Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 6•

Hands working cursorily, I gather my belongings, lock up, and exit the café.
What ignites a sense of apprehension within me, is the absolute darkness and the spine-chilling desolateness of the street.

I set about moving in the direction leading home, after a good internal pep talk.
The distant sounds I begin to hear cause my hair to stand on ends and my heart to begin beating rapidly.

The world begins to stir, as three broad figures appear from a street corner, stumbling and laughing intemperately the whole way.
Their shadows, created by the scarce street lightning, loom over my frame.
Intuitively, I tighten my hold on my purse.

I've read somewhere that if you convince your mind of something, it can easily be tricked into acting on it, so that's what I do.
I attempt to quell the soaring trepidation and walk forward, with my head slightly bowed, sidestepping the group.

To my absolute horror, one of the men, steps into my course, impeding any further procession.

When I lift my gaze off the ground, I find myself staring at hazy, bloodshot eyes, which crinkle at the corner when his mouth curves into a complacent smile.

My jaw is locked tightly, even when a callous hand, belonging to a man who inconspicuously appears at my right, caresses a lock of my hair; I'm quick to sharply cock my head to the side, successfully freeing my hair from the offender's hand.

I only manage a single receding step, when my back hits a solid stand; in that second, sound awareness of the situation shakes me into action.

Using their disoriented states against them, I profess my capitulation, through a calculated slump of my shoulders, and I wait for them to let their guard down.

Once I notice their vigilance slipping, I use my pre-coordinated moves; slightly twisting and immediately ducking -anticipating someone to attempt to grab me- and skilfully evading every single one of them.

Jubilant, I prepare my legs to sprint in full speed, but my triumph is cut short when another one of the group intercepts me.
Once more, my clear-headed state gives me the upper hand, and I glimpse the man half a step away, instantly doubling back.

But this time the man, who is twice my size, seems to be just as quick, as he wraps both his arms around me, seizing me in place.
I refuse to allow the sinister hoots of laughter to deter me from retaliating, so I summon up all the self defense classes my father made sure I matriculated.

Starting with the man holding me captive, I bend slightly to get to the lower third of his thigh, and I plunge the ball of my thumb onto his sciatic nerve.
He doubles up, grunting frustratedly as his grip inadvertently loosens, which comes as a boon to me as I turn and deliver a blow to his jaw with the ball of my hand, sending him a stumbling mess backwards.

"Looks like we have a fighter" A man muses, right before snorting something, eliciting humourless laughs from his friends.

The next man doesn't allow for any chances, lounging forward and enclosing both his hands around my throat without any initiatives; recovering instantly, I dig both my thumbs into the sockets of his eyes.
As expected, I'm free once again and the man is busy nursing his harmed eyes.

At this point, my heart is thumping furiously and the Adrenaline coursing through my veins fuels me into action.

Relentlessly, they continue coming at me.
Man number 3 seems to have had it with my elusiveness, because he yells "Enough!" in french and goes straight for my waist with his massive hands, lifting me up and off the ground as though I'm a prize he's won after enduring tremendous adversities.