The Witch's Devil (Complete)

Chapter 28, Ember's Burn

Ember's POV~

Standing here in the alleyway I've walked through nearly daily since I've lived here. A strange little off the beaten path place— a place that I've called a second home. A home of refuge and sanctuary to the unwanted beings of this accursed town. Full of friends, teeming with life. For all who wanted to get away from the cruel judgment of the world around them.

To find safety with a community of creatures I've taken care of. From food, shelters, and veterinary care they needed. Watching over them all in hopes to give them a better life as best I could. Finding babies homes where I could. Pouring everything I had to give these innocent, misunderstood felines a compassionate home. And that's all been. . .

Destroyed.

I can't see past the flames. Can't hear past the crackling. The smell of gasoline, paint, smoke and metal. Bile burns my throat. My vision blurred from tears threatening to escape me. Pain in my chest is deadly numb. An ache I haven't ever felt with such intensity.

Out of nowhere, something wet runs down my face. A rotten smelling liquid was being poured onto my head. I must've spaced out there for a moment. What is happening? Blinking as my eyes sting. Without realizing it the young men who towered over me had started pouring his beer out on me.

I hung my head low, unable to take my eyes off the fur ball in my arms. Bringing Gus tighter into my chest using my body as a shield of sorts. Hoping in some insufficient way, I refuse to let the orange tuxedo feline face anymore cruelties.

What have I ever done to deserve such hatred in return for. . .

My thoughts spiral in my statements then questions. Getting screamed at so closely I can feel the spit splatter across my cheeks. My head is whipped back, scalp burning as my hair is fisted. I'm now forced to look at the monster before me. Clenching my jaw hoping my whimper is held back.

No matter how inaudible the world has become; homicidal wrath oozes from his body. I watch in slow motion a hand lifted up high. Coming down in a hard hit was felt across my face. I feel nothing.

It is my fault. . .

Falling back down to my knees, being more mindful of Gus in my arms. Taking the brunt of the fall. Blinding rage must've consumed the leader over. Bloodshot eyes, seething through those ugly yellow teeth. My unemotional inaction spurs on the veracity.

Pulling Gus up to under my chin, he is terrified, trembling, his breathing strained. The first tear breaks free. Shuffling onto my knees, top of my head on the concrete beneath, chin tucked as far as I can get it. The first kick lands, forcing out a cough.

I had always known I was hated.

More hits and kicks, shouts and curses, as the other men soon joined in on the assault. I shove down my screams. Huddling over Gus in the fetal position. Shielding him now physically as best as I could. Taking the full force of their attacks. Kick, punch, kick, hit with whatever else they had available and could use to beat over me. Over and over. Hit after hit.

Baring my teeth to no one. Hot wet tears soak my face. I need to find a way out of this. To go get help. Yet I'm stuck here with my tender skin on fire, bones aching, muscles straining.

Why do they harbor so much hate? What have I ever done to them?!

Gritting my teeth clenching down hard enough to risk breakage. I am not willing to give them a single scream. Holding back the pained whimpers. Excruciating pain erupts all throughout my body. Stinging slashes from sharp objects and blades used to cut my flesh.

Everything will be okay. As long as I give them nothing. They will get bored of this needless violence. They have to get bored. After they leave I can get Gus help, get help here. My thoughts interrupted, Everything will be fine. . .