The pain was evaporating. The torment she had endured the past two hours had reached the peak of tolerance. The four men that had held her down only to take turns savagely penetrating her had unloaded their passion full force and then left her to drown in their juices. She was now alone to assimilate the events that took place.
Her name is inconsequential. None of the men raping her were calling her by her proper name anyway. They couldn’t make up their mind whether her name should’ve been “Whore” or “Slut” or “Cock Sucking Cunt”. She wasn’t from this town because her intention was to make some quick cash, catch the next bus out of this lonely berg she found herself in, and head in the direction her shining star was to take her, even though her shining star was beginning to be more of a challenge to locate lately. She was, however, the bigger part of the American scenery than anyone wants to admit. She was a bonafide runaway. She had all the qualifications; she had used four fake names on her current travel, she had changed her hair color twice, and she did whatever it took to make some quick cash to keep moving to the next town. Her intention was not to form any sort of root-system in any one place.
She had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday, although not in the style she had intended. The guys had been friendly to her at first. She had known in her bones that the night’s festivities were going to start with liquor and some weed. She had no way of knowing her party in the back alley of a desolate downtown area would end in tragedy. She had abandoned love. It’s the one emotion that got her into this predicament in the first place. Her boyfriend since freshman year had cheated on her. Not that anyone had to tell her. There were no rumors to be floated around. There had been a pep rally scheduled for her high school football team before their big game. She had decided she didn’t need to go to the assembly. She wasn’t exactly sports-minded, and she didn’t feel all that “peppy” about anyone – or anything – in regard to her school. So she had decided to walk the two miles home instead of catching the late afternoon bus.
The day was pretty. Well, her definition of pretty, at any rate. It was overcast. Rain wasn’t in the forecast, yet the clouds were looming above just in case Mother Nature decided to dump a few drops here and there. The air was brisk, but not freezing. The last few days were flirting with sub-freezing temperatures, but there were no promises of a freeze today. In fact, it was downright pleasant for a change. There were patches of snow left over from the day before on the sidewalk she had decided to take. It wasn’t the long way home, but it wasn’t the fastest route either.
She had tried to text her boyfriend a few times asking his whereabouts. She wanted to meet up with him instead of going to the pep rally. He didn’t answer her texts. His phone was either dead or he was ignoring her. She was leaning toward his phone dying, but only because in the past few months he had been extremely nice to her. He would drop by her house so often that her mother had gotten used to the boy being around. It was sort of odd that her mother liked any boy she brought home. Her mother didn’t like any of her friends or any of her choices, so it would just be the solution to the common sense equation that her mother wouldn’t like any of her choices in friends. But it seemed that her mother didn’t mind her boyfriend being around which was a nice change of pace from the usual drama she would have to encounter with any other boy she had brought home before.
The story she had always been told was that she was forced to live with her mother at the age of ten when her father had died in an accidental drowning. She had no other family member to take her in. Her mother wasn’t pleased with the sudden rooming situation, but neither was she. She had never met the maternal side of her genetics but she knew immediately she didn’t like her mother. She thought for a second to figure out if that was true, and after giving it a moment’s thought she had concluded that –no- she didn’t like her mother. They weren’t even friends. Her mother was just the egg donor and she was the little chick that hatched. End of story. The connection between the egg and the offspring disconnected the moment she was sliding through the birth canal. A decade later she found herself back into her mother’s daily life of alcohol and men. As long as her mother kept those ingredients away from her room, she was fine with it all. Her mother’s decisions had no bearing on her life and so she figured that her decisions would have no bearing on her mother. She had heard it told that all is fair in love and war. She couldn’t compare the two to concur whether that was true or not since all she’s ever known in her young life was war.
She turned onto the unkempt sidewalk that served as runway to her mother’s front door. Patches of weeds and cigarette butts littered the entire area serving as placard in case one needed a landmark to her home. “Just look for the landfill of cigarette butts and weeds,” would not be very far from the truth, although a bit of an exaggeration. The front walkway wasn’t exactly a landfill. The yard was more “peppered” with the butts albeit heavily. She stepped up the seven steps to reach her front porch. The two old rocking chairs were sitting idly by the front window like they’ve been doing through winter storms and summer heats. The faded brass doorknob stuck a little when she turned it to gain entry into her home. Her goal was to quietly enter the house, scoot up the stairs, and find safe-haven in her room for the rest of the night away from the goat that answered to “Mom”.
