Like a pack of hungry wolves, they begin advancing on my hiding spot. With shaking hands, I reach into my purse and grab my can of pepper spray, having barely enough sense to check it’s pointed in the right direction before pressing the button.
The blond one rounds the corner first, and I slam my thumb down on the trigger, squeezing my eyes shut tight in case the mist blows back on me.
It doesn’t work.
Panic squeezes my throat as I try once more to deploy my pepper spray, but all I get is a weak fizzle of air. I’m not sure if it’s expired or damaged, but it hardly matters now.
“No,” I whisper, jamming the trigger over and over. “No, no, no!”
“That’s cute. Were you trying to use that?” The can is snatched out of my hands, and I gaze up in horror to find the blond man standing over me with a vicious smirk.
“Get away from me!” I scurry back on hands and knees as panic takes over. “Don’t touch me!”
He laughs, grabbing my ankle with ease and hauling me out from behind the dumpster. I aim a kick at his face with my free heel, but I only manage to clip him in the jaw. The other two men surround me, grabbing my arms and yanking me to my feet while the blond one watches with a haughty expression.
I scream, sounding all too much like the raccoon I just saved. But unlike the furry bandit, no one is coming to save me. No one in Moriton would dare stop to help another human being.
The blond takes over for Brenden, holding me still. Brenden drags his blade lightly across my inner arm while staring deep into my eyes, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. “Do you like pain, baby? Because you’re about to be in a lot of it.” He reaches up, sliding the flat of the knife along my cheek. “If you scream nice and loud for me, I’ll make your death quicker than the last whore.”
Panic freezes my muscles and wraps an iron fist around my windpipe as the men leer at me. My breaths come in shuddering gasps, and the lack of oxygen makes my vision fade.
This is it. They’re going to rape me and kill me. I’m… going to die.
I close my eyes with a shuddering breath, steeling my shoulders.If that’s true, then I’m not going without a fight. No matter how terrified I might be. No matter how futile it is.
I won’t give these bastards the satisfaction of watching me break. Never again.
“Aw. Is she going to cry? How adorab—OOMPH!”
My knee makes contact with Brenden's balls, and he keels over, crumpling to the ground with a cry of anguish. I try to step back, but another hand grabs my shoulder, attempting to haul me off balance. With an animalistic snarl, I whip around, sinking my teeth into the blond man's forearm. Metallic warmth coats my tongue as the man’s scream pierces the cool night air, but neither is enough to distract me.
A fist strikes my face while another grabs a handful of my hair, yanking my head back and attempting to dislodge my grip.
“Get this crazy bitch off me! Fuck!”
“I’m trying, Scott! She won’t let up!”
Another strike—this time to my rib cage. An explosion of pain follows a sharp crack, but all it does is add fuel to the fire.
My victim—Scott—raises his fist to hit me again, but this time, I’m ready for it. Just before he swings, I release his armand sink to the ground, catching both men by surprise. Instead of my face, Brenden’s buddy takes the brunt of the punch, and the shock makes him loosen his grip on my hair.
Using his distraction to my advantage, I lunge, another scream echoing into the air as I rake my fingernails down Brenden’s face. Skin and blood come away, staining my hands with awful red.
A moment of satisfaction is all I’m granted before three sets of hands grip my arms and haul me to my feet. Strength failing, I let out one last piercing scream as I aim a kick at the knee of the balding man. Sidestepping the blow easily, he lets out a cruel laugh.
“Got you, bitch.”
“Fuck you.” I spit in his face.
He reels back with a look of disgust, lowering his head to wipe off my saliva onto the shoulder of his jacket. “Nasty fucking bitch. I’m going to enjoy cutting you open when they’re done with you.”
Brenden steps closer with an evil grin. The bloody, oozing marks on his face only serve to make him look more sadistic, and a lump of fear begins to form in the pit of my throat.
“Ready to play?” he asks.
I try not to let my terror show, but the laugh that echoes through the alley tells me I’m doing a poor job of it. “I’m not going to make it easy for you fucks,” I hiss, glaring at Brenden with all the hatred I can muster. “You might as well let me go.”
Another round of laughter, and Brenden steps closer, pressing the blade to the side of my throat. There’s a sharp sting, and a trickle of blood slides down my throat, pooling in the grooves on my collarbone.
