06-13-2015, 02:02 PM
The sounds and lights of Tier Four's crown jewels faded as Belle walked, until the only thing she could hear was the thick heels of her boots clicking across cracked pavement. Lamp posts became fewer and farther between, turning from clear white circles to aging yellow oblongs that flickered as she passed. They weren't, strictly speaking, necessary - the vaultscrapers of the central district cast illumination that was as bright as any full moon.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything since she'd woken up. She was just about to make her way back to Diamond Avenue to grab a bite to eat when she heard what sounded like arguing from down the next street. Belle continued down to the corner and peered around.
Three men were gathered in front of a building only a few properties down. Two of them looked like your standard high-class thugs – suits, shaved heads, and sunglasses – but the one in the middle of them was different. Standing slightly ahead of the two, his slicked back, pointed white hair shone in the oily light of an overhead lamp.
“Come on, you old bag. Don't make this any harder than it has to be,” the white-haired one was yelling. His voice was just this side of a cackle. “Just give us what we came for and we'll be out of your way.”
Belle froze as another figure entered her field of view. Striding away from the building the three men were facing, a small, bent-backed woman stopped with arms folded behind her.
The woman's voice was just audible. “Like I told your boss and the flunkies that came here last time, I'm not going to pay up.” Somewhere, a dog barked. “Now, scram.”
Belle's eyes narrowed. The old woman was brave but stupid if she thought she stood a chance. It was just her against three, and the men on either side of the white-haired one filled out their suits in a way that made it clear there weren't beer guts lurking underneath. These men were the definition of 'muscle,' the kind the protection rackets liked to employ when they wanted to enforce their 'business practices.'
“Don't fuck with us,” one of the men growled.
“Yeah,” his twin echoed, cracking his knuckles. “Unless you want us to break your legs!”
The white-haired man held up his hand and they stopped talking. “Well, you heard the boys,” he chuckled as they instead started to punch their fists into their opposite palms. “Last chance. After that, I guarantee they'll leave you hobbling around with a walker for the rest of your life.”
There was another bark. The old woman's lips twisted in a smirk and, to Belle's horror, she extended one hand, palm up, and beckoned.
Belle had to do something. If she didn't, the men were going to beat the woman to death. But what could she do? This wasn't like how it was with Lily. These weren't just random cutpurses out looking for an easy score. If Belle jumped in, she was probably going to end up just like her. Her legs trembled, refusing to move.
The leader smirked. “Well, you heard the lady.” He snapped his fingers. “Get her.”
“Stop!”
The two suited gorillas paused in mid-stride, their expressions rippling with confusion. So did the white-haired man's. It took a second for them to realize that the voice had not come from any of them, and they looked down the street, right at Belle.
She stood in the road, her feed straddling the center dividing line. Her knees were still shaking, but at least she could move.
“Who in the Abyss are you?” the spiky-haired goon demanded, bemused. In the background the old lady was pinching the bridge of her nose. Belle was close enough to see now that the constant barking was coming from inside the woman's house, a small dog yapping at one of the windows of her oriental-styled home.
“That's not important,” Belle said with all the firmness and confidence she could muster. In her ears she sounded like a nervous schoolgirl being called out by the teacher for passing notes. She reached into her jacket. They tensed. “What is is that if you don't leave right now, I'm going to call the police!”
The man blinked a couple times. His heavies looked at each other. Then all three of them started to laugh. “Bitch!” he cackled. “My boss owns the police!
“Aw, shit.” The man wiped his eyes with his thumb, letting out a long breath as his laughter petered out. “Ahh. Fuck her up.”
“Fool,” the woman shouted, “get out of here!”
But it was already too late for that. One of the huge men lurched in her direction and swiped for her. Belle dived to the side, just barely making it out of his reach. His fingertips brushed the edge of her jacket as she went to the ground, rolling a few times before coming back up. Her eyes widened.