But the noises in the kitchen caught her attention mainly because they weren’t exactly kitchen noises. This wasn’t pans banging together, or dishes being washed in the porcelain sink. This was hushes and whispers, pants and moans. Curiosity normally doesn’t get the best of her, but this time it did as she allowed the noises to lure her toward the kitchen through the dining room. She took a second to turn her phone on vibrate in the event her boyfriend – the one good thing to happen to her in this life – would text or call her. She wanted to remain invisible for this encounter; not only visually, but audibly as well. She skirted the dining room wall with its peeling wallpaper of gray fleurs-de-lis at one inch intervals both horizontally and vertically. She turned the corner of the dining room archway to peer one eye into the kitchen. She quickly recognized the source of the noises.
She would recognize that ass anywhere; even if it WAS pounding in and out like a steam locomotive in open country. Her boyfriend – the one who wasn’t answering her texts – was busy fucking her mother on the kitchen counter. The grunts and groans were a chorus of them both reaching their dirty climax.
She didn’t say a word. She just shook her head. This sort of thing was expected, so it didn’t surprise her very much. Her mother wasn’t young, but she acted young and that seemed to be an aphrodisiac to the boys. She backed out of the dining room slowly, and then raced through the living room to get to the front door. Her first thought was to sneak out so her boyfriend and his slut wouldn’t even know she had been there. Then she whispered, “fuck that!” and slammed the door closed on her way out. She had hoped that the sudden burst interrupted the rush of waves that was about to get all sticky on the counter.
She walked the same sidewalk she travelled when coming home to escape the nightmare she had found once she arrived there, except now she was bound in the opposite direction. She was heading toward the highway overpass that acted as gateway to the downtown area. The late afternoon drizzle was lifting and the clouds were parting in anticipation for her arrival. Or so it seemed. The yellow orb in the sky that had been hiding high above the ominous clouds was lowering below the buildings downtown to make way for the moon and the stars to have their turn. A change of scenery was exactly what she needed. She desperately needed to be far away from the only two people in her life that could either make her or break her. It was apparent they were doing their damndest at the breaking part.
The downtown area was full of nightlife, but not too much nightlife that she would be bumping into people. Not that she would feel it anyway. She was numb. Someone could’ve walked past her and stabbed her indiscriminately and she wouldn’t have noticed it until the blood had drained out of her causing her to collapse. Then, maybe, she would’ve cared a little bit about the end of her life as it unfolded. Right now, though, she wasn’t concerned one iota. The bars and pubs that populate the commerce district were buzzing with humanity striving to wash away the week’s memories with libations. The Devil’s business could be found in cars and in the back alleys. All one had to do was to look for it, smell the air for it, or walk right into it like she did.
She saw the two men in front of her a few yards away. They were blocking her path behind the restaurant pitching their rating as the “Number One Spot On Earth For Authentic Italian Food”.
“Hey, sexy, where you heading?” the first guy, with dark shoulder-length hair and a beard that looked like pubic hair, asked her with one hand holding a smoldering cigarette while the other one was massaging his bulge in the front of his faded black jeans.
“Right past you,” was her answer.
“Not before we take a dip in your pool,” said the second guy, who was substantially shorter and of some Hispanic decent.
She stopped for a split second to give the Hispanic guy a look of discontent. Who even says things like that anymore? Did this guy find words like that to be romantic to a woman? She answered his vulgarity in kind, “This isn’t a public pool.”
“It is tonight,” he replied as he backed her up against the wall. He didn’t bother with the foreplay or kissing. He went directly for the deep end by lifting up her shirt to unbutton her jeans. Before he could get the zipper to the fourth set of teeth he felt her knee as it crashed into his balls.
“You shouldn’t have done that, whore,” said pubic-hair-face as he flicked his cigarette into the alley. The cherry red head sparkled and sputtered in the dark like a flare before it extinguished in the dirty puddle on the coarse pavement with a sizzle. Now that his hands were empty, the first guy unzipped his pants to set free what he had been massaging previously. She took a look at his cock and could see why he was massaging it. The thing was massive and brick hard. His member was casting a shadow on the alley pavement even in the dismal light. The Hispanic guy was mesmerized by the first guy’s size as he, himself, was coddling his package on the wet pavement in a fetal position after the assault he had just experienced from the dirty whore’s kneecap.
“You can yell all you want; no one pays attention in these parts. They’re used to the screams in the alleys,” the first guy advised as he moved closer to his soon-to-be sexual prey.
“I don’t scream.” She said.
“It’s more exciting if you scream. For me, anyway.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You’ll be screaming by the time I get done with you, bitch.”
“I doubt it, but you can try.” As the last word escaped her lips a single tear visibly rolled down her left cheek. The tear didn’t go unnoticed by those who were about to molest her.
