Wings

Chapter 2: The Saviors

Then, he spoke in a deep, low voice full of promises I did not want him to keep. “What’s a pretty girly like you doing by yourself?” His tone disgusted me; it made me quiver and raised goose bumps up my spine. From just one sentence I already knew their intentions and I needed to get out of here.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” spoke another, his voice too smooth, like he had said these words multitudes of times. My stomach churned thinking of why he had, all the girls they had taken advantage off. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t let that be me.

They were all slowly moving forwards as they spoke, moving around to enclose me in the back of the alley. What was I supposed to do? The only way to walk out was blocked by men twice my size and flying would mean instant death in this area.

“Stay back,” I hissed as the largest man took another step towards me, landing him about five meters away.

“Ah, a feisty one,” he mocked, his expression amused. I would admit I held no threat to his eyes; an eighteen year old girl, just a quarter over a hundred pounds, without any obvious weapons, and my white wings giving me the appearance of innocence. But I had been on my own for six years, six long hard years. I had a few tricks up my sleeve (although never had to fight my way out of a situation like this).

“What’er ya goin to do, scratch us?” The far left man mocked, seeming more like the bullies brainless crony along for the adrenaline than someone who would really cause harm. My hand twitched, eager to reach into my bag and grab the knife I had there. But I should keep it hidden, wait until it could be put to use to, not just shown for a threat.

“Dane,” the deep voiced man barked. “Get her bag.” He must have noticed my hand. I swore under my breath as the one who had just mocked me ran swiftly over. My hand knew the action well though and it delved into my bag, grabbing the hilt of the knife and pulling it out before he had reached me. He paused as the blade caught the late afternoon sun, gleaming right before him as I pointed it at his chest in a threat.

“Dane, get the knife!” the man demanded upon seeing the hesitation, obviously exasperated with the performance of one of his gang. Dane made to grab my wrist but he was slow and I evaded his reach easily. My arm swung around and caught him in the side. Too bad he was wearing a thick leather jerkin the blade could not penetrate. It bounced of his Straze uniform without harm.

As the momentum of my slash carried my hand away from his body, he was able to grab my forearm, his dirty fingernails digging into my flesh. “Tried ter stab meh didja?!” He was angry now, tightening his grip with each word. He grabbed my wrist with his other hand, squeezing so hard my fingers were forced to let go of the knife. It hit the ground with a clang and I heard Dane kick it back to the gang. The deep voiced man who seemed to be the leader bent down and picked it up, tucking it in his belt.

“You dare to try and attack one of Strazier’s men?!” his voice suddenly boomed through the small alley, making me jump in fright. I could feel terrified tears forming in my eyes, I had no idea what would happen now. I fought against Dane’s grip, trying desperately to free myself but he was stronger than he looked. I couldn’t budge him. “Wher you tink yur goin missy?” he drawled, looking at me with his wicked eyes.

The leader than stepped forwards, brushing Dane to the side slightly while he kept his grip on me. He suddenly tore my bag from my body, the contents spilling across the ground. The sound of my scavenged items rolling away across the stones echoed through the ensuing silence for a moment and then his hand suddenly acted again, slapping me across the face, my head instantly snapped to the side by the force. It stung so bad tears instantly fell from my eyes, my skin was on fire. Before I could even think he shoved me. I stumbled backwards, tripping over a broken milk crate but catching myself before I fell.