Hey guys, this is just something that I'm palying with. I put it in the fantasy forum because it does turn into a fantasy novel, but it's just a little slow in the begging so forgive me for that, other than that here is Locke and Keye, hope you enjoy it!
Addawen
Pulling the collar of my beige trenchcoat up closer to my red ears, I fought against the cruel November wind, grumbling to myself the whole way to my car.
“Stupid cold weather,” my teeth chattered, while my thin frozen fingers fumbled with the keys to my BMW. “Stupid Windy City, stupid job, stupid stupid stupid.” I ground out, forcing my numb hand to work correctly.
A furious gust of wind literally threw me against my car, causing my keys to scratch at the beautiful metalic blue paint of my brand new beamer.
“Dammit,” I cursed, hunching down closer to the keyhole.
'This is utterly ridiculous,' I thought, finally inserting the key into the accursed hole.
Throwing myself into the cool car, I shut out the cruel Chicago wind. I had an overwhelming urge to stick my tongue out at the wind, though its invisible, mainly because I was safe inside my car, and it couldn't get to me.
Resisting the childish urge, I started the engine, turning the heater on full blast hoping my fingers would thaw out, I really needed a new pair of gloves. The ones my mom had knitted for me last Christmas fell apart, simply because mom knitted them, not one of her strongest talents; knitting.
Waiting for the car to heat up, I fussed with my long dark tresses, thanks to the wind it was in shambles, all knotted and in my eyes, I should really cut it, but I couldn't. I liked my hair too much, it was thick and shiny, straight as a board, and did what I asked it to do every once in a while. I had good hair, stubborn hair, if hair could be stubborn, but good hair at that.
Tucking some loose strands behind my ear, my dark eyes caught something on the side of my neck. Cool delicate fingers traced the green and purple pattern, it looked like finger tips.
“Damn,” my word of the day.
'Had Richard really been that rough?' I wondered to myself, scrubbing at the ugly marks. When they didn't disappear no matter how hard I scrubbed, I felt tears prickle the corners of my eyes.
Now, I know what your thinking, and you can just stop. I'm not a call girl or the office slut, let's just say I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and for that I got roughed up a bit.
I know I should probably file for an almost rape, but who would the boss believe; the new girl from a little town in Philly, or the Vice President of our CEO company?
Oh yea, the Vice President douche bag, that was my guess too.
Applying a little concealer to the bruises, I turned on the radio hoping to drown out the images that kept flashing like neon lights in my brain.
Richard's hot clammy fingers crawling up my shirt, clamping down on my ribs, itching towards my breasts. His putrid breath telling me to not scream, that I will enjoy this.
I can hear myself begging, pleading for him to stop, as his hard bony fingers surpass my chest and wrap around my throat. His lips pressing against my jaw, his knee forcing apart my legs, buttons popping and the haunting sound of his zipper hissing as its undone.
I whimper and he laughs, cruel and low.
He shushes me, a hand dragging up the hem of my skirt, another plea, another whimper. Fingers biting harder into my skin, the sound of my skirt being torn, the sound of him groaning trying to get off.
Then he stops. Just as quickly as he started he stops, pulling away looking as cool and collected as if he had just landed a bid deal, which I guess he did. He looked satisfied, making my skin crawl.
What had I done to deserve such a treat, you ask. I had come in on him stealing from the company, not money of course, because that was so last season. But files, very important files I assumed. Instead of bribing me to keep quiet, Richard attempts to molest me instead, or well tried too, until someone knocked on his office door. Saving me for the moment.
Dragging myself from those images from this afternoon, I found my knuckles had turned white from holding the steering wheel to tight.
“Stop it, just stop it.” I ordered myself, looking in the rear view mirror. I paused, the girl I saw was a stranger, she wasn't the girl from this morning the confident charming girl, excited for her new job. No this girl, she was scared out of her mind, you could tell from the look in her dark almost black eyes, she was frightened and had no one to turn to.
I looked away from the mirror seeing the truth, a sob catching in my throat. I laid my head against the cool steering wheel, letting the waves of tears wash over me.
“Alone, so alone.” I cried, my heart weeping for my little town back in Philadelphia, for my mamma, for anything but this wretched city and its wretched people.
