Satan Reincarnate (The original)

I like blondes

***

I stopped in my tracks as I heard the same deep heart rocking laughter and stomping outside, slowly getting closer and closer. I looked at the cashier who was continently already out the back door. I sprinted behind her, trying my best to follow- but the bitch locked me inside. I wanted to cry because I knew regardless of if I went out the door or stayed, I would be met with their guns to my face either way.

I felt my heart sink as from around the corner of the shelf I was slightly hidden behind, I watched the stumble of an uncomfortably tall black haired man erupt through the doors. I let myself sigh when I realized his pale hands were weapon-free, and waving around by his empty sides. Suddenly, he stopped staggering forward. Perplexed, my eyes gradually searched his body from his empty hands, up his torso- finally meeting his face. His sculpted face was twisted into a scowl as the smokey depths that made up his eyes deconstructed my soul. I felt a chill run down my spine as I watched him, just completely still. It was scary, he was unmoving and his face looked dark under the shadow of the dim light buzzing close above his head. Three men had come inside without me even realizing it, them not noticing me at all. I felt my eyebrows furrow, like I was tripping out of something.

The man behind the tallest looked a bit different, but their faces were like a copy and paste. He was tanner, different style of clothing and had dark braids stuck close to his skull, and falling over his shoulders. His eyebrow was split and his high cheekbone was heavily bruised.

I couldn't make much out about them, they were too far from me to be able to make much of their features. I slightly turned, looking at the rest who had come in behind them. The shortest man was still tall, which gave me an unsettling feeling in my stomach. His hair was short, and his cap was backwards on his head. The lenses of his glasses were cracked and his lip was bloody. They were so drunk, it was scary.

The last one leaning against the wall had shiny brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, his eyes closed with a beer in his hand. One of his shoes were missing and his pants were halfway down his ass.

The only unscathed one was the first man, the one who had gotten closer to me without me realizing it. I turned back into the direction of the door where he was originally standing, shocked when I realized the long distance was closed between us. I yelped, getting the attention of others. My short cry brought life to his face, his narrow eyes widening and his blunt expression twisting into a grin. It was crazy, he had one of the most profoundly beautiful faces I had ever seen. Something about it made me want to look away, but I couldn't. The darkness of his brown eyes sparkled with a white mildew as he looked at me, the dark ring swallowing his thick brown eyebrow glinting in the sweet yellow light.

The thin black locks that fell over his face swung gently side to side as he gradually bent over, slowly becoming eye level with me. His gaze had my breath caught in my throat, I knew I was fucked the moment I saw his eyes on mine. Actually, I knew I was fucked the second I heard the obnoxious screech of those damn tires.

My thoughts were cut off my the sharp gasp escaping my throat when the back of my head hit the wall. I hadn't any idea how close he had gotten, or how far I had backed up. The smell of cola and liquor radiated from his slightly parted lips aggressively, even though he was barely even breathing. He reeked of leather, the aroma of fur, and alcohol.

"Well I've never seen you before, I would've remembered a face like that." He whispered, his voice a foreign slur.

I opened my mouth to speak, but not even a croak came out. The copper brown of his eyes were sealed with thick black liner, and dark smoke swallowing his long eyelashes. He was so close I would've been able to see every pore, ever hair piercing his porcelain skin. If he even had any.

"Who are you?" He whispered, his words getting more pronounced as he smiled softly.

I swallowed, my throat tight as I leaned away from him into the wall. "I'm new." It was the dumbest answer I've ever heard myself give.

His smile faded as I heard a snickery-sneer come from his throat. However it wasn't soft and kind, I couldn't put my finger on the tone change but it was surely there.

"New, hm?" I jumped, hearing the same voice come from beside me, however it was a different man.

Afraid, I looked over only to be met with the same almond brown eyes and drunken stare. It was like I was looking at the same person- one before me and one next to me playing with the curls falling over my shoulder. It was like a paralysis, an uncanny feeling.

"I like her!" Yelled a voice from somewhere near, but I couldn't see anyone else. They all laughed, I felt so many pairs of eyes on me. I didn't even do anything and I felt so embarrassed.

"You know, I've always liked blondes." The man in my face whispered through my hood, his hand coming up to stroke my shoulder.

Instinctively, I scowled as I shook his hand off of me. I hated being touched, and I hated interacting with people I didn't know. Especially when they were all up in my face, basically getting drunk just by breathing in their heavily intoxicated exhales.

"Let go." I whispered, feeling his large hand coil tightly around my wrist. I tried to jerk it away, but all I did was strain my bone.

He refused, my words basically encouraging him as he grabbed my shoulder. I watched as the other three men backtracked, leaving me alone with him. They went back to their business, yelling and shouting like I wasn't even here. Like they had no idea.

"Talk like that again and your hair will bleed red," he said, his eyes still soft but his features staying sharp.

The pressure he had squeezed into my wrist caused me to drop the gas can with an obnoxious bang, echoing through the little space between us. I was afraid, my twisting mind unable to comprehend the threat he just effortlessly threw out at me.

"Now." He persisted, pressure growing under his hand as he pressed into my shoulder. "What's your name sweetheart?" His voice was quiet, I could barely hear it. The inner corners of his eyebrows raised, giving me a sarcastically pitiful look.

"I," I began- only to be cut off with a stoking pain in my shoulder from the thick spikes on his leather wrist cuff digging into my bone.

I inhaled sharply through my teeth, the pain on my face making his lips slightly upturn. What a fucking psycho. Something in my stomach told me not to tell him my name, it would probably be my death sentence. How'd he know if I were lying anyways?

"Laurie." I answered, trying to relax my voice so the lie wouldn't be clearer than a cloudless sky.

He leaned closer, it felt like if he blocked I'd feel his eyelashes on mine.

"I fucking hate liars."

***