“You can talk shit, but you got fear somewhere in that slut body of yours. That’s good. It makes the fuck that you’re going to get that more exciting.” He said as he placed his hand on the wall on one side of her head. His other hand was continuing to stroke his manhood. “You’ll be crying real hard when I’m done. But not for the reason you think. You’ll be crying and begging me for more. That’s a guarantee.” He whispered this in her ear, pressing his right cheek against her left cheek trapping her single tear between both of their skin.
She whispered back, “I won’t be the one begging.”
This infuriated him as he stuck the tip of his throbbing cock through the lips of her vagina. He let it sit there for a split second, all the while thinking how warm women were when wrapped around the head of his dick. This vagina wasn’t warm, it was cold. In fact – it was ice cold. He almost lost his hard-on when he was thinking how cold this bitch’s pussy was. No matter, pussy is pussy he thought before he slammed the full length of his cock into her as her head bent back against the wall. She didn’t moan, she didn’t yell for help. Instead – she was crying harder now. Her face, however, wasn’t sad. He found it odd that she was actually smiling while she was crying. As if this was some sort of relief for her.
That’s when the rain began. It was light at first; a simple sprinkle. The droplets falling from the sky landed to blend with the concrete that was already wet from the previous storms. The second guy had recovered from her assault and was now standing up. He was preparing himself for his turn at the mouthy whore when his friend was done with her. At the moment, though, he was acting as cheerleader for his friend. A “Hell yeah!” and a “Fuck her good,” could be heard, but faintly over the huffs and puffs of sexual gratification coming from the first guy who was trying desperately to release his load into the cold bitch against the wall.
She, however, had tuned out all the crude comments and blocked out the violent act being played out against her will. She was instead thinking of her boyfriend’s ass pumping in, and then thrusting out of her own mother. Her mother’s bare feet were dangling loose in the air above her boyfriend’s shoulders as he pumped, and pumped, and pumped. She cried harder. How could she not have seen that coming? The signs were all there. She was too dumb, and too much in love with the loser to even pay attention to the silent sirens that should’ve been screaming in her head.
The guy currently fucking her was happy. He felt her tears dropping on his neck and right shoulder. He had made her cry, and this pleased him. He liked it when these dirty bitches cried when he fucked them. It was more exciting to him when they didn’t want it, when he knew they secretly craved his huge cock. His balls banged against her smooth thighs with every thrust. God, those thighs were smooth. It felt like someone was licking his balls while he was pumping the Holy Land. And she was bawling her eyes out. This was the trifecta of fucking. It might have taken a few minutes to get all three into place, but when it all was in sync it wouldn’t be long before he came.
The rain was beginning to fall harder, and faster. Drops of rain were hitting her face; landing on her eyelids, and merging with the tears rolling down her face. She opened her mouth to drink in the rain water while her head was bounce, bounce, bouncing against the wall in rhythm to the violation against her.
The people in the streets just a few feet from their dark encounter had already dissipated in advance of the imminent storm. All she could hear was the yelling and the hollering of the second guy waiting his turn at the stray girl. She focused on rain dropping as gifts to her from the heavens. Drops splattered here and there in her line of vision enough to create diamond colored kaleidoscopes on the edge of her long eyelashes before they dropped onto the neck of her attacker. She didn’t care. She wasn’t exactly feeling anything. She was numb from the brain down. Most girls her age wanted pretty things, the latest gadget available to the proverbial sheep at behemoth prices until the next latest gadget has been brought before the herd, and clothes. Boy, did those girls want clothing. All she wanted was to die.
She also wanted the rain to pelt down on her harder.
Guy number one was done grunting into her. She just leaned against the wall with her head tilted toward the sky as if she were silently calling for help. The rain was beginning to drop in vast amounts before the second guy took his place in front of her. His cock was substantially less than what the first guy had. She wasn’t sure if this pleased her or irritated her. She was yelling, “STOP!” in his direction, but it was done mentally, not physically. So no one actually heard her command. The demands to cease and desist were absorbed into the farthest recesses of her detached thought process. But the rain paid attention. It pummeled harder over the gritty back alley. The raindrops weren’t just dropping, they were dancing. She began smiling at the thought of fortune heading in her direction for a change.
“Crazy bitch,” said the second guy while he worked his cock into a frenzy. The rain had interrupted his flow, and was trying desperately to gain composure, “Is she on crack or something?” he asked to no one in particular.
