The Baker

Part 2

It was late in the evening the next time that you came across Alfie. The sun had already set, leaving you to find your way to the bakery in the shadows that covered the streets. You clutched on to your coat and dragged it around you more firmly as your boots hit the cobble audibly with every step that you took. You were close to your destination, just another right and then a left and there it would be. You hadn't been back to the bakery in two weeks. Every night was spent asking your grandmother if she needed any treats from the bakery or if a loaf of bread was required for dinner. The elderly woman would cock a brow and eye your giddy form. 'I think you've got your eye on someone down at the bakery, hm?" Her chestnut eyes would study you intently when she would ask you, but you would brush it off and busy yourself with the house chores.

Finally, today, she had requested that you stop by the bakery on your way home and pick up a few loaves of bread because the two that you had bought previously were now finished. You'd just locked up shop at the jewelry store and were now moving along the wet ground toward Alfie's. You weren't even sure if the bakery was open at this late hour. You were meant to go a few hours ago, but your boss had held you back, so now the streets were empty and uninviting. Turning the corner sharply, your small form hit something big and heavy and with a gasp, you clutched on to whatever it was in front of you. Your heart was beating so heavily in your ears, you couldn't hear anything else. Staring up at whatever it was that you'd rammed into, you realized as the body began to move that it was a man. "Forgive me, sir, I wasn't paying attention." You smiled softly before stepping back and creating distance between the two of you.

The lantern that illuminated this area of the street shone down on the bloke. He was mid 40's, blonde, had a crooked tooth in the front. His eyes were green and threatening. "Watch where you're going next time." He muttered before shoving past you. You, stunned by the rudeness of him, mumbled under your breath about how uncivil and unmannerly some people could be. He, having heard what you said, didn't take kindly to that. You were striding off and had just turned the corner when you felt a sharp pain in your wrist. When you looked down, you realized that the man had a painful hold on you. "What did you say?" He spat, shoving you angrily toward the darkest corner of the road. "About me being uncivil? Why, because I don't accept your apology? You shouldn't be so clumsy. Don't blame me for your mistake." He growled, tightening his grip on you. The atmosphere around the two of you was tense and the hairs on your arms were sticking straight up. You'd never been approached like this by anybody. "Sir, I- I'm sorry." You whispered out, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

He was just as unforgiving as he was apologetic. "Oh, you're sorry? Well, whore, let me show-" you tuned him out. Whore? Just because you were walking alone late at night to get some bread, that made you a whore? Struggling in his grasp, you tried to yank yourself free, but he used his body to press you to the wall. The world around you seemed to grow darker, casting you further into the darkness as the lantern in the street faded. Alfie was sat at his desk, pinching the frame of his glasses as he held them on the bridge of his nose. Muttering under his breath as his eyes scanned the papers in front of him, he rubbed his teeth together in contemplation before smoothly guiding his utensil along the page, marking it. It was late and he could hear the clock in the corner ticking, reminding him that time stood still for no man. He wasn't going to get any rest tonight if he didn't head home now. The broad man rose from his position at the desk and tucked away the files that he had out. Locking each of his desk drawers, he left his office with a low whistle, ensuring that the door was closed shut and impossible to get into.

The man tugged his coat on to his body and was in the middle of putting on his hat when he heard his name. Arching a brow at the rather desperate sounding cry, he turned on his heel and peered down the corridor that leads to the backdoors. Studying the empty space, he wondered if he had simply imagined the sound, but when he heard another yell for help, he clutched his cane and set off in the direction of the shouting. You didn't stop fighting against the man, even as he clutched the ends of your dress and tried to drag them up to your hips. Your free arm was balled into a fist, angrily hitting his chest, face, and hip as much as you could to try and stop him from doing what you ultimately knew he was trying to. He pressed his hand roughly over your mouth to silence your screaming. Alfie wasn't here, you told yourself as you shut your eyes. He'd gone home like everyone else in the town had and you should've done the same. A single tear slid down your cheek and your stomach twisted as the man in front of you let out a dirty chuckle. "It's not gonna hurt, love, I'm sure you've had more than just me. What with being a whore and all." He moved his hand away from your lips and instead gripped your throat. His fingers sunk into the tender flesh, squeezing your jugular until your face turned red. You squirmed beneath him and tried to get free, but you could feel the life leaving your body as your lungs CLAWED for oxygen.