As the second muscle man made as if to join in, the old woman sprung into action. Back straightening from its slouch, she leaped into the air. Hips level with the man's head, she spun, her leg whipping out and slamming against the side of his skull with a resounding crack. Fragments of broken sunglasses clattered to the pavement as if in slow motion, their owner's knees following, then the rest of him.
The lady followed half a heartbeat after, landing lightly, her arms folding again behind her back.
Belle was so distracted, she almost forgot she was in a fight herself. She felt thick, sweaty fingers curl into her hair and yank. She cried out in pain, wobbling on her heels, and swung her own foot out, hitting the man's bulky shin. She bounced harmlessly off.
Piggy eyes squinted behind shades, a grin spreading on the man's lips. He evidently hadn't seen what had happened behind him, or else didn't care. “Pretty flower,” he whispered. “I don't suppose y'wanna give it to me?”
Belle kicked out again, this time aiming center, and her thick heel slammed straight into his groin. The fingers in her hair tightened for a second, then loosened just enough. She pulled free as the man sunk to one knee, hands clasping his jewels.
She turned to run, took a step, and fell flat onto her face as the heel she had hit him with snapped. She winced, swearing as she tried to kick them off before standing, perched on the tips of her toes as she hobbled for distance.
The man's fist closed around her ankle and pulled. Belle was suddenly dangling upside down, looking into his pained, angry face.
“You're going to pay for tha-AAGH!” he started to say, then pulled back as her nails scratched red lines across his cheek. “Son of a bitch!”
His other fist drew back, clenched hard, and pistoned forward, punching her square in the gut. All of the air in Belle's lungs wheezed out of her with a strangled squeak, her vision swimming black as pain filled her body. Bile rose in her throat as she twitched.
There was a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye, and without warning the large man let her go. She managed to turn her head enough not to come straight down on it, her shoulder slamming onto the pavement. She curled up, struggling to breathe, as the man took a few unsteady steps before flopping to the ground.
The old woman was standing above her, staring down with an expression of distaste that Belle had seen plenty of times in her mirror lately. She opened her mouth to say something, then her eyes went wide as ripples of blue light slammed into her from behind. The force of the white-haired man's stun blast sent her flying, tumbling over Belle's prone form and skidding before coming to a stop several meters away.
The man must have been fighting with the woman while Belle was scuffling. His casual clothes were torn, his pointed nose bloody, and one arm hung limp. This close, Belle could see his angular features, the twist of thin lips and the arch of high eyebrows. His good hand still held the stun gun trained on the old woman as he started to walk forward. “Didn't anyone ever teach you,” he wheezed, “never turn your back on your opponent?”
He chuckled, then spat blood. “Martial arts. What a joke.” He was next to Belle, now, and paused. “And you?”
Belle gagged as the tip of his boot pounded another blow into her stomach.
“I don't know who the fuck you are, but don't. FUCK. WITH. ME!” He punctuated each of his last words with another kick. He breathed hard, wincing. The dog was going crazy. “You'll get yours right after I finish this hag. No one crosses the boss and gets away with it.”
He stepped over her.
~+~+~+~
The rain was pounding, thick and fast from clouds of slate gray. Wind howled through the trees, whistling in the branches. She was scared, her face burning as the storm bathed her with its tears.
“Don't be afraid,” a voice said, and a hand reached through a hole in the bushes. It was a voice she trusted, that much she knew. With trembling fingers, she reached out.
“I won't let them hurt you.”
~+~+~+~
The old woman was stirring, pushing herself onto her elbows as the white-haired man approached, then stopped short. “What the-?”
Belle's hand was clutched around his foot. “No,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Stupid bitch! Let go!” He kicked at her again. Clenching her eyes shut, she whimpered and cried out as blow after blow slammed into her arms and chest. Her fingers locked tighter, and she wailed as he stomped on her wrist. He put his free foot on her head, grinding his heel into her cheek as the light began to fade.
He spat again. “Fine.” He lifted the blaster in her blurring vision. “Have it your way.”