“Your not alone.” a deep voice from the backseat answered.
I sucked in a deep breath readying myself for a scream, but before I could a large warm hand clamped down over my mouth. I began to struggle, fighting against this unknown terror, I froze when I felt something cold and hard press underneath my jaw; a gun.
'A gun!' my mind screamed. 'Oh my God, I'm going to die!' I struggled all the more, ignoring the cool metal at my throat.
My adrenaline rush was waining, 'Get a hold of yourself.' my subconscious screams, reeling for escape opportunities, I'm glad one of us is thinking instead of freaking out.
I try to scream, straining against his tight hold, but to no avail. All these crazy scenario's flash through my head; my face on a milk carton, even though that isn't done anymore, my mamma crying because I can't be found, then my body is found mangled and mutilated, my life is over before it ever began, sad sad little girl why couldn't you have been happy in your small intimate little town? Why couldn't you have been happy with white picket fences and neighbors who knew every detail of your life?
I try to scream again, my voice is muffled and hoarse by now, my muscles grow weary from their fighting.
“Silence.” my assailant warns his hand tightening. “Now, I'm not going to hurt you.”
'Bullshit!' I think, thrashing wildly, the barrel of his gun digging deeper into my already bruised skin. 'Think, think! Use those college brains for something!' my breath was coming faster and faster, if I didn't do something quick I was going to hyperventilate and God only knows what will happen to me then.
Bite.
The thought comes loud and clear, but I can't comprehend. I stop struggling for a moment, hoping the thought will speak again, it does, this time louder.
Bite! Bite hard.
My assailant must have thought I had either fainted or given up, because his hold slackened and his hand lessoned its grip on my chapped lips. That was all the time I needed, just that one second between life and death.
I opened my mouth, his fingers sliding past my lips right into my teeth. I bite, hard, hard enough that I taste his blood.
He screams out in pain, releasing me fully. My chance at freedom, and I snatch it like a fat kid who loves cake.
Looking back I thank my lucky stars I hadn't buckled when first getting into my car, throwing the beamer door open I jump out, slipping once I curse my heels and skirt. I take off in a hard run, kicking of my pumps again thanking my lucky stars that I was a track star back in high school and not a cheerleader.
My stocking feet slapping against the concrete, I can't hear my attacker only my heavy breathing, but that doesn't mean he isn't behind me. Turning the corner I run up a landing forgetting the most important rule in being chased, 'Never go up.'
I curse myself for parking in the deserted section of the parking garage, seeing the lights getting dimmer and dimmer, where's the sun? Panic is starting to rear its ugly head, I have to keep it under control, but the pull is too strong. Soon I hear some poor woman screaming bloody murder, I realize that I am screaming.
My lungs burn, my feet ache and the damn parking garage keeps going on and on, where the hell is everyone? Why hadn't I paid attention to all those CSI, Criminal Mind shows?
Running up another landing, I hear the screeching of tires, the thundering of a motor, I kick into high gear feeling tears pour from my eyes, I won't go down without a fight. I can't, I have so much more to do, so many things to see, so much more sex to have, God dammit.
My body cries out for surrender, and my mind considers it for a split second, until I see what's left of daylight, the last landing, freedom. I force my legs to go faster, faster than any track record I set in high school.
Sunset, sweet sunset, with its beautiful orange and purple haze, I feel the cool November wind whipping around me, I can do it, I can do it. The light barely touches my skin
when. . .
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Glass breaking. Car alarms going off. Pain. Incredible pain.
I cry out, staggering I clutch my right side, I see the concrete coming closer and closer, the end, my end. A body slams into mine, catching and throwing me at the same time, we hit the pavement my head slapping against the concrete, stars big and fat stars come into view .
'Was that a bird?' I wonder, flickering in and out of conciousness.
Beyond the sparkles, I see crystal blue eyes, they were worried and afraid. Had someone saved me? Was I still alive, or was this a cruel joke?
Beyond the stars, beyond the little birds tweeting above his head, beyond the pain, I gaze into those bright sapphire eyes, feeling safe for God only knows why and then the darkness claims me.
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