Throbbing, writhing, bodies, pressed against one another as they moved to a deafening beat just few of them heard. Each yearned to feel something as they desperately pushed against one another in their rhythmic dance. Lust masked a desire for love, narcotic bliss hid a fear of oblivion, and frantic living concealed a terror of aging. Exposed flesh covered feelings of ugliness. Cosmetics and tattoos camouflaged suffering. Each of them tried to take pride in being an outsider, calling themselves individuals, yet they took solace in the pack they retreated into. They yearned for the safety of the warm bodies surrounding them, even while the horror around them reflected what his within.
One was different. Even amongst the lost souls, she stood alone. Her movements screamed of a pain that mocked the common despair of those surrounding her. The dancing, an orgy of lustful longing in those other sheep, was for her a symphony of sadness. The others were clowns, playing at darkness, thinking themselves children of the night; this girl truly knew despair.
Something had hurt her, and hurt her even now. She was trying to lose herself in the dance, letting her hands play along her flesh and hoping the music could force away her hopeless thoughts. Tears filler her azure eyes again and again, sending black lines falling down her pale cheeks. The golden halo shining around her head caught the insipid lights of this den of sin and sent them reaching out as she twisted her head, trying to force away what constantly threatened to overwhelm her. One male after another was drawn to her sensuous hips and their constant movement, but she rebuffed them all. It was love that this girl had lost, but not a lover.
One male, thinking himself an alpha, went too far. He fancied himself a predator, this one. He had waited off to the side as the herd had pressed together, calmly looking them all over. With hungry eyes, he had looked for one he thought to be the weakest, the most vulnerable. He could not help but be drawn to her. He moved up to her with a calm hunger, practice giving him confidence. He moved with the music, pushing his hips against hers. At first she allowed it, letting the false warmth his body could provide offer some illusion of what she had lost, but that lie quickly faded, as did her tolerance. This would-be predator was not to be dissuaded though. When she made to move away, he pulled her back and would not allow her to leave. He thought himself seductive, but her irritation overrode any chance of attraction. The possibility of failure changed his lust to rage.
He let his hand drift from her hip downward, between her legs, and she responded. A spin and a slash of the hand was the gentlest touch this predator would receive. Without another look, she turned and began pushing through the throng of writhing flesh, now desperate to be free of their stench. She did not see her would-be suitor reach out, ready to punish this prey who dared to deny his power. She did not she see him get pulled back, into the mass of desperate dancers. His scream was lost amidst the pounding music. His blood was washed away by the strobing lights.
—
She ran into the night. The dark streets were not welcoming, looming over her with sinister indifference. The gothic alleys, despite their familiarity, were cold. The warmth of the desperate souls behind her faded to nothing as she hurled herself along the slick sidewalks. The stinging rain slapped against her face, a harsh accompaniment to her tears. The city, this decaying jumbled of concrete bones and asphalt veins, mocked her grief, so lost it was within its own death throes. No matter how hard she ran, the girl could not outpace the ache tearing at her gentle heart.
At some point, she did not know when, she had arrived. Eventually, she was aware of the cold, wet grass, soaking through the knees of her torn stockings. The weight of her grief pressed down at her shoulders as she continued to sob. She did not notice the cold wind drifting amongst the small monuments, nor did she care. Her blonde halo, soaked and dangling in strands around her crumpled shoulders, did what it could to shield her eyes from the unflinching, remorseless granite before her.
She raised a trembling hand to the headstone before her and, without looking, laid a soft touch on the name. She could not bear to read anything more than a single word, below her hand.
Brother.
A stab of renewed pain tore at her heart, forcing her even lower to the ground. She stayed there for a long time, begging for Time to reverse. She begged for Fate to relent. She begged for Death to release her… if not return him.
Several voices filled with hate and contempt came from behind her. “Aww… are you sad?” one of them said.
“Looks like she’s just lonely,” another pointed out.
Heavy footsteps betrayed their approach behind her. She did not care. Her prayer to uncaring Death had been answered.
“Whaddaya say girlie?” a rank voice, thick with lust and alcohol demanded. “You lonely?”
She did not respond. She did not even both to look up. Let them do whatever they wanted.
A boot nudged at her. “I’m talkin’ to ya girlie,” the pig grunted. “We can be nice. But if ya keep givin’ us attitude…”
A rough hand snatched at her hair and yanked it back. A squeak of pain escaped her lips. She opened her eyes and saw five of them, all dressed as evil would be. She tried to be relived, to welcome Death’s release, but she feared what was to come first.
The one that held her hair pulled a knife out of his pocket and licked his lips. “I guess we don’t have to be nice,” he leered.
A yowl of pain drew everyone’s attention. The pack of predators was under attack. Faster than the eye could follow, something moved among them. Arms were bent back, knees dislocated, eyes gouged and ribs broken. Pain was inflicted, blood was spilled, and screams were brought forth in a blur of violence. The pig that had dared to profane her halo released his grip and jumped forward, irresistibly pulled into the swirl of violence. He screamed and swung his weapon at the darkness attacking him. He was lifted, gave a wet gargle, and was still. As quickly as the attack had begun, it was over. The girl gasped and started to fall to her knees.
He caught her. He would always catch her. He was always there to save her. She could never fall when he was near. She could never be hurt when he was near. She stared up into his face, so identical to her own, and for the first time in weeks, she felt safe. The world spun and she let the darkness claim her, knowing he would be there to catch her.
