Hell's Greatest Weapon

Chapter 14: Claire Novak, the Third

You didn’t know how you knew she was in trouble, but somehow you found yourself en route to a house in the middle of a Pontiac, Illinois suburb at the call of Claire Novak.  She hadn’t called your name, something that was always required in order to get through to you by prayer, but you heard her voice echo in your mind loud and clear, regardless, the terror and pleading quality of her voice enough to make you disappear mid-interrogation.

You stood in a bedroom when you finally arrived, and while the flight took less than a millisecond you somehow felt that it was too long, that you might have been too late.  When you arrived, of course, you saw what had given the girl such a panic.

She was pinned on the bed under the weight of a man that was easily 45 years old, sporting a legitimate 1950’s leather jacket and a pair of filthy jeans.  He held her by the arms, his legs pinning Claire’s on the bed while he spoke to her, his words far creepier than they were comforting, the latter of which you were sure was his goal.  Claire was screaming, doing her best to kick the man off of her, and when she turned her head to see you, the hope in her eyes was immediately recognizable; she hadn’t expected you to come, hadn’t expected you to make any appearance at all, but there you were.  She nearly smiled at you and the rare joy that your presence gave her was enough to make you forget about the rest of your troubles entirely.

A spout of protective anger coursed through your body and you ripped the man off of the girl, your physical strength appearing to be equally as surprising to Claire as it was the man you had thrown. He smashed into the dresser across the room and collapsed to the ground.  You intended to walk over to him, pick him up by the collar and give him a threat that was enough to make him shake down to the bone, but Claire was off of the bed and by the man, kicking at him ruthlessly, over and over.

The man grunted with each of the blows, doing his best to cover his stomach, his head, but every time he moved his hand and opened up a new area for Claire to kick him, she did just that.  She was yelling, screaming with every kick while the anger vented from her; tears fell from her eyes onto the man at her feet.

“Claire,” you walked up to her and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her away from the man.  She put up quite the fight, her legs kicking while her body thrashed from side to side as she attempted to free herself from you, to continue beating on the man that was only a few minutes from violating her, and while you knew she had every right and you hated having to take the opportunity from her, you continued pulling her back.  “Claire, stop.” 

She continued thrashing, and it wasn’t until you managed to turn her around so she was facing you that she stopped and collapsed into your arms, her head slamming against your shoulder while she wept. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you tight while she cried, her tears and cries being muted by the shoulder of the jacket you wore.  While this wasn’t a first-time thing—not many people came to you for comfort, but it had happened in the past—you were still confused as to what to do until ultimately the instincts you didn’t know you had took over: your arms wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, holding her tight while you hand ran through her hair.

“It’s okay, Claire,” you whispered, “You’re okay.”

“He was—“ she cried before another wave of tears took her over.  “He was going to—“

“I know, I know,” you said, then put a hand on her head and held her even tighter, doing your best to be the comfort she needed. “I know he was.  It’s okay, I’ve got you, now.”

Claire backed away from you and looked up; you were a good couple inches taller than the teen, forcing her to tilt her head upward slightly while looking into your eyes.  The makeup she wore was beginning to run down her cheeks, the tears causing it to begin to break up, and you were sure that a good chunk of that makeup was now on the shoulder of your jacket… yet somehow you didn’t care.  She smiled at you, then, the gesture surprising to you.