Ghostface Killer(2)

Holy shit. He found me. The man I pickpocketed. I breathe erratically through my nose as he continues to cover my mouth.

"That's right. Be scared my sly little fox." He runs one finger across my forehead and down my temple. "You take something from me, it's only fair I take something from you."

Fuck, fuck. I continue to struggle. His calm tone and threatening words are the scariest thing I have ever encountered. Scarier than the predators and pimps and thieves who slither the streets late at night. Scarier than the abusive, neglectful foster homes I was forced to live in. Scarier than the starvation that follows me everywhere.

He rubs his pelvis between my legs, and I whimper. Warm tears pooling in my trembling eyes. I will fight him to the death. I will never surrender. No matter how big or how powerful he is. I won't make it easy. I won't just roll over and let him have me.

He grinds himself against me again, and in a fit of fear, I bite his palm.

"Sonofafuckingbitch!" He shakes his hand and laughs as I scream. "You've got some serious fire, huh?" He grabs my throat and squeezes, silencing me.

Trapped in his choke hold, I can only stand there and quiver as he rakes his soulless eyes over every inch of me. Over every crease of my tense, terrified face.

"You're very . . . innocent looking," he states, strangely. I don't understand his tone. "But sly for someone so young." It's like he's examining me. "Where's my fucking watch?" He clamps his hand tighter around my windpipe. I choke as I try to tell him it's in my bag. Please just take it! Take it and leave me alone. I silently plead.




 

 

"Scream again and I will snap your neck," he warns as he lets up on his death grip. Air slowly returns to my lungs, and I gasp desperately. "Give it to me."

I dig though the bag, frantically feeling for the chain or smooth metal. Once I find it, I yank it out and hold it up, all while he holds me hostage with his hand and his harrowing stare.

"Thank you." He snatches it away and places it right back where it was, the inside pocket of his coat. "Now"-he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks until I cry out-" what should I do with you?"

"How 'bout let me go!" I scratch at his hand.

"So you can target some other poor sucker?"

"You calling yourself a sucker?" I smart off.

"Do I look like a sucker right now?" He pulls my blonde locks harder, and my scalp burns.

"No!" I yelp.

"That's right, sly little fox. I never have been, or ever will be, a sucker. And I think you need to be taught a lesson by a non-sucker." He pushes me forward so my stomach lands on his thigh, knocking the wind out of me. My coat falls over my head from the sharp angle, then a kiss of cold air pinches my bare ass. He pulled my pants down!

I feel the impact of the first slap, and I jolt from the surprise and the sting. He's spanking me!

"Bad little girls get punished." He chuckles darkly as he hit me again and again. He thinks it's fucking funny!

"Get off me!" I struggle as the needling December air and his hot slaps merge into one annoying sensation across my naked ass.

"Stop!" I screech, and I swear he hit me harder just because he can. When he's finished, he rips his leg from underneath me, and I fall flat on my face. I'm winded, in pain, and totally ashamed. I don't want to get up. I just want to cry in the dirt like the street rat I am. But I don't. I refuse. So, I push myself off the ground without his permission or order. He doesn't say a word, he just watches as I stand and pull up my thin black leggings. I keep my head held high even though I feel like a helpless child. I haven't been a child in a very long time. Three years, to be exact. Ever since I decided being homeless was safer than having a home.

"The spirit in you," the tall, well-dressed man with the paddle for a palm says, almost in wonder. Weirdo.

He fixes himself, brushing off his arms and adjusting his coat.

"Are we fucking done?" I spit. The tears are threatening, and the last thing I want is for this asshole to see me cry.

"Almost." He snatches my wrist and pulls the thin gold ring around my index finger off.

"Hey!" I lunge at him to get it back. "That's mine, you fucker!" 

"The mouth on you!" He backhands me while I'm still in motion, and I fly back against the brick wall like a tennis ball being volleyed. I smack my head and cradle my face. Those tears I didn't want him to see? There's no stopping them now. They run down my face like pouring rain.

"You steal from me, I steal from you." I spy him putting the ring inside his jacket pocket. Anger spikes in my chest.

"An eye for an eye, huh?" I snivel, hiding my inflamed cheek.