1Charlie: Hi! For those of you who don't know who I am, allow me to introduce myself. My name's Charlie! I've just returned from hiatus, which was like 2 years long. Uhm...I'm mainly known for my PJO FF, Morning Trance! If you have some time, do check it out but bare in mind that it is now going to be discontinued. I would just like to thank all the viewers who are about to read this chapter as I've been trying to make a comeback and this is well sorta...New for me? I love the Night World series, dreading the arrival of Strange Fate; I don't think it'll ever be released but I'm crossing my fingers!
So please kick back and enjoy! Do feel more than welcome to review and suggest any changes or opinions? They would be loved! Also, if any of you know a good beta-reader, please send them my way! I am definitely in need of one! Thanks bunches!
"Why are you so slow?" Long, manicured nails clawed at my back as I reached for something—anything. My eyes quickly scanned the shelves of a small convenience store that was quite far from home. The tall, slender blonde behind me gave me no time to look for something small to nab; her nails daring to break the pasty skin under my wool jacket.
"If you don't hurry we'll get caught, you twit," she hissed. "Here. Why don't you take a little souvenir and just think of it as a welcoming gift?" Her long fingers quickly nabbed a pack of condoms from the shelf, nimbly sliding them into my coat pocket—all the while making flirtatious eye contact with the store clerk. Two girls on the other side of the store made their way over to us, smirking. I swallowed, my throat feeling all too clogged.
"I can't really find anything," whined a brunette who let a dangerous smile play across her lips. The long-nailed blonde slung her arm over my shoulder, making sure to state that I was going nowhere until the job was done. I struggled—my hands shaking. How did I even end up in this situation?
I looked up at the blonde whose nails were now digging into the side of my neck. I couldn't help but think that her voice was as sweet as honey; her looks all too easy on the eyes. Just like the rest of them, she was slender. It didn't matter if her face was caked with makeup, she was gorgeous. They all were.
What am I doing? I ran my fingers over the bulging spot in my pocket, biting my lip. Why was this in my pocket? Why was I here? Who the hell were these people? Hours ago I had arrived at a party hoping to just socialize. Sure, I had a few drinks—accepting any that came my way. Maybe I did get a bit swept up into the adrenaline or something. A girl from my neighborhood invited me to the house party when she saw that I was only intending to sit on my porch all day. Of course I accepted her invitation. Of course I was a fool. How socially awkward I was. How dumb was I to think that she would actually hang out with me at the party? Just as soon as we arrived, she ditched me. I hadn't even caught her name; nor did she have mine.
Desperately, I scavenged for attention. I had found the three girls in the kitchen, sipping on beer. When they invited me for a little fun outing, of course I took the chance. Did I know we were going to end up stealing beer? No. Looking back on it now, I recalled the sly looks on their faces that I did not catch the first time. To them I was just another toy to mess around with and make fun of later. I didn't realize what I was in for when I went along with them, but standing in the aisles now, I realized that I was in deep shit.
Then, like a sudden slap to the face, the store was echoing with the shattering of glass. A mess of blonde hair popped out from the back aisle, erupting in laughter as she ran over to us a case of beer. As if on cue, the brunette slammed the door open, guffawing with the other girls. The blonde rushed me out of the store, ignoring the store clerk's threats. I could no longer hear the laughter as my feet made fast contact with the concrete. The blood in my veins pumped quickly as I ran. I just ran. I didn't look back at the girls. I didn't look back at the store clerk. I didn't even acknowledge that I was running towards nothing.
I struggled. I struggled so hard to keep running. As if it would make anything better, I shut my eyes, scared to see anything. I hadn't notice that my feet were fatigued, landing me in a run-down alley. The street was wide, stores tight in proximity. Only a few stores were open, but not the ones I was used to. Girls were crowded in front of various shops, nearly all of them half-naked. The putrid smell of cigar smoke filled my nostrils, daring me to cough and bring attention to myself. I backed up ever so quickly, pressing my jacket closer to my body.
"Well aren't you a cute thing?" A swing of icy breath tinged my neck. I shivered at the cold touch, feeling shriveled up. I looked back at the voice that had caught me looking like a deer caught in the headlights. A woman with short black curls and menacing brown eyes grinned at me, her hand trailing down my arm.
"Poor kitten's lost," she let her head fall back, letting out a stream of laughter. Her eyes trailed down my body, inspecting me like I was exhibit behind glass. "You've got a nice body, don't you? A treat you'll be tonight!" I didn't dare speak, letting only my quick breaths break the silence between us. Me? A treat? The word made me shiver all the way down to my toes. I didn't even fight when her nails dug into my skin—oh how my skin must've bled!
I fell limp, letting her drag me down another alley and into a dark box. I averted my eyes as we passed by various prostitutes, pleasuring their clients. Their hands—their dirty hands were reaching places—reaching for money. I felt bile rise up in my throat. I had lost hope as she threw me onto the floor of a poorly lit room. Crumpled, I laid helpless. Hopeless. I was no hero. I was no brave girl. I had not a single positive trait in me. I was simply this plain girl with stringy, burgundy hair. My body wasn't fit or tone. My face was neither appealing nor cute. Freckles were sprawled across my nose, and my green eyes were just dull. To find myself in a brothel was hilarious to me.
The idea amused me. I was in a brothel. A brothel. I let out a shriek of laughter, amusing myself with just the thought of how stupid I looked. From behind closed doors, I could hear the sudden bickering.
"Who do you think you are?" The voice belonged to a man. His voice was shrill, breaking through the walls as if they weren't there to begin with. I flinched at every word.
"I thought it'd be fun, Christopher." Cooed the voice—the woman from before. Soon after letting out her playful remark, she let out a whimper. He, Christopher, had slapped her. Just as quickly as she had let out her shriek, the door to the room began to rattle—I realized all too late that it was too late to even think of a plan to save myself. Oh, how helpless I truly was.