Warning: might contain graphic
violence, you have been warned
Ginger was swiftly walking down the
alleyway, trying desperately to make her feet go quicker, the
faster she went, the better it was for her. It was now sun set,
and the roads began to darken, as a layer of murk formed
through the city.
Ginger's curly bright scarlet hair flew
past her as her pace picked up speed.
Earlier that afternoon, she had been in the
library, studying for her SAT that was in less than a week.
Ginger was both anxious and exited to take the final test of her
high school career.
She had waited years for her final
moments of being a high school student. And now, she was on the
verge of getting what she wanted.
Well, almost on the verge.
If she hadn't been to the library on that
very day, in early June, she wouldn't have heard those mimicking
footsteps behind her. They taped gracefully, and with rhythm,
careful to stop when Ginger did.
Ginger focused her sea-foam green eyes to
an abandon street shop. The glass was cracked, and the door knob
was no where in sight. Nothing conspicuous, she did see.
Ginger let out a sigh of relief, moments
before her heart picked up rate.
She felt strong arms grab her waist and
chest, and pulling her closer, and into a darkened alley.
She tried to scream, but fear hung deep in
her throat, making her calls of plea as silent as the
"It's alright, girly. We're just gonna
have some fun with ya!" the murky voice soothed.
Ginger did notice that the mad had used a
plural, meaning not only them both.
Soon, when they both were in the darkness
of the alley, the man roughly pressed his lips to Ginger's. She
felt the stale taste of alcohol in his mouth, and she almost
The man gripped her closer, feeling the
slight curves of her body.
Ginger was convoluting in fear, her muscles
tightening at every touch of the strange man. She couldn't let
this happen to her. She had a future…a plan, a dream, a goal, a
She would not stand as this man put his
filthy hands on her; she was going to fight back.
The drunk was touching her rapidly; from
her hair, to her face, to her lips with his.
"Leave some for us!" shouted another from a
She too, noticed the plural.
Soon, a swarm of lust hungry men circled
her. Some holding knifes that gleamed in the dim light. There
were almost six, maybe seven, all packing in on her.
The man that was holding her threw her to
the wall, her back hitting the cracked brick. She fell lifelessly
to the still ground.
Her head was throbbing now, and she
couldn't bear to fight the men off. She was doomed. There
wasn't anything she could do now…
Another man with dirty brown hair, an
unshaven face, and lustful brown eyes bent down to her.He
slowly caressed his fingers on Ginger's awkwardly posed body.
His hand slowly reached to her stomach, eager to go
Ginger pulled what strength she could, and
pushed the man away with little force she had. The stranger was
taken aback, but soon regained his posture. He slapped his fist
angrily across Ginger's face, making blood trickle from her
The liquid tasted sweet, yet rusty in her
A few more hungry men joined in beating her
with hard fists; a few jabbing her lightly with their
Ginger lay on the cold alley pavement,
soaked in scarlet blood, seeping from her mouth, to her leg,
and to her crimson hair.
She lost all hope for survival. There was
no way that she could possibly live through this, it was the end
of Ginger McDowell.
She heard the voice of an angel then; so
calm, so sweet, so brave.
"Leave her." The voice spoke with
The men turned to the angel, looking up to
him. The angel had jet black hair, with piercing lavender eyes, a
creamy completion, and smooth tender lips. He was gorgeous,
needless to say.
"Wat do y…ya wa..nt…ya punk?" One drunk
stuttered, clearly shaken.
"Leave the girl to be." The angel spoke
again, now more demanding.
"Or…or what kid? Ya gonna beat…us?" another
The drunken men laughed in unison.
"No. I'm going to kill you."
He was moving swiftly now, swiping the
pocket knifes from all men at the same time, stabbing them all in
the heat or slicing their neck.
He moved with delicacy, quickly turning,
and retrieving from the drunken men's failing punches. Slowly,
one by one, dropped dead, in a puddle of their own scarlet
He came to Ginger, his face splattered in
blood, and his black locks drenched in a reddish liquid.
"Are you…okay?" he asked teasingly.
Ginger simply nodded, the only reply she
could manage to give.
The angel's face soon changed, starting
with a mischievous grin; then his eyes lit with an undetectable
"Now, you're all mine." He picked up
where the dead drunken men had left off, and he didn't bother
to spare her life when he was done.
He later sliced her
neck from ear to ear, letting the flood of blood trickle down her
pale, broken body. She never heard anyone else's voice but his
before she died, horrifically, choking on her own
He wasn't and ordinary angel, he was a
This has been a Dark short
story, check out more in the collection…that is…if you