Ember Bianchi was dying. She knew it. She hadn't eaten anything in days. The only water she had to drink was from filthy puddles on the street. She slept in decaying garbage, which kept her frail body warm. Today she didn't even have the energy to move. She had collapsed into some garbage in an unfamiliar alley early that morning and hadn't moved an inch. 'A perfectly miserable end to a horrific existence,' she thought.
Suddenly, there were people everywhere. Many scattered and ran out of the alley. Quite a few women remained, scantily clad and seeming to wait for something. Maybe, like her, they waited for Death. The thought of not dying alone brought tears to Ember's eyes.
A few moments later, the girls were in a frenzy. Apparently Death had arrived. Ember's tears fell more frequently. She didn't want to die. Hearing boots making crunching noises on gravel, leaves, and garbage sent Ember into hysterics. "I don't want to die!" she sobbed. As the boots stopped next to her, she shouted, "Please! I want to live! Don't take me away!"
A face appeared above hers. Ghostly white with black lips, dark eyes, and long hair, 'Death is strangely beautiful,' Ember thought through her sobs. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to go with him, after all.'
Through the haze of starvation, dehydration, and desperation, Ember heard him speak, his voice a beautiful baritone. "Can you hear me, little girl?"
"Yes," she croaked. "I never knew Death would be so handsome."
He chuckled. "Why thank you for the compliment. But I'm not Death. Sorry to burst your bubble. What's your name, little girl?"
"I'm Ember," she managed to say. "And... I'm not... little."
Her comment earned another chuckle. "Well, Ember, you look little to me."
"I'm... 19... just short..." She was quickly running out of energy. "Please, help me."
"Why are you here, Ember? What's wrong?" He looked at her with indifference.
"No home. No food. Sick. Going to die..." A tear trickled down her dirty cheek. "I don't want to die."
"Fighting spirit. I like it." He started fiddling with something out of view. There was the sound of a cap being screwed off of something, and the mysterious man lifted her head. "Here, drink this. Should delay the dying for a little while."
Water. Clean water. It was heaven. She tried to gulp it down, but it was pulled away. She felt a little sick.
"Too much water when dehydrated isn't good, little girl. I will give you more in a little while. I have some business to conduct, then we will get you out of here. Sit tight." His face disappeared.
Ember was terrified. "Wait! Don't leave me!"
His face popped back into view. "Calm down, Ember. I'm not leaving you. You're in my alley. I won't leave you here." He gave her a smile and disappeared again.
Knowing she had no choice but to trust this stranger, Ember tried her best to relax. She listened to the man talk to the women and heard a hiss she rarely got to know: a Zydrate gun. The man must be a Zydrate dealer. He could be dangerous. But, Ember knew she had no choice but to trust him now. She would die either way, potentially.
Eventually, the hiss of the gun stopped, and she heard the man's crunching steps approach. His face came into view again. "Time to get up, buttercup," he said.
"I can't," Ember said, voice a little stronger from the water. "I can barely move."
"Oh. Right. OK, hold on." He crouched down next to her.
She felt his hands and arms underneath her. Then she was in the air, nestled up against the stranger's body. She gasped in pain, her joints stiff from inactivity.
"Jeez, you really ARE a little girl. There is nothing to you!" He looked down at her in shock. "Are you alright?"
"Just stiff..." She turned into him. "You're so warm..."
"I think we've established that I'm sexy." He grinned down at her.
"Where are we going?" Ember whispered.
"Home. So we can shower and feed you."
"What is your name?"
"They call me GraveRobber."
"Do you have a real name?"
"What is this, 20 Questions?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and fell silent.
"You mentioned you were sick," GraveRobber said a few moments later. "Care to explain?"
"I have an infection," she replied quietly. "From being dirty."
"We will take a look. Ah, here we are. Casa de Zydrate. Now, I'm going to stand you up so I can get my keys. Lean on me and the house, alright?" He waited for her to nod.
Ember's knees were weak and almost gave out on her a few times. As soon as the door was unlocked, she was scooped back up and carried inside. He sat her down on a wooden chair and she looked around.
It was a small, slightly dilapidated house with very modest, used furnishings. It looked cozy and lived-in, with small personal affects scattered about. He definitely lived alone.
"So," he said loudly from the next room. "Since you haven't had anything to eat for awhile, we will start slowly." There was some rattling, sloshing, and whirring. GraveRobber came back, sans jacket, carrying a bowl and spoon. "Ta da! Chicken Noodle Soup."
The smell was intoxicating. Ember's stomach immediately woke up and snarled loudly. As he set the bowl and spoon down in front of her, she shakily reached for the spoon. All of the soup was sloshed out of the spoon before it reached her mouth. She turned red.
"Good try, good try." He smiled at her. He gently took the spoon from her. Stirring the soup, he looked at her. "Let's get something straight, little girl. I'm not one for helping people. When I choose to, there's something I see in that person I feel needs to be saved. But, regardless of that, if the person refuses to try to help themselves, I will walk away from them and not look back. So, I will help you for as long as I can, just do not stop trying to help yourself. Deal?"
"Deal," Ember agreed, giving a little nod. "And thank you."
