You know how in bad dreams; nightmares really, when the Heroine comes across trouble and she's too weighed down with fear to run? Or her sick "dreams" won't let her?
Yeah. None of that for me, I'm afraid.
How I wish! For me, I'm not stuck. It's quite the opposite. I'm currently hauling ass as fast as I can, trying not to face plant into the cement as I go. It's also not a dream. Oh no. Reality is looming around me like last weeks dirty socks.
My Nightmare is right on my tail the whole time I make a mad dash for safety. A group of people would be lovely. I taxi would be nicer. In fact, something, anything useful right now would be highly appreciated. Maybe even a drunken bum, or better yet, my boss.
As I turned a sharp left down an alley way, I contemplate the idea. Would I really rather deal with my boss or get chased by this whack-job? Then again, I could always throw my boss in dangers path...yes, that would be amazing scape goat for me. Kill two birds with one stone. But of course, my boss is not here. Bummer.
"Just leave me alone!" I try to scream but this running is starting to take it's toll on my body. Instead it comes out as a strangled mumble. I've been at it straight for fifteen minutes, maybe more then that. I don't know about you, but I'm not a frequent at the local gym. In fact, I seem to shy away from the concept. When you're running full speed and don't regularly work out, you tire quickly. Now I could kick myself for not jogging central part every other day.
My pursuer takes no head in my plea. Instead, they use it to their advantage and gain another foot on me. Oh, God. They're zoning into unfriendly territory. Another foot and they can reach right out and snag me. Oh God, help me now.
I shriek, willing someone to hear me. I mean, come one. It's New York for fuck's sake. The city that never sleeps, the city of full of people: The city where you're never alone. But I'm alone now. I've never felt so alone honestly.
I somehow ventured into a tangle of abandoned buildings and empty alleyways. A druggies paradise. Good Lord, the things I get myself into. I jump mid-run over an over turned trash can and sprint with all my might. If I find a Drug lord or even a pimp, I might make it. I'm sure they carry weapons. Though I'd probably be getting into another mess trying to get out of the first.
Speaking of said mess, they where right behind me, though not on my heels now. Yes, just keep running, fuel that adrenaline rush. If only I had a cup of coffee. I will do every good deed I should if I make it out alive just to have one last cup of coffee. Someone above must have a sick sense of humor or a grudge against my very existence, because the next over turned trash can goes by unnoticed.
I fly sideways and with arms flailing, and smash my face into brick wall surrounding the empty alley. I see nothing but stars for a moment, until they fade to black splotches. A pain breaks me from my suddenly stunned form. I clutch my face in horror as I feel a trickle of warm liquid ooze through my fingers. Moaning, I twist on my back and look up. My forgotten stalkers is stopped not a foot away from me. They move their self towards me, one step at a time.
Concealed by shadows, I can make out nothing but that it's a tall, fuming male. I slide backwards, feeling completely useless. Great going Lizz. You couldn't have made it any easier if you handed your self over on a silver platter. I take a deep breath, finally finding my voice, and Scream the most blood boiling, finger curling bloody murder scream I can manage. It's the loudest I've ever screamed and I listen as it rebounds off the brick walls.
It all comes to a halt when a hand clamps down on my mouth. I waste no time with sinking my teeth down onto the flesh that binds me. I reach blindly forward and find a throat. There I embed my fingers in the hair at the nap of the man's neck and force my thumb into the base of their throat. They chock and sputter for only a moment when my mouth is pried open and suddenly I'm airborne.
I crash into only what I assume is the same wall I just collided with. Dizzy and disoriented, I push myself up and immediately regret it. My head is spinning and my vision is swimming, but I can't let that stop me. Get up, move forward, find help. Get up, move forward, find help. I chant this until I'm, at last, back on my feet.
Fingers are gripping my shoulders and shoving me down again. It takes the last of my strength to push myself up. When the man pushes me again, I can do nothing but collapse into a heaping pile at his feet. He growls when I try to, unsuccessfully, crawl sideways. I'm wore out physically, but my mind is racing. I can't let him take me, doing so would be the equivalent as putting a bullet between my eyes.
