The guidelines for this challenge would have made it incredibly easy to write a steamy scene, packed with purple prose. (Title: Rebecca’s First Time. Excerpt: Looking at the hard shaft hanging between Vladimir’s legs, Rebecca was mortified when she wondered aloud, “I’ve never seen one that small before!”). Somehow, I managed to fight the temptation and, as a result, you have before you a rather innocent little story. I realize that it’s a bit short (not to mention unpolished and disjointed), but college applications and AP classes are to blame, not me.

The Good Bad Man: Part One
By Tantaevita

Lily Numez peers over her shoulder, squinting into the impenetrable darkness. Trees rustle anxiously overhead, hiding the smoggy night sky. For the past quarter of an hour, Lily has had the sinking suspicion that someone is following her. The road behind her appears to be blessedly empty, though. Her senses still jangling, she returns her gaze to the road ahead and continues to walk in silence.

This is not the first time Lily Numez has run away from home. In fact, at the impressive age of eleven, Lily has seven escapes to her name––seven failed escapes. Hence her paranoia. Every stray shadow might be Lily’s mother, waiting to pounce and drag her wayward daughter back to bed. Not that Lily would be able to sleep––not with the sound of breaking glass and angry epithets straining through the thin walls. Lily quickens her pace, propelled by the prospect of spending another night in a war zone.

Ten minutes later, Lily reaches her destination: an old house, on all accounts abandoned, which will serve as her shelter tonight. Victory trills through her veins. This is not the first time Lily Numez has run away from home, but it is the first time she has ever succeeded. She smiles triumphantly. And then her face falls. She never considered what she might do once she reached the house; her thoughts have always revolved around eluding her mother.

Lily makes her way to the back door of the house, her feet crunching tentatively across the dead lawn. Much to her surprise, the doorknob turns and the door creaks open when she pushes. She steps into the stale air and immediately trips over a large, inanimate object. She grabs her knee in pain and narrowly avoids ramming into another obstacle. Her eyes slowly adjust to the new darkness and she finds herself surrounded by an array of odds and ends. Her knee still smarting with pain, she picks her way through the maze of broken furniture and knickknacks, growing warier by the minute.

Perhaps the old house is not abandoned at all. Perhaps, she thinks with a convulsive shudder, it is a warehouse for robbers. How else would one explain the strange assortment of, of––she struggles to find the right word––junk that was stacked and strewn so precariously about the floor? She spies a broken paddle lying next to an ancient coffee table. Without thinking, she stumbles over to pick it up, and hugs it tightly to her chest. If her suspicions are right, and robbers frequent this house, she intends to protect herself.

Lily reasons with herself as she continues to tiptoe through the mess of objects. She has nowhere else to stay; she knows of no other place nearby that might serve as decent shelter. She nears the staircase and wonders distractedly if there might be a small space under the stairs. It would be the perfect hiding place. To her astonishment, there is. She wiggles her way into the little compartment under the stairs, the paddle still clutched at her side. Withdrawing as far into the darkness as she can, Lily Numez breathes a sigh of relief. No one will ever find her here. And if they do, she can always whack them where it counts with her paddle.

Some time later, Lily Numez awakes to the sound of voices. Male voices. All vestiges of sleep disappear, leaving her fully awake with fear. She strains to hear over the rasping sound of her own terrified breathing.

“I still can’t believe the diamond that Julius wanted us to sell,” one voice exclaims angrily. “I’ve never seen one that small before!”

For a moment, there is no answer. The same voice speaks again, sounding even more irritated than before. “Will you take that damned lollipop out of your mouth long enough to agree with me?” the voice demands to the silent party.

There is a pause. And then, another voice speaks, low and calm.

“The diamond will sell, no matter its size. Diamonds always sell.”

Lily hears a frustrated sigh from the other man. They were getting closer.

“You’re far too optimistic, Drake,” the first voice replies. “And too forgiving. If Julius had spoken to me like he did to you tonight, I would have––”

“Quiet, Matthias,” the low voice hisses suddenly. And then the voice pronounces the very words Lily has been dreading to hear: “We are not alone.”

Lily’s heart stammers in her chest. She holds her breath as she hears the two men pass by the staircase. For one promising moment, she is safe. And then, in the tradition of many a low-budget thriller, she sneezes.

It does not take them long to find her. Suddenly, she is staring up at two men, one shouting hysterically and the other menacingly quiet.

The one she recognizes to be Matthias is shouting at her. “Filthy little spy!” he cries. “I’ll bet she was sent by Julius! Maim her, Drake, maim her!”

She whimpers with fright and blindly swings her paddle at the two men. Matthias rips the paddle from her hands, throwing it aside carelessly, and moves to pull her from under the stairs. And then the other man speaks, his tone as even and low as ever.

“Don’t touch her, Matthias,” he says coolly.

“But she’s––”

“She’s not a spy, Matthias,” he growls angrily. “Can’t you see she’s just a child?”

The man pushes Matthias out of the way before he can say anything more, and crouches down so that he and Lily are at eye level. She is shaking so badly it hurts.

“Calm down,” the man says softly. “No one is going to hurt you.”

When she does not respond, he sighs and pulls something out of his pocket, offering it to her. It is a lollipop. Lily takes it cautiously, not quite sure what is happening. He smiles and takes another lollipop out for himself. Half certain that the lollipop is poisonous, Lily unwraps the candy and sticks it in her mouth, only to pull it out immediately in disgust. The man laughs at her reaction, but it is a kind laugh.

“Sorry if it tastes a bit strange,” he chuckles. “It’s tea-flavored. I don’t always have time for tea, you see.”

Lily’s shoulders have ceased shaking, and her breath is coming out in even gasps.

“My name is Drake,” the man says. He holds out his hand to her, and helps her out from under the stairs.