A Writer's Tale Ch.2

A Writer's Tale
Annemarie Smith has traded London for South Bronx. As a professional writer, she needs to submit new work every now and then too maintain her income. Out of the blue she experiences the nightmare of any novellist; a writer's block. Too keep the inspiration and money flowing she takes a side-job at a certain bar. Then everything spiralls out of control after a brutal murder that seems to center around her more than she likes to.

Rated T for violence, language and possible minor adult situations. Rating may go up!

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Chapter 02: Lost

“What do you mean; I don’t get the job?”

“Exactly that, missy. You’re not fitting the profile we are looking for, that’s all.”

“But I have a perfect resume! I’ve worked at several pubs when I was younger or when I was in need of money, I understand the do’s and don’ts of mixing drinks. I can handle customers perfectly.. so I think your reason of not hiring me is invalid.”

“Look, miss, your resume is marvellous. It’s just-”

“It’s because I’m British, right?”

“N-no! Yes, but-”

“You know what good sir? Forget it. I don’t want to work here anymore.”

A furious Ann with cheeks almost as red as her hair stormed out of a pub called Flint’s Brews. The name sounded a bit Irish to her (giving her a false flicker of hope), but it appeared to be run by assholes. No.. they were worse than that. They just judged her because of the way she talked! It made her furious!

“Bloody racists,” she seethed when she pulled up the collar of her trench coat to shield herself against the onslaught of rain and numerous of squalls that almost made her lose her balance. Silently she cursed herself for not having an umbrella, but then again; in this weather it would be more of a nuisance than a relief.

Flint’s had been the last one on her list. Nobody was either hiring staff or she didn’t ‘fit their profile’ how they liked to call it. Now what? It was the only thing she was qualified to do, and working as a cashier in a store didn’t sound quite appealing to her. It would be her last resort.

Grunting and muttering curses underneath her breath she entered the Tennement Building, deftly evading a huge bald man who sported a long brown beard. He’d probably never even noticed her for she was certainly a head smaller than him and twice as thin. In that brief moment Ann identified him as her upper neighbour. Though she hadn’t introduced herself to him yet she had spotted him a few times now in the distance. Toad had identified him as Woody and one she ‘shouldn’t really involve herself with’. How odd.

Her hair that was now a vivid red, thus recently coloured, had escaped the everlasting bun because of the weather outside and now clung to her face like an octopus. With a huff she ran a hand through the long, dripping locks feeling some knots here and there. She was already looking forward at untangling the bird’s nest on top of her scalp.

After Ann pushed the shopping cart away from her door for a thousandth time (she had discovered it was a habit of someone, but she had yet to find the culprit) and fiddled with her keys a thought crossed her mind. She was just living here for almost a week and there was no way she could have googled every single pub around here. Her green eyes slid to the door on her left.

“Mr. Toad? Are you there?”

Her voice echoed in the empty hallway as she called out for her neighbour. Her knuckles scraped the hard wooden door a few times, but no one answered.

“Mr. Toad?”

She knocked a few more times, but there was still no answer. She paused, straining her ears to listen for any sign of movement. Ah, there it was. Shuffling.

“Mr. Toad, I know you are in there! I just need your help with something.. nothing major though. Please?” She called out again. ‘At least not major for you..’

After a minute of silence that small flicker of hope that had grown inside of Ann slowly vanished. He apparently wasn’t home or didn’t want to talk to her. Too bad. Just when she wanted to turn away, she heard some clear shuffling and scraping throat from the other side of the door.

“What is it?” The annoyed voice of Mr. Toad grumbled. “I’m busy!”

Ann was mildly surprised at the snappiness of her neighbour. She decided to let the matter be and leaned with her forehead on the door, hoping that he would hear her. “I was just..” When did her voice sound so small?

“I was just wondering if you could help me? Do you know a bar who wants to hire someone or has connections or something?”

There was a pause from the other side of the door. Finally he spoke once more, but his voice seemed to originate much lower to the ground than Ann had first thought. Was he injured or something? She decided not to press it and let the matter be. If he needed help he would surely call her right?

“You can try at The Trip Trap Bar. It’s located not far from here in The Bronx, at least a 15 minute walk from here. If you exit the building go to your left, then the second right, immediate left and then the second left. If you think you’re wrong, you’re right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Toad. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call me okay?”

There was some guttural agreement coming from the door, followed by a soft “Be careful” that her ears almost didn’t pick up for she had already turned on her heels and walked to the front door. Ann took a deep breath and exited the building expecting to be at the mercy of the weather gods, but it never happened.

The rain had stopped and the wind had dwindled just a bit, but still played with her fiery hair as her heels clicked on the pavement in hurried steps. She was cold, still a bit wet due to the rain earlier and she was tired. Her biological clock told her it must be around midnight, but there were still so many people on the streets!

‘Second right.. immediate left and then.. left or right?’

Ann stood on the corner of a street and stroked some hair out of her face. People brushed past her, each and every single one with a destination of its own. All with a purpose, like ants. She looked to her left, then to her right and a feeling of lost settled itself in her gut.

She sucked in a breath and decided. She was going right.

“’If you think you’re wrong, you’re right’ he said,” Ann muttered to herself, trying to bolster her courage. Her eyes shifted around, taking in the neighbourhood and hugged herself whilst the wind snatched her hair and coat. The number of people on the streets significantly dropped, like the condition of the houses. Ann started to feel less and less comfortable.

