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Ginger is about to find out that not all angels are good...maybe this ones even evil...
A DARK SHORT STORY


Submitted:May 15, 2009    Reads: 118    Comments: 6    Likes: 1   


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 night.

"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 gagged.

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 life.

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 corner.

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 farther.

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 lip.

The liquid tasted sweet, yet rusty in her mouth.

A few more hungry men joined in beating her with hard fists; a few jabbing her lightly with their knifes.

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 delicacy.

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 said.
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 blood.

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 devil ness.

"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 blood.

He wasn't and ordinary angel, he was a dark angel.

This has been a Dark short story, check out more in the collection…that is…if you dare…





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