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several occurrences of near disaster

ωαяиιиg: ¢σитαιиѕ α∂υℓт ¢σитєит!! νιєωєя ∂ιѕ¢яєтισи α∂νιѕє∂!! 

Angel

I wander down the streets of Hell. It's late. Very late. We finished our shooting for the day more than 3 hours ago, but I can't bring myself back to the hotel. I can't bring myself back there to someone I'm not allowed to love. I can't bring myself to tell him we can never happen. I just can't do it. 

My phone vibrates. It's Cherri, asking if I wanna hang. I'm not surprised she just asked me; she's mostly nocturnal. 

Mood lightened, I grin and tell her I'll be over in fifteen. I know where I am, and it's not too far. I turn and start walking, spirits lifting a margin. 

I'm about five minutes away when I walk past a dark alleyway. "Hey, you!" calls a rough voice. My stomach clenches. 

Just walk faster, just walk faster, just walk faster, just walk faster

"I said hey, you!" 

Damn. 

I turn around slowly, sinking feeling in my gut. Standing there is a tall, zebra-striped demon with a bright red mane and poison-green eyes. 

"Yes?" I ask, holding myself higher. I think he's a little shorter than me, and I know these people back off if you aren't weak enough. They want easy pickings, not someone who's going to cause a problem.

He cocks his head, studying me. I can tell he's confused as to what I am, thanks to my chest puff and majority of pink clothing. Finally, he settles with an eloquent, "What the fuck are you?"

"That's none of your business, now is it?" I ask snottily, leaning forward. 

"Wow, you got some attitude, eh?" he says, grinning. His teeth are the same shade as his eyes and crooked. "Come here, boys!" 

Oh, fuck. 

Out of the alleyway comes a crew of five other demons. There's a short, bald, dark-skinned man with bloodred eyes and an upturned nose, a tall scaly woman with a fin-like crest on her head and gold necklaces draped all over her, a little, black-haired, pink-skinned girl who looks to be about fifteen but vicious, a blonde satyr with blue skin, and a winged demon that has ink-black skin with swirling white tattoos covering most of it, a white mohawk, and silver piercings littering its body.

I hope Cherri realizes something's wrong when I don't get there in five minutes. 

"Well, well, well," the pink girl sneers. "What a cute little twink."

I stiffen in chagrin, then relax and grin. Maybe I can talk my way outta this one. "Damn straight, baby," I say easily, smiling. 

The leader scowls. "Well, guess what? You just admitted your crime," he snarls. I blink. What crime? "We don't much like having faggots on our turf," he growls. "And you just saved us an argument about whether you were one. Get him, boys," he grins. 

Well, shit. That was a big  fucking miscalculation.

They leap forward, and I turn around and sprint, hoping I can just make it if I move fast enough. 

I don't. 

They catch up in a couple minutes, taking me to the ground like a pack of wolves. Blow after blow lands on my body, pain shooting through me every time a fist or foot connects. I curl into a ball, protecting my head with my hands. Yelps and cries of pain escape me no matter how hard I try to keep quiet.

What the fuck am I doing? 

Why am I just... letting them beat me to a pulp? 

I'm better than that.