Remmington's Dead

Darkness cloaked the desperate struggle. A hand tightened painfully on small wrists, grinding the bones in a cruel attempt to produce dust. Fingers ripped at thin clothing, pinching and bruising the scarred flesh below. A tongue and teeth trailed over the fighting body leaving ugly red welts in their wake. Small, frightened noises escaped from swollen and bleeding lips.

“P-please… n-no!” The voice came out strangled, cracked and terrified, revealing more years then it had seen. A deep, callous chuckle rolled through the darkness mocking the weak attempts at escape.

“Moan for me bitch,” the disdainful voice demanded. A knee shoved hard in between the last defenses, spreading a path to the final destination of pain and blood. A shrill voice screamed as the attacker took aim and plunged in…

The scream carried over into the waking world, snapping the dreamer into a sitting position. For a heartbeat that stretched into eternity she stared at her mirrored reflection through a curtain of crimson hair, disoriented and scared. Slowly, her frozen blood warmed and began to pump through her veins once again. Her chest rose and fell as her shallow breathing came back to disturb the peaceful air around her. Alert, fearful eyes shifted suspiciously about, taking in the calm world around her and affirming that she was truly alone in the room.

With a sigh that was half irritated growl and half relief, the young woman swept her hair from her face and untangled her legs from the cheap sheets of her bed. She reached beside her and flipped on the bedside lamp, throwing weak light over a small portion of the hotel room. Thankful for the carpeting, she set her feet on the warm floor and padded over to the bag on the floor. Retrieving a notebook and pen she settled in the chair by the window and dated a blank page.

He was there again tonight. Even in my sleep the bastard pursues me. Will I never be rid of him? The nightmares are getting worse, getting more real. I can’t tell the difference between memory and fear any more. I’m afraid every minute of every day. Afraid that one day I’ll turn around and he’ll be there ready to drag me back to Ireland. Ready to…

I’m almost out of money. This will be the last time I can sleep in a real bed, no matter how shitty the mattress is. Goddess knows when I’ll next eat. What am I going to do? I can’t get a job without some sort of paperwork. This country confuses and scares me a little too. I don’t have anyone to turn to. Of course, I didn’t have anyone then either… I’ll find a way to survive. I have to. I can’t let that bastard beat me. I can’t give up… though, in all honesty, I don’t know why I’m still trying. What’s the point?

With a weary sigh she quietly closed the journal. Settling further into the chair, the woman turned her attention outside and passed the night by humming quietly to herself. Sadness and fear tinged every clear note.

~*~

“Kyou!” a deep voice shouted from the door way. A dark haired man burrowed deeper into the protection of a mound of blankets.

“Five more minutes,” came a reply, muffled by the numerous comforters.

“You said that twenty minutes ago!” The older man stormed into the room and began ripping the blankets off his best friend. “Get up! NOW!” The one named Kyou smiled sleepily as the other dug him from his sanctuary. For as long as they had known each other they had played this game. Well, ever since Kyou had moved in with him anyways. The last blanket was ripped off, pulling the young man from his thoughts.

“Alright, alright,” Kyou yawned, sitting up and stretching, “I’m up.”

“Good, and don’t you dare go back to sleep either.” The normally playful threat seemed a bit more dangerous this morning.

“Don’t pop a vein old man,” Kyou chuckled wondering what had him so riled up. The other growled as Kyou lazily rubbed at his eyes.

“PAUL!” a voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs, “is he up yet?”

“What’s Dimitrie doing here?” Kyou asked curiously, dark eyebrows knitting his face together in a frown.

“He’s got a job for you,” Paul growled storming back out of the room, “he’s got a lead.” And that would be why Paul was on edge today. Kyou jumped to his feet, and grabbed his jeans. Pulling them on he shot out of the room and down the stairs into the quaint pub that Paul owned and ran. A tall man with dark brown hair tinted with grey here and there sat at the bar sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

“What’s going on?” The Chief of Police raised his head at the demand, looking up at Kyou with soft brown eyes.

“The Mayor’s going to speak at the festival today,” he explained carefully as if Kyou wouldn’t be able to handle this bit of information.

“Yeah, so what? I thought we decided—”

“The brother’s are going to be there,” Dimitrie cut in.

~*~

Kyou shoved his through the thronging masses, a scowl twisting his normally handsome face with anger.

“I’ll kill him,” he muttered pushing past a mother and her screaming brats, “neither one of the assholes showed up. A complete waste of my time.” Growling, he continued to press forward to the edge of the crowd. He stopped in his tracks, his storm colored eyes irriestably drawn to a girl perched gracefully on a road blockade. A blood red pony tail brushed small shoulders. Slender arms and legs balanced her fragile body on the weather-worn wood. A flawless neck turned her head slightly as she watched the crowd swarm around her, her delicate jaw tensely set.

Mesmerized by her, Kyou took a few hesitant steps forward, his breath caught in his throat. There was a strong sense of sadness that hung on her like a chained cloak, making her more alluring to the young man. Her shoulders jutted up too sharply. The green velvet of her buttoned up shirt hung off her like a rag covering sticks. Jeans drooped around her bony hips, held up by an old leather belt. Tension, fear and curiosity rested in every joint, every angle of her skeletal frame and glowed like death beneath her ashen skin.

Kyou’s heart pounded painfully in his rib cage. There was something sad and lonely, something bitter sweet in her that was calling for his protection. The young man didn’t believe in love at first sight. He had laughed at it actually. How could two complete strangers fall desperately in love with one another without knowing a damn thing about each other? But there was no denying his attraction to her. Whether or not what he felt was love didn’t seem to matter to him. All that mattered to him now was some how making this moment last forever.

Sensing someone attempting to stare holes in her, she turned, searching the crowd until her eyes locked with his. The world around them stopped. Kyou’s heart pounded loudly in his ears. Her eyes were vibrant green, or would’ve been. A world of darkness, tears and pain had dulled them to a pale, watery jade. Those eyes had seen too much. They knew too much and for a brief moment he saw it all. The cry for help. The prayer for death. He saw it all in the fleeting second before panic slammed shutters down and her eyes narrowed in thinly veiled fear.

With speed born of instinct she took off into the crowd. Kyou followed, not knowing what he would say if he caught her. Shoving through the moving bodies, he lost track of her until a blur of red and green drew his attention toward a dark alleyway. In an instant he was on her heels again.

“Wait!” he called out breathlessly stumbling through the darkened passages. She was fast. Graceful and agile as a cat she sprinted down the back streets, but she couldn’t shake him. He had spent too many years running alongside the cops he called family. Quick as a flash of light the pair twisted and turned down the alleyways; both running out of breath and both skidding to a halt as they came upon a dead end.

For a moment the red head starred at the wall in disbelief, chest heaving painfully as her lungs fought to fill with oxygen.

“Damn girl,” Kyou panted, bending over trying to gulp in air, “you move fast.” She turned to glare at him before slamming her foot into the side of his head. White hot stars exploded, blocking out his vision as he dropped to the ground cradling his head in pain. The sound of rapidly retreating footsteps told him that she had taken off again and this time he wouldn’t be able to catch her. Confused he slowly pulled himself to his feet and headed back out thankful for his knowledge of the city. It was almost impossible for him to get lost.

~*~

A million and one thoughts, questions, and worries raced across her mind as she continued to sprint blindly down the dark passage ways.

“Who was he? What did he want? Why did he chase me? Why was he starring?”