The Revenant

one: Everything She Wants

Author’s Introduction: this is like those when the mafia man kidnaps you stories but vice versa and less wattpad-ish. oh! it is also more on the thriller and character growth than romance. no dark romance dub con  so if you like that too bad.

I should really stop and focus on writing one story at a time. But prefer doing this. I'll try my hardest to finish this story !
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The rain was always comforting to hear.

Your cab rattles as it idles near the curb, and you wonder, not for the first time, if it’ll give out on you. The faint smell of stale coffee lingers in the car from a thermos you can’t remember finishing. Outside, rain starts to spit against the windshield. Another day, another dollar.

The passenger door creaks open, and an elderly woman shuffles into the backseat, her tiny frame practically swallowed by a fur coat that smells faintly of mothballs. She’s got a crooked smile, one that would probably come off charming if she wasn’t staring at you with unnerving intensity.

“Handsome fella like you must get all the ladies,” she croons, her voice laced with flirtation.

You grunt in response, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "Where to?”

She gives an address halfway across town, and you pull into the street, rain now turning into a steady downpour.

"Used to know a man like you," she says, almost to herself, tapping her long fingernails on the armrest. “Rugged, rough around the edges.”

You force a tight smile, nodding as you keep your eyes on the road. She doesn't seem to need much prompting. It’s like her words keep tumbling out, filling the space in the cab.

Five long minutes later, you pull up at her destination. She holds your gaze just a little too long as she pays, and for a second, her hand brushes yours—deliberate, lingering. You shake her off with a polite nod, keeping your expression blank as she leaves. She waves once before disappearing into the night.

The rain hasn’t let up, and you’re about to light a cigarette when a young kid—maybe seventeen—practically falls into your cab, slamming the door and wiping their nose on their sleeve. Goth-type, dyed hair, piercings. They don’t look at you, just mutter an address and fold their arms tight around their chest.

You take off without a word. The radio hums softly with some classical piece that doesn’t fit the mood. You drive, glancing occasionally in the rearview, catching the kid’s reflection. Red-rimmed eyes, jaw clenched, staring out into the rain. Whatever happened to them tonight, it’s heavy.

Without thinking, you reach into the glove compartment and toss back a chocolate bar. They catch it, blinking in surprise. No thanks, but they rip the wrapper open and eat it in silence.

For a minute, it’s quiet, just the sound of the rain and the steady rumble of the engine. When you pull up to their stop, they mumble a soft “Thanks,” before getting out. You watch as they vanish into a run-down apartment complex.

Life isn't fair. Poor kid.

You sighed heavily as you sat behind the wheel of your taxi, the worn leather seat a familiar comfort against your back. Another night, another shift, and the same city lights flickered through the rain-soaked streets. You ran a hand through your disheveled hair, feeling the weight of your exhaustion settle like a heavy blanket. The insomnia had been relentless lately, leaving you tired and irritable, but the job was all you had to keep the bills paid.

The streets of the city were alive with a cacophony of sounds: the distant wail of sirens, the chatter of nightlife, and the soft hum of your old engine as you waited for your next fare. You glanced at the clock on your dashboard, the numbers ticking by like time itself was mocking you. As you took a deep breath, trying to summon some semblance of patience, a figure approached your taxi.