As the darkness took her, she heard a piercing, shrill whistle and the sound of a window shattering. And then she heard, saw, and felt no more.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything since she'd woken up. She was just about to make her way back to Diamond Avenue to grab a bite to eat when she heard what sounded like arguing from down the next street. Belle continued down to the corner and peered around.
Three men were gathered in front of a building only a few properties down. Two of them looked like your standard high-class thugs – suits, shaved heads, and sunglasses – but the one in the middle of them was different. Standing slightly ahead of the two, his slicked back, pointed white hair shone in the oily light of an overhead lamp.
“Come on, you old bag. Don't make this any harder than it has to be,” the white-haired one was yelling. His voice was just this side of a cackle. “Just give us what we came for and we'll be out of your way.”
Belle froze as another figure entered her field of view. Striding away from the building the three men were facing, a small, bent-backed woman stopped with arms folded behind her.
The woman's voice was just audible. “Like I told your boss and the flunkies that came here last time, I'm not going to pay up.” Somewhere, a dog barked. “Now, scram.”
Belle's eyes narrowed. The old woman was brave but stupid if she thought she stood a chance. It was just her against three, and the men on either side of the white-haired one filled out their suits in a way that made it clear there weren't beer guts lurking underneath. These men were the definition of 'muscle,' the kind the protection rackets liked to employ when they wanted to enforce their 'business practices.'
“Don't fuck with us,” one of the men growled.
“Yeah,” his twin echoed, cracking his knuckles. “Unless you want us to break your legs!”
The white-haired man held up his hand and they stopped talking. “Well, you heard the boys,” he chuckled as they instead started to punch their fists into their opposite palms. “Last chance. After that, I guarantee they'll leave you hobbling around with a walker for the rest of your life.”
There was another bark. The old woman's lips twisted in a smirk and, to Belle's horror, she extended one hand, palm up, and beckoned.
Belle had to do something. If she didn't, the men were going to beat the woman to death. But what could she do? This wasn't like how it was with Lily. These weren't just random cutpurses out looking for an easy score. If Belle jumped in, she was probably going to end up just like her. Her legs trembled, refusing to move.
The leader smirked. “Well, you heard the lady.” He snapped his fingers. “Get her.”
“Stop!”
The two suited gorillas paused in mid-stride, their expressions rippling with confusion. So did the white-haired man's. It took a second for them to realize that the voice had not come from any of them, and they looked down the street, right at Belle.
She stood in the road, her feed straddling the center dividing line. Her knees were still shaking, but at least she could move.
“Who in the Abyss are you?” the spiky-haired goon demanded, bemused. In the background the old lady was pinching the bridge of her nose. Belle was close enough to see now that the constant barking was coming from inside the woman's house, a small dog yapping at one of the windows of her oriental-styled home.
“That's not important,” Belle said with all the firmness and confidence she could muster. In her ears she sounded like a nervous schoolgirl being called out by the teacher for passing notes. She reached into her jacket. They tensed. “What is is that if you don't leave right now, I'm going to call the police!”
The man blinked a couple times. His heavies looked at each other. Then all three of them started to laugh. “Bitch!” he cackled. “My boss owns the police!
“Aw, shit.” The man wiped his eyes with his thumb, letting out a long breath as his laughter petered out. “Ahh. Fuck her up.”
“Fool,” the woman shouted, “get out of here!”
But it was already too late for that. One of the huge men lurched in her direction and swiped for her. Belle dived to the side, just barely making it out of his reach. His fingertips brushed the edge of her jacket as she went to the ground, rolling a few times before coming back up. Her eyes widened.
As the second muscle man made as if to join in, the old woman sprung into action. Back straightening from its slouch, she leaped into the air. Hips level with the man's head, she spun, her leg whipping out and slamming against the side of his skull with a resounding crack. Fragments of broken sunglasses clattered to the pavement as if in slow motion, their owner's knees following, then the rest of him.
The lady followed half a heartbeat after, landing lightly, her arms folding again behind her back.
