In Love with the Loveless

Chapter 1

Authors Note: The cover for this took forever so I hope you like it. *crosses fingers*. I have plans for MANY chapters and I will try to update each night. I'd like to thank deargallifrey for being the Sherlock to my Shaeh <3. Also, she is the reason I explode due to feels during our role-play sessions. Thank you Madalyn, for you have ruined me...in a good way I suppose. Well, enjoy! (I hope...)

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Heavy footsteps accompany the deep, heavy breaths of my pursuers. I"m going to die. They're going to kill me. Not that I know from experience, but it is times like this where I am running for my life, that I am grateful for my diminutive stature. I barely stand at a height of 5'4" (1.6 m). I can't stop running. They will attack me if I do. My legs ache, my lungs burning as if I am inhaling a lungful of toxic air with each breath, my heart pounding to the point where I think it will be mere seconds before it bursts. But I don't stop running. No. I won't stop running until I'm safe. My whole body prays and begs for me to stop, yet I continue to push myself further. Dense rain makes the ground a bit slippery, causing me to lose my footing a couple times due to the loss of traction, as well as blurring my vision, and slicking my dirty-blonde, once beautifully curled hair to my head. The once soft fabric of my jumper is now soggy, clinging to my frame and chilling my pale skin. Just keep running...just keep running. I barely have enough time to comprehend what is happening as I am tackled by one of the men chasing me. I try to make sense of what's going on, except the disorientation refuses to leave, keeping the world around me spinning and all my senses dulled. All I can put together are three things; they have caught me, I am currently pinned against the rough concrete in an empty parking lot, and I will most likely die from the harsh beating that is sure to come. I feel my eyes widen as I spot a large, calloused fist coming straight toward my temple. It connects, hard, sending a wave of pain rushing through my body. Blow after blow, I feel the 2..no...3 fists colliding with my flesh, occasionally on one of my bony areas, such as my hips or shoulders, that seem to increase the pain. I can't keep count of how many times I am hit, all I know is that the darkness starts to envelope me, and my attackers begin to dismiss, spitting and cursing at my broken, limp figure, as I am left in the cold rain of London. The bright stars dotting the night sky remind me of the ones back home in Indiana. Only these ones seem to be growing further way now, fading until I am left with nothing but the emptiness that accompanies unconsciousness.