C35 One Of The Hated

Annabelle quickly tried to grab the person in her path so she wouldn’t fall.

She reached out instinctively, her hand grabbing the rough material of a coat just as a sharp, burning pain shot through her face.

A slap, hard and unrestrained, cracked across her cheek, sending her sprawling to the cold, unyielding ground.

Her body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and before she could even gather her bearings, a heavy weight bore down on her. A knee pressed into her back, grinding her against the concrete, making her ribs scream in protest.

She gasped for air, every inhale a struggle, as a hand wrenched her head back by the hair, stretching her neck painfully.

“You don’t belong here, bitch,” a voice sneered close to her ear, the words laced with malice and disdain. “Go back to the hole you crawled out from.”

She tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat, trapped by the icy fear and the crushing pain that radiated from every nerve.

The alcohol stench from him reminded her of her many moments of terror. She knew nothing she had endured could compare to this though.

This was more.

Then, as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, the man released her.

Annabelle’s body slumped forward, and she barely had time to gasp before the sharp, punishing impact of his boot drove into her stomach.

She cried out, the wind knocked from her lungs, and another kick followed.

Then another. She felt her ribs protest under each brutal blow, and her vision swam with tears. Each time she tried to curl up, tried to shield herself, his foot was there, breaking down her defences, punishing her for every attempt.

Somewhere in her mind, she knew she should fight, should do something, anything, but her body was weakening with each impact, her strength slipping away.

She coughed, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth just as she felt a stickiness down her legs.

Her stomach twisted as another kick made her convulse, a bitter stream of bile and blood spilling onto the ground.

“Please,” she heard herself whispering.

Her voice was thin and pitiful, barely more than a breath. “Please… please…”

But her pleas only seemed to fuel his rage. The man crouched down, a hand gripping her chin, tilting her face up toward him.

Annabelle blinked through the haze of pain, her vision clearing just enough to make out the mask that covered his face, the cold, pitiless eyes staring back at her from behind it.

She tried to look away, to shut her eyes, but his grip held her firm, forcing her to confront the cruelty etched in his gaze.

“Pathetic,” he hissed, pushing her head back roughly, and her head snapped against the ground with a dull thud.

Stars burst across her vision, and a faint, keening sound escaped her lips, a wordless, desperate plea that barely broke through her bruised and bloodied mind. She could hear herself mumbling, the words slipping from her in a weak, broken chant.

“Please… please…”

The man’s laughter was a cruel, twisted sound, low and mocking. “Keep begging. I like the sound of it.”

Her vision began to fade, the edges of the world blurring as her body’s strength waned, and she could feel herself slipping, a wave of darkness threatening to pull her under.

But a spark of survival flared within her, refusing to let her drift into unconsciousness. Refusing to let her give up.

Then she saw it.

The glint of something metallic in his hand.

A blade!

A thin, cruel-looking blade that caught the dim light, reflecting it with a sinister gleam.

Her heart stuttered, fear clawing at her mind. She tried to scream, to pull away, but her voice was lost, her body too broken to respond.

She instinctively shut her eyes, every nerve bracing for the feel of that cold metal slicing into her flesh. Yet she couldn't keep her eyes closed as she opened it again and tried to move.

The blade drew closer, the silver edge shimmering in her hazy vision.

Her mind screamed, but all that escaped her lips was a weak, broken whimper.

A last, desperate plea that sounded hollow even to her own ears.

Just as the man’s hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, she thought she heard something.

Then the man above her stiffened, his grip loosening in surprise, and for one heart-stopping moment, his attention shifted.

Before she could make sense of what was happening, she felt his hand release her head, letting it drop back against the ground with a bone-jarring impact.

Stars exploded across her blurred vision.

Her mind swam, barely registering the sound of a sharp, pained cry that cut through the silence.

Her attacker stumbled back, his curses filling the air as he grappled with an unseen force.

Annabelle blinked, dazed, her mind struggling to catch up with what was happening around her.

She heard a yell, a sharp cry of pain, and then silence.

Her instincts screamed at her to move, to get up, to run, but her body refused to obey. She lay there, frozen, her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to the silence, wondering if he was gone or if he was just waiting to strike again.

Footsteps sounded, coming closer this time, steady and quick.

She tensed, her body curling up instinctively, waiting for the next blow. Her mind flashed to the knife, the glint of silver that had been poised to cut into her, and she tried to move away, yet her body didn’t cooperate.

She started feeling herself drifting as her eyes closed.

Her mind fought hard to stay awake, but her eyelids felt so heavy.

Still, she managed to force them open as she felt like she was floating.

Annabelle’s eyes fluttered open, just barely, and through her blurred vision, she caught a glimpse of a face. Or rather, of eyes.

Chilling, intense blue and framed by sharp features that were both familiar and unfamiliar.

Like a shadow of a memory she couldn’t fully grasp.

The light was too dim to make out more than a vague silhouette, but she felt an odd sense of recognition.

Her lips moved, forming a soundless whisper, a name that drifted up from some dark corner of her mind.

She knew him.

He was one of the men she hated.

Her scrambling mind finally grabbed onto it as her eyes closed and gave up on her.

He was the one whose name meant Angel.