Ass Saved

Before I can react, scream or complain, the owner of this violent body grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me down with him.

As I crash to the floor, with this very heavy man on top of me, I think: no. I won't let anyone fucking rape me. Oh, no.

If they want my body, they have to either be cute or pay for it.

I try to scream as the criminal rolls us under the counter. I move a lot trying to hit him in some strategic place, but I fail miserably. I try to free my hands to bring them to his face and gouge his eyes out, or give him an elbow in the ribs, or kick his balls, or throw my head back to break his nose. But, panicked, all I manage to do is move from side to side like a fish out of water.

I think this annoys him more, I can tell by the groans he makes with his throat. He's probably thinking about how to kill me more painfully for being such a complicated prey.

I don't know if I'm being way too dramatic about this situation, but I truly feel the need to run for my life. I take a breath to scream again, even though I know no one can hear me, but his hand covers my open mouth completely just before I make any sound.

I think I'm dealing with a professional sexual assailant.

I can taste the dirt and salt of his rough hand, and I inevitably choke on the dirtiness of it, which only makes him more annoyed.

"Stop fighting me," he whispers strongly in my ear and tightens his grip on my mouth, making my nausea worse, "I'm not the bad guy here."

Of course, I don't believe him. That's what all bad guys say to make you trust them and stop fighting so they can take advantage of your body.

However, I stop screaming and moving, because it's obvious how much stronger than me he is. I think the smartest thing to do right now is to stay still and save energy for later, when he's naked on top of me, trying to commit the act. Then I can kick his naked balls and put into practice everything I learned in the three self-defense classes I attended four years ago.

And then, while I'm still planning how to escape from him, the door crashes against the wall again, this time more aggressively. The noise is so loud that I swear the glass of the door has shattered.

My coffee shop fills with three male voices that are clearly not very happy.

I stop struggling against the guy and I even unconsciously move closer to him in search of protection. I mean, analyzing the situation, it's obvious that he is indeed the lesser threat. His voice sounds scary, but not completely murderous like the others who just entered.

Plus, if this violent and unexpected guy is running away, it must be from someone more dangerous than him.

In conclusion, I'd rather go against one guy than three. It's simple self-defense logic.

"Tell them you haven't seen me," he begs in a tiny little whisper, letting me go.

I hesitate to move for a few seconds and I even push myself towards him, with no desire to face the mysterious voices. But the guy keeps pushing me. When I realize that he won't stop and that the men won't leave unless they get some answers, I roll on the floor and get up on my hands and knees to look at the stupid guy.

He's lying in fetal position, snugly tucked in the small space under the counter, and he looks like he's really scared.

How pathetic, I can't believe I was scared of him.

"I'm fucking sick of running all over the place looking for him!" One of the guys growls. I guess he's talking about this loser, "No, Jace, I don't know! He's fast!"

I slowly get up, trying to fix my hair, and I look at the three guys. The one who is screaming is talking on the phone, but the other two are just looking out to the street and muttering to each other. Suddenly, I start questioning everything I just said about not being afraid of werewolves because I can tell that these guys are clearly werewolves and I'm close to peeing my pants.

I'm alone with three huge animal-people who could tear me appart in a second... and a scared useless man hidden at my feet, begging me to save it.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" I ask with my trained costumer-service voice and with a big fake smile. No matter how much I smile, I'm sure it's still evident that I'm terrified. My nostrils flare in panic every time I breathe.

They all set their intense eyes on me at the same time and a shiver runs down my spine. I get the biggest urge to run away, but I have to remind myself that if I do that, I won't make it far. They're way faster than me.

I've never been in such an extreme situation before. Alone, at night, in a small place with four men. I'm totally shitting myself. And I'm not even religious, but I start praying for God to forgive all my sins and not send me to hell when they kill me tonight.

I'm repenting, Jesus! I'm repenting!

"Yes," one of them answers, the biggest of them all, "We're looking for a guy who was running around here like a little fucking vermin. Have you seen him, by any chance?"

The little vermin wraps its hand around my leg at that moment. I find this desperate touch as a plea for its life.

I clear my throat, trying to think of something that might work. It's just the little vermin and me against these three animals and we won't stand a chance of surviving if I don't do this right.

"I'm so sorry, guys. I'd love to help you out, but I've only had contact with five humans all day, and none of them were running. If I had seen him, I'd totally tell you because I hate vermins. But I didn't see anything or anyone. But again, if I had..."

The three werewolves curse loudly before I can even finish and they walk out to keep running, without even thanking me for my help.

Hm, I guess I turned out to be a fabulous actress.

I let out all the air in my lungs with a relieved whistle and lean on the counter with my hands to avoid falling to the floor with my trembling and unsteady knees. I kick the guy's abdomen to make him get up and explain to me everything that just happened.

He lets out a small arrogant laugh of triumph as he gets up from the floor, as if he hadn't been begging for his life a second ago.

I look at him with confusion, expecting that moment where at least he thanks me, but he just winks at me and gives me an arrogant smile, he jumps over the counter without any apparent effort, and, just like that, as if I hadn't just saved his little vermin ass, he leaves the coffee shop, walking calmly in the opposite direction where the werewolves went.

What the hell just happened?