The skies opened. What was just a sprinkle here and there was now a bona fide rain storm. She was content to stand in the rain and wash away everything that was currently ailing her. She rubbed off the feeling of being used, she could wash the nasty taste of her entire history from her mouth by just letting her tongue sit out in the weather for a little bit. She could even wash away the foul sent of these two clowns who don’t know how to treat a lady…
Her ideal-world-building was interrupted by the first guy screaming from the top of his lungs. Even if he didn’t have to yell over the rain coming down hard enough to cause an earthquake and split concrete, she still couldn’t hear what he was screaming. But the second guy heard him, and he looked spooked. She looked at the first guy screaming and running around with his hands clawing at his head, then to the second guy with his pecker still hanging out, but not really wanting to be out right now, and then back to the first guy who had red rain pooling down his ears and shoulders.
Where did the red rain come from?
Then the second guy started screaming and doing the same dance with his hands in the air as the first guy. It wasn’t too long before they had both had a helmet of red oozing from the top of their heads, down their necks, and across their chest. The rain was beating the red – was that blood? – as fast as it could to wash away the crimson-red gift being presented.
She watched as the first guy’s head melted on top of his shoulders, and then he exploded like a water balloon that had its fill of water and then some. His blood squirted in every direction, even in directions she wouldn’t have thought blood could transport – such as in a curl. She slowly lifted her eyes off of the pile that was the first guy, and then turned to impose her gaze upon the second guy. He and she met each other with the same gaze at the same time before his head exploded followed by the rest of his scrawny body. He was a smaller guy than the first one, but his person had more explosions. Three of them in all. Some of his blood splattered across her face before being meticulously washed clean by the rain. She stood against the wall with her shorts top around her thighs. She looked at the two piles of red mass and watched as the rain bounced and jumped on top of them to conspicuously conceal that these two had ever been here. She laughed a little as she pulled her wet shorts up. What would she possibly look like if someone passed by and saw her standing half naked against the wall in an alley? She would be labeled the “desperate one”; she did not contest.
But she couldn’t move. She had all intentions of pulling up her shorts, walking away from the fiasco, and possibly getting some ice cream at Twisty Treats before she headed home to try the same rain trick with her Mother and boyfriend. But she couldn’t even move her arm. She could look down, though. And when she did she saw the tang of the knife jutting out from her ribcage. The blood was streaming down her left hip where it was dripping onto the alley rocks. She didn’t feel it when the first guy decided to shank her because she had removed herself from the scene. She just wanted to watch the rain.
“The rain is what saved you,”
It was a deep, rumbling voice. She could almost make out that it was a man, but then she had met some manly women in her time. It could’ve been a woman. She looked to her left, and then to her right, all the while noticing that the rain had tempered a bit. Just enough pressure from Mother Nature to keep the rain going until the exploding bodies were non-existent.
“How do you figure that?” she asked, even though it came out as a whisper.
“I would think that the power you possess is a little more evident today,” he said, jumping off the top of one of the many dumpsters housed in the alley.
“Were you sitting in the dumpster the entire time I was being raped? Or did you come in during the second act?”
“I was here the entire time. There was never any danger for you.”
“I have a knife sticking out of my ribs. We’re beyond the danger part.”
“Where we’re going, you’re going to survive a knife wound.”
“I’m pretty sure this is more than a wound. I can’t feel the entire left side of my body.”
“Then you’re not in pain.”
“Well, no, now that you mention it, there is certainly no pain.”
“Good. Then I’m going to ask you to come with me.”
“I’m not exactly sure I can move anywhere. And if we’re going in your car, I’m afraid I’m going to get it a little bloody. You might want to snag a trash bag out of one of those dumpsters over there.”
“A bag of any sort will not be required,” he said as he let his massive wings stretch from the cloak of his outer coat. They were golden and beautiful; almost as beautiful as the rain that had washed down upon her this evening.
“Wow! That’s some parlor trick,” she said. She tried to sound sarcastic, but it came out of her sounding like she was a fan girl, “And where did the rain go? It was finally starting to feel good in this alley.”
“Do you understand what has happened here?”
“My boyfriend is cheating on me with my mother, I went for a walk, two guys were raging, sexist pigs, they exploded, and here I am. This could be a terrific reality show. I’d get tons of advertisers for this little gem.”
“The rain was your intrinsic desire. The ultimate hunger deep within you wanted acidic rain. That was what was provided. The drops were, in effect, your tears, Elyssa.”
“So the rain was acid. And it made everyone explode, and melt, and squirt all over the place except for me?”
“You were always the exception.”
“I’m sorry…who are you again?”
“You can call me Nicandro.”
With that little introduction, she gave in to her pain. She had passed out still standing against the wall with her legs in a braced position. Nicandro walked up to her, scooped her up, and took off for the clearing night sky.