“Hey, honey. Where are you going?”
Ann stopped dead in her tracks and snapped around, her eyes boring in the dark coals of the man standing in front of her. He was about her height, incredibly skinny (almost emaciated) and hunched forward. His skin was paler than hers, wrinkly and looked sickly despite the yellow hue of to the streetlight above them. Everything about him screamed ‘DANGER! DANGER!’ to her.

His lips curled back, showing a row of some nasty yellow teeth that probably hadn’t seen a toothbrush or paste in ages and were the very nightmare of dentists. “What? Cat caught your tongue lovely?” His voice sounded like the cawing of a crow. Sharp and raspy.

“My destination is none of your concern. Get. Lost,” Ann growled. Trying to sound intimidating, but her efforts disappeared like a cloud in front of the sun when the man’s grin only widened.

“Why, the kitty has some claws. Don’t worry, we’ll rip them out for you-”

‘Wait, we?’

“- Jeff?”

A pair of arms suddenly encaged her, trying to pull her against a broad chest. She shrieked in surprise and that was when her instincts kicked in. She flailed around like a mad woman, striking everything in reach with her kneels and heels. Finally, she managed to tear herself away from the groping hand and ran straight into an alley.

“Fucking bitch. Don’t just stand around! Fucking get her!” She heard the lither man rasp.

Thick, heavy footsteps followed her. With each step Ann felt her heels sink in the muddy alley way, slowing her down significantly. Thank the gods that the heels were strapless. With a small jump, she flipped them off and started to continue on her bare feet. She had no time to pull a face in disgust on how the mud seeped between her toes with each step.

She didn’t dare to look back with her breath hitching in her throat and cramp traveling down her legs, nestling itself in her shins. Then a sharp pain travelled up her foot, causing her to gasp and jump. It was excruciating and hurt like hell with each step. She looked up, her hair whipping around her face in a red halo when she noticed the other end of the alley came closer and closer. People walked by, emerged in their own thoughts and not noticing the chase in the dark space between two buildings.

Just when Ann thought she was safe with a couple of meters to spare, something caught her coat and pulled hard. With violent smack she was thrown against the grimy black wall. Instantly an enormous foul reeking hand closed around her throat just below her jaw and pressed upwards and forward, causing sharp pain to flare up. A sickening metallic taste started to coat her tongue and her vision swam before her eyes when she dared to open them. She stared straight into the horrendously deformed face of the grunt that had dared to trap her less than a minute ago.  

“Gotcha..”

Ann felt his hand apply more pressure against her throat. She gasped, her nails raking along the skin in the hope that he would release her. Her bare feet twitched when they slowly lost their touch with the ground.

“Kill her. We can ransack her corps. Such a pretty thing must have some valuables on her,” the raspy voice of the second attacking spewed. Amusement latching onto every word.

Tears streamed from her eyes, rolling down her  cheeks as her gaze casted upwards to the dark sky above her. She felt her arms grow weak and slip from the hand around her neck, only to dangle beside her. Was this it? The end?

Someone yelled, no roared. It echoed in her head, but she couldn’t identify the words. Suddenly she was released and the moment her toes touched the ground her legs crumpled. Unable to carry her weight just yet. Her body twitched and screamed as each oxygen intake made her lungs grew twice their normal size. She coughed and reeled, emptying her stomach god knew where and was barely aware of two pair of feet ran away.

A hand landed on her shoulder, big and strong and pinching slightly to get her attention. She blinked a few times and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting the bile on her tongue along with that metallic taste of blood.

“Take it easy, girl. You okay?”

The voice was deep, raw and strangely soothing to her ears that now started to work again.  Ann looked up meeting a pair of dark hazel eyes that glanced down at her. She couldn’t help but to feel small, insignificant, underneath that dark gaze. So she pulled her eyes away from him and finally took the time to get her bearings.

Ann was sitting against the grimy wall in the mud and almost in her own vomit. She was shaking like a leaf, her throat hurt and she was slightly covered in mud, but at least she was alive.

“I.. I think I am. Thank you.“ Her raspy voice trembled as she spoke and her tongue hurt. Did she bit her tongue?  

“Can you stand?” The hand on her shoulder removed itself and was held out in front of her face. Palm turned upwards like an invitation.

Ann said nothing and grasped the warm and calloused hand. The contrast of her pale hand holding the tanned counterpart was almost blinding. She felt him pull her up almost gently as if she would shatter like glass. Her other hand reached out behind her, steadying herself against the wall. Her bare feet almost slipped in the mud, but with a light weight adjustment she managed to stand on both feet. A hand came to rest on her back to help steady her.

A dull pain throbbed in Ann’s left ankle. It was probably lightly sprained, but it seemed manageable until she noticed how tightly she was actually grasping the man’s hand and how much the world actually swayed before her eyes. Ann looked up, meeting those hazel depths again.

The owner of them had a strong jaw covered in stubble, a straight nose, defining cheekbones and some epic sideburns that turned into thick brown locks, combed back a bit to stay out of his face. He was overall not bad looking if you fell for the slightly rugged type guy. Somehow he vaguely reminded her of Wolverine from the X-men comics, but slightly more feral.

His lips then moved but no sound came out of it. A crease appeared between his eyebrows and his hand on her back grasped her shoulder, shaking her. He spoke again, this time her ears picked up the words but it took a time to for her head to wrap around them.

“Hey! Stay with me! Shit..” The man sighed, looking around him with his sharp eyes trying to find something that would help him. Anything..

“Can you tell me where you live? Do you live nearby? Or in a hotel or..?”

“I.. I..” Ann merely croaked, unable to produce anything else from her trembling lips. Then she felt herself go lax and fall straight into darkness.