"Welcome. Now open wide."
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Ember managed to eat half of the bowl of soup and some water before she had to quit. The warmth of the meal alone brought back some life to her cheeks. She smiled to GraveRobber. "That was delicious."
"Good. Now, do you think you can stand yet?" He stood up.
"I can try," Ember said, gripping the arms of her chair. Getting her legs under her, she lifted herself up and straightened. Going to take a step, she lost her balance and began to fall.
She fell into his arms. She looked up at him, in awe. He stared down at her, somewhat awestruck himself.
"Great job, Ember," he finally managed. "I will help you." He wrapped an arm around her tiny waist.
He guided her down a hallway and stopped at a door on the right. He turned on the light to reveal a bathroom with a huge claw foot tub. He sat her down on the closed toilet seat lid. "I'll run you a bath and find you something to wear. Sit tight." He turned on the bathtub faucets, tested the water temperature, and went out the door.
He came back a few moments later. "I'm afraid I'm not equipped to have a little girl stay with me, so an old shirt and pair of drawstring shorts will have to do." He put the clothes on the sink counter and looked at her. "Please tell me you can handle this yourself."
Blushing, she shook her head. "I don't have much for strength yet..."
"Christ," he muttered. "Please tell me you're wearing a bra and panties."
"Yes, of course I am!" Ember snapped.
"Thank God for small favors," he muttered again. "Alright, arms up." He pulled her dress up and over her head, revealing a plain black bra. He gulped. He carefully pulled off her leggings.
Ember yelped in pain, and whimpered. A few tears fell down her dirty, tear-stained face. Little gasps escaped as she tried to calm herself.
Bewildered, GraveRobber looked down to her legs, trying to figure out what happened. His heart sank as he saw two angry red incision sites around both thighs, obviously infected and pus-filled. He looked up at her, pity like a mask over his face. He wiped away her tears and caressed her face. "I'm so sorry, little girl. Even more sorry that it will get worse before it gets better."
She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of a kind hand. Opening them again, she said, "I'm used to pain."
He looked at her curiously for awhile before saying, "I could give you Zydrate to help." He looked down at the incisions. "Because cleaning them will be excruciating."
"To help me sleep, I will take some. I need to be alert in the bath," she whispered.
"To help you sleep then," he agreed. "Now, come here. Let's get this over with." He scooped her up in his arms and moved her to the tub. Despite the dirt and smell, GraveRobber struggled to calm himself. The little wisp of a girl was practically naked in his arms. Her fighting spirit and demure demeanor turned him on. And with scars like she had on her legs, her story was bound to be something horrifying. He felt strong as he cared for her.
Slowly, he lowered her into the water and knelt next to the tub. As she winced and hissed as the water washed over her wounds, he winced and hissed inside. Waiting a moment for her to acclimate to the water, he commenced with washing her.
It turned out that her hair was an auburn color, not black. She had a green eye and a brown eye. Her skin was the color of ivory. Sadly, she had scars around her shoulders and all over her arms and torso. She looked like she could be a scalpel slut, but from what she'd said, that obviously wasn't the case.
When he was finished, GraveRobber had to carefully stand her up, quickly wrap her in a towel, and lift her out of the tub. She was completely exhausted. "Alright, Ember. We have to get those wet clothes off and get you into new ones."
"Just do it," she whispered. "I'm too tired to care."
"Alright..." Carefully, he unhooked her bra and pulled it away. Quickly he pulled the tee shirt on her, before he stood there and flat out oggled her. Then came the really hard part. "Here, little girl. Hold the towel like this." He positioned it so he wouldn't see anything after he pulled off her plain black panties and put the shorts on her.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "I feel so much better."
"Well, you look and smell a lot better, too." He grinned. "Alright, time to clean those incisions, Ember." He grabbed rubbing alcohol and swabs. "I'm sorry for how much this will hurt."
"I know. I'm ready. You can start." She gave him a small but beautiful smile.
So it began. He would drain the incisions of their pus and then wipe them down with alcohol. At one point, Ember almost lost consciousness from the pain. Finally, it was over. He quickly cleaned everything up and gently carried her to his bed.
"Where will you sleep, Mister GraveRobber?" Ember asked sleepily.
"Don't worry about me. I will crash on the sofa." He gave her a soft smile as he moved a strand of damp hair away from her face.
"Not to sound weird, but... could you stay next to me? I don't want to be alone..." She looked nervously up at him.
Pushing away dirty thoughts he gave a reassuring smile. "Let me go get the Zydrate and I will be right back." When she nodded, he hurried to the kitchen and grabbed his one remaining vial and the injector.
She was almost asleep when he returned. He quickly changed into his sleep shorts. Grabbing a make-up removing wipe, he removed his job makeup and turned back to the bed, preparing the gun.
She was looking at him, amazed. "You are even more handsome now."
"Thank you... you don't look too bad cleaned up, either. Are you ready?" When she nodded, he climbed into the bed and quickly injected her with the blue liquid. To his surprise, she snuggled up to him and was quickly asleep. His last thoughts were, "She's so beautiful. I could almost get used to his."