Belle was so distracted, she almost forgot she was in a fight herself. She felt thick, sweaty fingers curl into her hair and yank. She cried out in pain, wobbling on her heels, and swung her own foot out, hitting the man's bulky shin. She bounced harmlessly off.
Piggy eyes squinted behind shades, a grin spreading on the man's lips. He evidently hadn't seen what had happened behind him, or else didn't care. “Pretty flower,” he whispered. “I don't suppose y'wanna give it to me?”
Belle kicked out again, this time aiming center, and her thick heel slammed straight into his groin. The fingers in her hair tightened for a second, then loosened just enough. She pulled free as the man sunk to one knee, hands clasping his jewels.
She turned to run, took a step, and fell flat onto her face as the heel she had hit him with snapped. She winced, swearing as she tried to kick them off before standing, perched on the tips of her toes as she hobbled for distance.
The man's fist closed around her ankle and pulled. Belle was suddenly dangling upside down, looking into his pained, angry face.
“You're going to pay for tha-AAGH!” he started to say, then pulled back as her nails scratched red lines across his cheek. “Son of a bitch!”
His other fist drew back, clenched hard, and pistoned forward, punching her square in the gut. All of the air in Belle's lungs wheezed out of her with a strangled squeak, her vision swimming black as pain filled her body. Bile rose in her throat as she twitched.
There was a flicker of movement from the corner of her eye, and without warning the large man let her go. She managed to turn her head enough not to come straight down on it, her shoulder slamming onto the pavement. She curled up, struggling to breathe, as the man took a few unsteady steps before flopping to the ground.
The old woman was standing above her, staring down with an expression of distaste that Belle had seen plenty of times in her mirror lately. She opened her mouth to say something, then her eyes went wide as ripples of blue light slammed into her from behind. The force of the white-haired man's stun blast sent her flying, tumbling over Belle's prone form and skidding before coming to a stop several meters away.
The man must have been fighting with the woman while Belle was scuffling. His casual clothes were torn, his pointed nose bloody, and one arm hung limp. This close, Belle could see his angular features, the twist of thin lips and the arch of high eyebrows. His good hand still held the stun gun trained on the old woman as he started to walk forward. “Didn't anyone ever teach you,” he wheezed, “never turn your back on your opponent?”
He chuckled, then spat blood. “Martial arts. What a joke.” He was next to Belle, now, and paused. “And you?”
Belle gagged as the tip of his boot pounded another blow into her stomach.
“I don't know who the fuck you are, but don't. FUCK. WITH. ME!” He punctuated each of his last words with another kick. He breathed hard, wincing. The dog was going crazy. “You'll get yours right after I finish this hag. No one crosses the boss and gets away with it.”
He stepped over her.
~+~+~+~
The rain was pounding, thick and fast from clouds of slate gray. Wind howled through the trees, whistling in the branches. She was scared, her face burning as the storm bathed her with its tears.
“Don't be afraid,” a voice said, and a hand reached through a hole in the bushes. It was a voice she trusted, that much she knew. With trembling fingers, she reached out.
“I won't let them hurt you.”
~+~+~+~
The old woman was stirring, pushing herself onto her elbows as the white-haired man approached, then stopped short. “What the-?”
Belle's hand was clutched around his foot. “No,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Stupid bitch! Let go!” He kicked at her again. Clenching her eyes shut, she whimpered and cried out as blow after blow slammed into her arms and chest. Her fingers locked tighter, and she wailed as he stomped on her wrist. He put his free foot on her head, grinding his heel into her cheek as the light began to fade.
He spat again. “Fine.” He lifted the blaster in her blurring vision. “Have it your way.”
As the darkness took her, she heard a piercing, shrill whistle and the sound of a window shattering. And then she heard, saw, and felt no more.
Uh oh. Those boys got me all tingly...
![[Image: ezgif-1-a370e630e1.gif]](https://s7.postimg.cc/elmiaogd7/ezgif-1-a370e630e1.gif)
I must calm it.
I must calm it.