Rare Attraction

Rare Attraction [2]

        An unpleasant silence consumed the atmosphere as we stood across from each other. The fierce, ravenous eyes of the surrounding men wickedly caressed our bodies, causing a demanding urge to flee. Despite the malicious nature of their movements, the men seemed to contrast it with an oddly robotic manner. Not once did they blink, their focus strictly trained upon us. It was as if they were being controlled by a hidden power.

        The woman took a break from her chanting to stare at us, the fire slowly dying down. Her tear-stricken eyes had me frozen in place. I could almost distinguish the history and emotion in them. There was grief, misery, and the most compelling, regret. The bald man turned his head, inhuman resentment twisting his blunt features as he laid his gaze up the pitiful woman.

         "Who told you to stop, witch!" the man yelled, extracting a desperate shriek from the woman's crumpled being. She continued to glance pleadingly at us, her eyes brimming with tears when the man behind her struck the back of her head with a powerful blow. I gasped aloud, my heart sinking as I watched her call out in pain and fall onto her knees.

         The woman's arms instinctively shielded her mangled body, attempting to conserve the few unbruised patches of her skin, but she was no match against the monsters. All at once, they began to beat her, sending cruel kicks into her weak chest. Blow after blow, the woman's resistance faded, her movements decreasing as the impacts to her lungs squeezed the air out of her.

         Watching the young woman being beaten was tough and punishing. I felt my insides contorting as I sat there, a silent spectator to the agonizing beating. With a trembling voice, I called out in protest, "Please stop!"

         The men tensed, their blows slowing to a temporary stop. Even as they stared at me in disgust, they waited for me to continue. "I don't know what's going on. Hell, I wish I did. But I know for a fact that we don't worship Satan and we've never done anything wrong. I'm begging you to let us go."

         The man pointed his knife at me and shook it in anger. "Shut the hell up, and stop lying! You're all going to burn tonight."

         Behind him, the men finally got the woman back up to her feet and forced her to begin chanting. The leader grinned and started stalking towards us. The knife suddenly flew from his hands and disappeared into the thick forest. The men flew back and hit the cement hard. I turned to see that dad's palm was facing towards them.

        The leader calmly reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a silver gun. He aimed it towards me, and before I could even react, my father immediately pushed me back. I slammed into Alastair, but he didn't budge. An ear-piercing bang erupted through out the air, deafening my hearing for a long moment. My dad's left shoulder swung back sharply, and he fell onto his knees. His screams of agony sent chills down my spine while it caused the man to smile with pleasure. I watched as layers of my father's skin began to slide away from his body. My mother rushed over to him while fear flowed through my veins.

       Alastair stepped away from me and slowly made his way towards the man. He took his hand and balled it into a fist. The gun crumbled to nothing in the man's hand. He swung his arms out sharply, but stopped when my dad weakly grabbed onto his ankle. "We need to leave!"

         "I can kill them all!" Alastair yelled back.

         "They're under a spell. They can't control what they're doing. Do you really think it's alright to kill all of these innocent men?" Dad argued, his voice frail, but confident. Once I heard that, my respect for him grew. His skin was literally shedding, however, he was worried about the men that had caused his injuries.