Running Game(80)
The English gentleman grinned, shaking his head lightly before wandering back towards the pub.
I leaned against the wall of a nearby stoop, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. My mind wandered, wondering how I might paint my surroundings.
Effortlessly, I took in the details of the French Quarter. Not a whole lot of people were out; the few stragglers along the pavement were isolated into pairs or small groups from one another, with the odd speck of a person wandering around between them. None of them had any major defining features, which pleased me.
That would make for broad strokes, I considered to myself. Put the emphasis on the buildings, and paint some ghosts to meander alongside them…
The overall lighting was dim but poetic, casting bright bursts of light in front of bar fronts and under the occasional streetlight. I enjoyed the darkness that stretched between these parts, hoping to encroach across the area… but it was never enough to blacken the French Quarter.
There was such history here, and so many drunken escapades that no book could ever hope to properly catalogue them. New Orleans was such a wistful place, so full of life and light, even in the dark…
Lex still wasn’t back. I was starting to grow somewhat impatient. He said that he’d only be gone a couple of minutes… what’s taking him?
That’s when I felt the firm hand, clasping over my mouth. Before I could even scream, I was being dragged backwards into an alley, away from the light, and a cocked gun pressed into my temple.
“Scream, and you die,” a gruff voice told me. “Do you understand? Not even a fucking peep.”
I nodded, and the hand slipped off of my lips… only for someone else to shove a gag into my mouth, tying it around my head.
Purely out of fear, I started trying to smack or punch whoever my aggressors were. I saw a quick glance – there were two of them, both dressed like thugs. My hands were restrained, and a blindfold was tied around my eyes.
“Mmmf!” I exclaimed, but it was useless.
I was being dragged backwards through the alley, stumbling blindly along with them. They were leading me away from the street, forcing me to follow them into the dark…
Oh god, no, not like this, I sobbed in my head.
Suddenly, my palms were slapped against the brick wall, and my legs spread. A pair of vicious, hungry hands tugged at the bottom of my dress, whipping it up over my hips…
“Mmm, such an uptight little bitch,” one of the thugs chuckled. “Wonder if that pussy is this tight, too…”
“One way to find out,” the other commented directly into my ear. He was the one assaulting my dress, and I just waited for the sound of ripping fabric as I struggled to fight my way out of this.
This can’t be happening, I pleaded into my head. I should have just fucking gone back with him to the bar. Oh god, they dragged me back here, he won’t find me…
“Oh shit, this bitch is wearing a thong!” The aggressor holding me pinned chortled quietly. “Well, luck be a lady tonight…”
I felt my thong being ripped down my thighs, and I realized that I was totally, resoundingly fucked…
“Hey, who the fuck is–”
There was the sound of scuffling shoes, and a hard blow. The other thug went down, crumpling into some boxes. I felt the guy holding me down release his grip and take a step back.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarled. I ripped at the knot of my blindfold, desperate to free myself and see what was really happening.
Whatever was going on, it was a brawl. Fists flew, shoes scraped against the uneven pavement, and grunts of pain were exchanged.
I finally tugged the blindfold free, just in time to watch Lex Lambert dig his knee into the gut of my would-be rapist, dropping him to his knees and palms. Lex paused to check me, and I saw someone rise up behind him – the other asshole, by the looks of it.
With the gag in my mouth, I couldn’t shout at the danger or untie my own wrists, so I bobbed my head. Lex turned, just in time to take a walloping blow to the side of his cheek. He slipped, steadying himself against the wall, before bouncing free and headbutting the guy in the nose.
“Goddammit!” The thug screeched. “By dose!” Blood was gushing from his nose, which was unnaturally bent and partially flattened. “You broke by dose, you fucking biece of shit!”
“I’ll break more of you if you touch this fucking woman again,” Lex snarled, digging the heel of his boot into the guy’s balls.
Whimpering, he clutched himself and collapsed down to his knees. Lex lifted his foot and delivered another kick, this time straight to the side of the guy’s head.
“That’ll teach ya,” he muttered to himself.