Temptation

Preamble

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Beautifully Awkward 2012©

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WARNING: Viewer discretion is adviced. Some situations may not be sutiable for some Watties.Temptation includes: Strong language and sexual themes. If you are not comfortable with this I suggest heading back now. 

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WARNING: Strong language and sexual context is included in this preface. Some themes may not be suitable for some readers. So the squeamish beware! ~Beautifully Awkward.

A/N: Due to my lack of knowledge on the demographics of Oregon, I have placed my own little town there. It is a few citities away from Portland, and is completely fictional. And check out the trailer on the side! :L

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                                                                    ☼ Preamble ☼

As I listened to the footsteps pound behind me, I knew it was basically only live or die, succeed or fail, and given the circumstances that my house was roughly twelve blocks away failure seemed inevitable. There was a bad side to Holloway indeed. Thugs, streetwalkers, and vagabonds—all the things usual towns consist of. You just better get home before you get caught in a whirl wind of hurt.

          “Get that bitch!” someone snarled, I gasped, trying to calculate the nearest back way that would detract them from me. Tears pricked in the corner of my eyes, as I thought of the possibility that I wouldn’t make it. I was running and panting, and stumbling. Don’t fall Fallon—don’t be that stupid girl in the movie that always falls, and for some reason can’t get up. You know the outcome! My brain roared at me.

           Whilst running, I notice a figure looking at me wide eyed from the periphery of my vision. It was him—smoking right there in the mouth of a ally way. He looked at me with pure confusion, and I looked at him with fear—all of this seemed to happen in slow motion, before I continued pounding the pavement I hoped he was realizing what was happening. I was in trouble, and I’d seek help from anyone whose intentions weren’t pain.

           The footsteps appeared to get closer, I went up to another alleyway, and climbed up a fire escape, before someone grabbed the collar of my shirt, and forcefully yanked me down. I yelped in fear. “You dumb bitch, now I have to kill you more painfully just for the run! I would have killed you nice and easy! Clean and quick—but you were being such a little bitch, and decided to make me run!” he snarled in my ear, as he took my chin in his fingers, and forced me to look him in the face.

          Repeatedly he punched me in the face, and in the gut. Then, he threw me to the ground, and began violently beating me with his foot. I closed my eyes, and held in my sobs. I would die with dignity, and not pity. “You’re not going to cry are you?”

           “Eh, Harley, can’t we have a little fun with the girl first?” a voice called from the mouth of the alley, approaching us. “And what do you mean by fun?” he kicked me against the brick building. “You know,”—the man sauntered over to me, knelt down, ripped my shirt, and discarded it to the left—“Fun.” My eyes widened with realization.

           How humiliating. As to be so weak as to not be able to fight off these men! A single tear rolled down my cheek, as more of the men flooded the alley, as the two men stripped me down of my pride and clothes.

           “She’s not much of a looker.” One of them muttered, as they observed me.

         “She has no curves what so ever, can we just kill her?” someone suggested, I put my head down, and just prayed for the best. The guy who had me pinned me to the ground, and ripping off my clothes. I screamed loudly.

               “Shut up!” he roared, taking a knife to my lips. I nod silently, more tears escaping my eyes, as I watch him shuck down his pants.

             “All of you get away from her!” someone stepped in.

              “Who the hell is that guy?” Harley inquired, angrily.

            “I don’t know boss.” One of them said dumbfounded, before there was a shot that went off, and a drop of a body.

          “The little bastard has a gun!” the attacker roared, whipping around, before being stumped in his manhood. He keeled over in pain.

             “Don’t move!” a voice warned, pressing the gun to the temple of the man’s head.

            “No, you don’t move!” all the men stood around my hero, pointing their guns. My hero let out a light laugh.

           “Now now boys, let’s be civil about things—“ my hero had said calmy. 

           “Move the freakin’ gun from his freakin’ head!” a quivering voice demanded.

           “Alright, alright...” He slowly backed the gun away, before swinging the gun at Godspeed into the nose of the man behind him. He wasn’t done there, he shot two unsuspecting men, and shot Harley. They were all rolling over in pain, and he quickly went over to me, and swooped me up into his arms.

           I  was shaken so badly, I couldn’t help but sob heavily. I looked up to see who my hero was—it was him, the last person I would ever call on or even thought to have come to my rescue. All life seemed to be sucked out of me, as I gasped, and lulled my head back into blackness.