mk robinson. (getemtiger) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-05-27 22:24:00 |
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What the hell was with the snow? MK, never a winter person to begin with, was astounded and quite miserable with the return of the cold weather; she wanted nothing more at the moment than to strangle whichever person -- Creation or otherwise -- that caused the weather to change so drastically. Back in Musings, the end of May meant opened fire hydrants on the street corners, Mr. Softee's ice cream trucks blaring their obnoxious tunes down the street, and trips to Rockaway Beach. It was the time when Queens really came alive. In Musings, apparently, it was a different story, and she didn't like it one bit. Thursday night, the second night of the storm, she had to work at the restaurant late (even if no one was really braving the storm to eat out). When 11 PM came, MK bolted out, ready to be home and warm as quickly as humanly possible. If only that freakish new ability she had was super speed, right? Since she did not possess super speed though, she trudged through the slushy streets until she was just a few blocks away from Hamartia. She reached an alley, one that cut through the street and would save her the headache of walking through two unnecessary blocks. It was late, of course, and MK would normally avoid doing something so stupidly dangerous on any other night. But, she was cold and wanted nothing more than to curl in her bed with a hot drink. The only thing standing in her way was that alley and a few more blocks. So, she mumbled, "Fuck it." before beginning to trek through the piles of snow down the dark passway. She hadn't realized anyone was following her until they spoke. The first catcall caused her to jump slightly, but she pushed on, rolling her eyes and suppressing a laugh. MK was almost always on (flirting, friendly, etc.) but tonight was not the night, especially with shady individuals in equally shady alleys. She kept on until one reached her and grabbed her arm to turn her around. It was only then, when he forcibly turned her around, that she found out it was more than one man. The man holding her arm sneered and spat out, "I was calling you." He looked her up and down before licking and smacking his lips. "Oh, were you? I didn't hear. Like what you see?" She winked, overcompensating for how fucking frightened she was at the moment. There were always rumors that Rainier wasn't the safest area, but this was one of her first real brushes with it. "Why don't you just let me go and we'll call this a draw." He simply shook his head and looked at her in a way that made her very uncomfortable. Before she could react, he had pushed her against the wall the closest building and pressed his body completely against hers. She attempted to kick him off her, but his friends soon flocked in and began hitting her all over -- punching her arms, slapping her face, kicking her own legs. She whimpered in pain just as the man holding her placed the hand not holding her arm over her mouth to stifle any more sound from her. She thrashed against him again, but to no avail. In fact, he had let go of her arm but pressed his body harder against hers harder while rifling in his pocket for something. His friends -- it seemed there were about five or six -- looked on hungrily. "Let's not make this harder than it should be, baby." The man finally reached what he was searching for -- a sharp switchblade. The silver glinted against the white snow before he placed it on her neck. Though it barely touched her skin, she was acutely aware of how once slip of the knife could kill her. She swallowed hard and though she still tried to scream, she ceased her thrashing. Instead, she stood there limply as he began to move in, hoping and praying someone might walk by to stop it. (Yeah, right.) |