Heather Harper

She stumbled on the pavement as she tried to escape from her attacker. The night at the bar had not gone well at all, and now her ex was after her. She managed to get a good distance away but quickly realized she was cornered.

“God damn it,” she hissed as blood oozed from her scuffed knees as she looked at the trucks that blocked the exit, “shipping will be the death of me.”

She looked around for someplace to hide as his footsteps bounced off the brick.

“Come here sweetie pie, I only want to talk,” he slurred in his drunken state. He was getting closer now.

She looked around when suddenly she was stricken with a ghastly view. There on the bricks was a man hanging, bars through his hands and feet. The letter “A” bloody on his forehead. On the pavement below were the etched words “forgive me father; for I have sinned”.  She held back tears and a sick gurgling begging to come up. She suddenly saw the attacker only thirty feet from her.

“I don’t have a choice please save me,” she cried, tears running down her face.

She ran up to the dead body on the brick walls and quickly touched him in the chest. Suddenly she felt faint as her life force drained from her body. She felt the pain of bars in her hands and feet and her neck stung with a vengeance. She cried out in pain as it coursed through her body unbearably so. Suddenly the man’s eyes opened wide in terror. He snapped his fingers and flames melted the bars. He fell to the ground, thinker style. The holes in his hands melted together and he stood up; bloodlust in his eyes.

“I’m so fucking pissed,” he screamed as he looked for a way out.

“Hey man, that’s my girl over there don’t touch her she’s mine!” the attacker hiccupped now feet away from them.

He looked over to the girl and saw tears running down her face.

“Please save me,” she begged.

“Good, an outlet,” the bloody man smiled as he snapped his fingers repeatedly.

Every snap caused more flames to devour the man’s body, over and over again. His agonizing screams echoing off the bricks. Melting flesh and bone until nothing was left except a small pile of ash. He was not satisfied he needed to get away before her hurt her next. His venomous anger festering inside him. He struggled a cigarette from his coat shaking uncontrollably as he pulled in out covered in blood. Putting one to his lips he snapped softly lighting it and falling backwards onto the brick. Exhaling a cloud of grey smoke, as the nicotine worked its magic.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he frowned pulling it from his lips.

“Thank you,” she sputtered as she fell to the ground panting desperately.

“So what the hell happened?” he asked suddenly realizing what had happened.

“I’m Heather, I heal people I guess,” Heather said quietly, “I found you here crucified on the bricks. I needed your help.”

“Someone like me, that’s reassuring. My name is Caspian. I burn things,” Caspian snickered.

“How can we do these things?” Heather said looking down.

“I don’t know but what I need to know is how you found me, every little detail,” Caspian said forcefully.

“Oh,” she gasped frightfully, “you were here pinned to the bricks with bars through your hands and feet. Below you were the words forgive me father; for I have sinned. And your forehead.”

Caspian touched his forehead and felt something sticky, he pulled it away to see blood on his fingertips.

“It’s an A,” Heather squeaked.

“Someone murdered me?” Caspian cried out as he bit hard on his cigarette.

“Yes.”

“This is an outrage. Thank you for saving me but I’ve got some work to do. Get home lady, and stay there. Get a gun or something. Don’t be stupid. These streets are nothing but evil.”

Suddenly he was gone around the corner, huffing in anger mumbling to himself as Heather picked herself off the ground. Brushing away dirt and fighting back tears. He’s right. I should have something. I’m pathetic.

 

Heather rushed through the alleys looking every direction for someone else to make her feel venerable. She found the door to the bathroom. She wanted to clean up before she went back to the club next door to meet her friends. She stood for what seemed like ages looking at her bruised ego in the mirror. It was stupid what she did, thinking about what he’s done to her and then thinking he would change. Especially when he’s drunk. Never flirt with a drunk ex, ever. When she felt she was decent enough she slipped outside into the club. Desperately hoping she could find her friends and get out of here.

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