Third Time Charmed

Size Matters (Part 2)

Looking over her shoulder occasionally, Prue hobbled down the garbage-strewn alley, sobbing and sniffing loudly. She used the long sleeves of her tattered green jacket to wipe the face hidden beneath her bedraggled long hair. When she reached an abandoned building, she moved a large packing crate lid aside to reveal an uncovered basement window. Lowering herself to the floor, she shimmied through the paneless window feet first, slid the wooden lid back over, and dropped inside.

The lower level of the old building was lit only by firelight. Two of its occupants were gathered around a trash can, heating their hands over the flame that burned inside. Others could be seen curled up on uncovered mattresses. They eyed her warily but didn't object to her presence. Those who came to a place such as this knew what to look for, and Prue looked as disheveled as they did. She was one of them.

Prue sniffed loudly, nervously clutching her sleeve-covered hands to her chest as she wound her way through the building. This was her third time here, so she knew the way by now. Soon, she found her way to the stairs and the upper floor, where Dustin would be expecting her.

Dustin ran this place. He found it, and he kept everyone who stayed here fed, dry, and clothed. They even got access to hot water occasionally. All he asked for in return was their loyalty...and that they didn't sample the product. Those who didn't want to sell for him were not forced to, but they had to leave the shelter. All in all, it was a good deal, except for those who opted to leave, who, rumor had it, were never seen again on the streets of San Francisco.

Prue knocked on the door of Dustin's room. When it opened, a man with curtains of greasy black hair framing his face answered. He smirked, shaking his head at the sight of the unkempt woman. "Prue," he said, ushering her inside.

"Hey, Dustin," she responded meekly as the door closed behind her, fear audible in her small voice.

"So," said Dustin. "Decided to take me up on my offer, have you?"

Prue mumbled something in reply, her mouth covered by one of her dirty sleeves.

"Speak up!"

"I said...no," Prue asserted weakly.

Dustin's expression hardened. "Really? That is a shame," he remarked. "I worry about you out there all alone. It's gonna be a cold one tonight. You got somewhere else to stay?"

"No."

"Then stay here again. You can have the room I gave you last time. All you have to do is sell a few bags to earn your keep."

"I'm sorry, Dustin, but I can't," said Prue regretfully.

"And your mind's made up?"

Prue nodded.

"There's nothing I can do to convince you?"

Prue shook her head.

Dustin sighed, "Okay, if that's your decision, I'll respect it. But let me make sure you leave with a blanket and some food."

"Thank you, Dustin," said Prue. She watched the man leave the room. He gave her a pitying look before closing the door behind him. It made a distinct click, as if it had been locked from the outside. She turned the doorknob and pulled to be sure. It wouldn't open. "Dustin?"

From out of the shadows, a towering, hooded figure appeared, issuing a guttural rasping breath. Hearing this noise, Prue turned to find it looming over her. Beneath its hood was a monstrous, skeletal, decaying face. "Oh my God," sobbed Prue, falling to her knees and covering her face in horror.

"God can't help you now," quipped the inhuman creature, pulling open its robes with elongated claw-like fingers to reveal a protruding stomach. The anguished faces of its many trapped victims were visible beneath the skin, crying out and clawing for freedom. "Your terror will nourish me."