He bends down and grabs my face roughly. I let out a grunt and try to pull away, but he holds fast. When my labored breathing is less frantic, I muster up a glare and look my attacker in the face. He's eye level with me now as he balances on his hunches.
Bright blue eyes meet mine and I stifle a gasp. I've never seen anything like them before, but I won't let him know that, why add to his ego when I'm at deaths door-step? To hell with that noise. I study his face for a moment, feeling this could be the last thing I ever see. He's actually quite stunning for being a raging lunatic. Dark coal black hair hangs in his eyes and slightly curls at the ends from which I assume is the responsibility of the damp alley. Sharp jaw, which is clenched in frustration, is dusted with a dark stubble. A long nose and a steady gaze. He's only breathing a bit harder then normal, no doubt from his bruised neck.
I blink, take one last gaze at him and spit in his face. He's none to pleased, but does nothing as he lifts a hand to his face to wipe it off. Just as I was counting on. I throw my body at his, and combined with my weight, an element of surprise and his position, he falls backwards with me on top of him. His arms wrap around me in a death grip. I wanted to say I couldn't run even if I tried, but I keep my mouth shut.
He's a bit livid, but more frustrated then anything. It's all over his face. What, his prey simply won't hand themselves over? Well too bad. His grip on my waist creases as his hands find my arms again. He grips them tightly, no doubt leaving a bruise for later.
I wince and sink forward. Exhaustion is weighing me down like cement blocks on a body in the Brooklyn river. I just want to roll over, curl in a ball and pass out. My captor is now looking at my face, no doubt seeing my determination falter. He sits up, dragging me with him and holds me back a bit. After another silent moment of studying me, he huffs. "Are you done? You need another minute to get it all out of your system?" I swear to God he's mocking me now. I hold still for a split second before throwing myself backwards and kicking my feet up in the direction of his face.
One solid kick in the jaw was all he got from me before restraining my feet. He worked his jaw and gave me a look. "Is that all now?" The gull of this man. I wanted so badly to protest, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. So to answer him, I slumped backwards on the dirty ground.
Seeming satisfied with my answer. He let go of my feet and stood up, brushing alley scum from his back. I tried to knock him over by sweeping my leg against his, but all it did was hit against his and fall to the ground. He finished, gave me a look and pulled me up by my arms. I wobbled on shaky feet. The only thing holding me up was his arms.
He then proceeded to lift me up again, though this time I was cradled in his arms. I wanted to protest, to scream, holler, throw myself. Anything to get away, but I didn't. I hesitantly laid my head on his shoulder as he walked away. My now sweat saturated ginger hair clung to my bloody face. I lift my shaking arm to push away the grimy locks.
I need a bath now so badly. A change of clothes. New York's streets aren't exactly could-eat-off-the-floor clean, so just think of the things in the back alleys. I groaned against the strangers shoulder blade and felt him sigh. "What now?" Irritation was definitely still in his voice. Shifting in his arms, I grimaced. "I...I'm dirty. I need a shower. Have you ever rolled around on New York's streets?" After a paused, I didn't let him finished. "Neither have I, until now. Think of the things growing there."
I felt him shake his head and continue on his now silent trek. To my demise. I wanted to cry now and seeing as I'm not one of those blubbering babies, it was a rarity. It would be called for in this kind of situation though, but I was just so wore out. I might as well rest. This might be the last time I get a decent nap. And before I could think it though more, my head lolled forward, to the crook of the man's neck and my eyes where firmly closed.
A/N: I'm baccckkkk. Well, technically, I was never here on fictionpress. I am on fanfiction though. I haven't written for a couple of years now. I just lost my inspiration for fanfiction's. But writing a story for myself has always been something I've wanted to do. And of course all my stories are going to be full of romance. That's just my thing.
This might be a confusing chapter, seeing as there is no explanation for the whole "chase" thing. Don't worry, next chapter should clear that right up. School is starting soon, September fourth for me, and I'm going to be a freshman, WOOT, so updating might get a bit tricky, but I plan on having an update every Sunday. I hope some of you guys will stick with the story and possibly leave a review?
NOTICE: Beta Reader is needed. I don't always catch my mistakes and my spelling can be a bit atrocious. Spell-check doesn't always work! If you're interested, please send me a PM. Thanks~!