Beauty And The Beasts

Prologue

She had no idea why she was doing what she was doing, or what was motivating her to do it. All she knew was that she couldn't stop, couldn't take a breather. She had to keep on moving- that was the key to survival.

It was dark, she had no shoes on, and the road was filled with stones.

It had all started with that video.

She saw that video by accident. She saw the other video.

And something snapped within her.

She took a knife from the kitchen, hid it in the waistband of her jeans, and went to confront him. She asked him about the videos.

He laughed at her. He said he'd enjoyed making them.

That was when she completely lost it.

She attacked him by hitting him. He hit back, shoved her backwards and raised his hand to hit her again. That's when she buried the knife into his shoulder, and using his cry of pain, pushed him backwards. Then she kept on twisting the knife in the wound, watching him squeal like a stuck pig. But he was strong and well built- he hit back with one hand. That's when she saw the beer bottle he was drinking from.

Picking it up, she brought it down, with full force on his head.

He screamed, and called her names. She hit him again.

Then she turned away to run. She had reached the hallway, when he somehow stumbled up behind her, grabbing a fistful of hair, calling her a whore, and pinned her against the wall. Bleeding from the head and shoulder, his face both bloody and red with anger, he looked almost comical.

He put a hand on her throat, threatening to kill her.

Fortunately, she still had a broken half of the beer bottle in her hand.

She hit him again, on the head. She brought a leg up and hit him in the groin.

He doubled over in pain.

She kicked him to the ground, and kicked him in the stomach. He cried in pain.

She found herself screaming names at him- now it was she who was cussing.

As a coup de grace, she bent over and punched him in the face, several times.

He lay groaning in pain. Taking a chance, she grabbed her purse from the living room, and, stealing a last look at his bleeding visage, she unlocked the front door and ran off.

Outside, it was still dark. She had no idea of the time, but she thought it must be very early in the morning. The roads were empty, and it was quiet all around. At first, she was unsure of where she should go.

Home felt like a horrifying place after what had happened to her friend.

The police would most probably not be of help.

Then she remembered. She knew whom to go to.

It had been a long time since they'd seen each other. But she had to.

She walked on, not minding the stones and gravel that crunched underneath her feet, pinching her sole, drawing blood.