A Second Chance - A Larry Stylinson Fanfiction

Chapter 20

I know you all hate me and secretly wish I was dead but if I was then you wouldn't have any more chapters and no one wants that. I know I am a terrible, terrible human being for making you guys wait a thousand years for this, but I've restarted this chapter at least five times and I really hope it's worth it. If not, I give you all permission to TP my house. I can't say sorry enough and I can only hope this chapter and the next makes up for it.

Enjoy(:

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Chapter 20

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I look up with wide eyes, my pulse quick as lightening and thundering in my ears as the other six thugs advance toward me with sick, menacing smiles on their faces, building up my fear, feeding on it as I wait in suspense for the inevitable. Lions stalking their prey. The brick wall presses against my back, denying me a way out of the situation I landed myself in as the thugs begin forming a cage around me again with the help of the wall behind me. I swallow the lump in my throat and resort to my last means of defense - reasoning. "Come on, guys. This doesn't have to happen. Just let me go and no one needs to know a thing."

Apparently trying to talk my way out was all the encouragement needed, because a tall orange haired thug's face screws up in a scowl as he pulls back his fist to drive it into my temple, his ring tearing the skin next to my eyebrow. As my head spins from the force of the punch, it cracks against the brick wall and I have to brace a hand against it to keep on my feet.

The thugs laugh as I struggle to regain my bearings and before I have time to try to put up some sort of defense, another fist flies that clocks me under the chin and has me falling back against the wall, the bricks ripping small holes in my shirt. One of the gang members takes the opportunity of my non shielded face and pops a punch so quickly against my eyes that my head smacks against the wall and I see stars. I nearly collapse then and there, but one of the guys roughly grabs my arm to keep me up, and through blurry vision and pure instinct, I throw my own fist and hear the vicious, triumphant sound of a nose breaking from the force of my punch, blood instantly covering my fingers.

"Why, you little-" The voice is congested and angry and too late I realize that trying to fight back was a terrible idea as the hand moves from my bicep to the back of my head to grab a handful of hair and drive my head abruptly downward in a thrust up knee.

Blood spills from my nose as my legs finally give out and I drop to the ground, the worst possible thing that could happen in this situation because it gives them better vantage. The flying fists stop, but the kicking starts, easier to do and more painful to retrieve. They take turns delivering excruciating blow after blow and I clench my eyes shut, wrapping my arms around my head and just try to concentrate on my breathing as the thugs kick relentlessly, ignoring my cries and shouts and whimpers of pain.

I try calling for help, but the blood in my mouth muffles my cries and just earns me another kick to the stomach. I wish someone would notice. I know it's the middle of the night and all the shops are closed, but someone's got to hear me crying, right? Someone needs to notice I'm missing. I can't be so alone that no one's going to notice or care that this is happening to me. There's got to be someone out there to help me.

Without any warning, a boot stomps down on my side and I scream a bloodcurdling scream as I'm sure my ribs crack or possible break from the impact. The pain is white hot and that's suddenly all I can see, vaguely aware of the leader calling off his thugs and them all running off, though not before one swipes my wallet and another spits on me.

I gasp unevenly in their absence, each breath sending waves of pain through my body, making breathing feel impossible. The bright light fades away and when I open my eyes, all I can see is my trembling hand stretched out before me, splattered with the stark color of blood, through stinging eyes due to the blood that runs from my eyebrow into my eyes. Beyond my hand, the street is dark and alone and it finally settles in that no one's going to come rescue me.