Marcus finally murmured under his breath, leaning toward Jason. "That’s really his daughter?"

Jason nodded slowly. "Apparently."

"Bro..." Marcus blinked, clearly baffled. "She looks like a goddess. Ander looks like a half-drowned warthog."

Jason tried to hide a grin, failing miserably. "I mean... you’re not wrong."

Even Liam, though quiet, found himself studying the contrast. Ander, with his greasy beard, scarred cheek, and permanent scent of rum and old fish, looked like he’d wrestled the sea for decades and had barely won. But Mariel... she was grace made flesh. Even scolded and solemn, her beauty shone like firelight in the cold.

Sophia crossed her arms beside Eleanor and muttered, "Well, at least now I know where the crew’s confusion came from."

Eleanor nodded, eyebrows raised. "I’d be shocked too if a barnacle like that produced a gemstone."

Back in front of her father, Mariel finally broke her silence.

"I couldn’t let you leave again," she said quietly, her voice firm but low. "Not this time."

Ander gritted his teeth. He didn’t say anything for a moment. His fists loosened slightly, but the anger in his face didn’t fade. His eyes searched hers, and though he said nothing more, something in his expression shifted — from pure fury to something more complicated. Worry. Fear.

He exhaled sharply and turned his back to her.

"Get below deck," he muttered. "We’ll deal with this later."

Mariel didn’t argue. She gave a small, quiet nod and started toward the stairs again. But as she passed the group, her eyes met Liam’s — and lingered just a moment too long.

Liam blinked, caught off-guard by the sharpness in her gaze. There was something behind it. Not fear. Not arrogance. Something else.

She wasn’t just here because she was stubborn — she was glad she made it on board. Whatever her reasons were, whatever she had planned — she wasn’t turning back.

And as she disappeared down into the ship, the crew slowly returned to their duties, whispering among themselves.