Two - Carine

Staring at the two disgusting men before her, Carine felt a chill run up her spine and across her scalp when the younger one had said about cutting things. Even so there was no way she was about to give these two the satisfaction of dancing for them. They would do what they would do and nothing she did, no sordid act, was going to change her destiny. They were brutal rapists who liked to pick on the vulnerable and weak.

Let’s just see how weak I really am. She thought. I’ll scratch eyes and bite faces before they make me submit.

While her conscience felt this way, Carine felt the shiver and tremble across her body, the ice crystals forming in her guts and the tightness in her chest and throat when she tried to breathe.

How did this happen? How did I end up in this situation?

The night had started perfectly, a few drinks and light snacks with some of the animal shelter workers and a few of their sponsors. She had been charming and polite, helping to raise money and awareness of the shelter, as well as introducing some of the newcomers to the animals they housed, using larger than life photo’s of their most photogenic dogs. By the end of the night they had managed to raise a few thousand in investments and secured pledges of support for almost the same amount.

It had been late by the time the event ended but the other staff were not ready to call it a night and insisted she went with them to a club for some harder drinks and to throw some shapes. Reluctantly, Carine had agreed and found herself in a bar that seemed to head back into the building that housed it for miles. Dark décor and mood lighting filled the space with a few tables scattered about and some more intimate booths set along one wall. In the middle had been the oddly shaped dance floor on which hundreds of people gyrated and shook to some thick baseline the DJ had thumping from the speakers.

“Carine! Come dance with me!” Paul had yelled at her.

He stood about her height, skinny and too fond of knitwear, most of it made for a much older man. Dark blue jeans clad his legs but they were obviously too big for his frame and his belt cinched them tight, creating folds and odd shapes at his waist. He wore thick-rimmed glasses that made his face look smaller than it was and there were odd patterns to the stubble which tried to jut from his jaw where he had not shaved properly.

He was utterly convinced she was going to fall for him. In fact in the preceding six months he had asked her out more times than she could recall and she was running out of excuses to tell him no. Sadly he was also quite a caring guy and that, combined with the fact they worked together at the shelter, made it difficult for her to just tell him where to get off.

I don’t want to hurt him. She had thought as she shook her head and nodded to the bar.

Instead of her hope he would take the hint, Paul grinned his crooked smile and had followed her to the bar.

“Get you?” The midnight skinned bartender asked.

“Lemonade,” Carine said.

“And I’ll have a Pornstar Martini,” Paul had chuckled from beside her. “I know I should give all that up but the money’s great,” he had added trying to be funny.

Carine had rolled her eyes, the barman catching the gesture and smirking.

“Sure that’s what you want, mate?” He had yelled as he placed a glass before Carine.

“Bottle of Bud, please,” Paul had amended his order meekly. “So where you want to sit?” He had asked Carine after insisting he pay for her drink as well.

I bet he thinks that makes this a date. Carine thought with a shudder.

“I’m going to find Laura,” she had said, turning away.

Her friend was in deep conversation with someone she did not know and she had hovered about beside them as if part of the conversation until he noticed her. Laura followed his gaze and smiled.

“Hey, you,” she had said. “Good night? This is Alfonso,” she had added, introducing the tall, swarthy man.

Carine had shaken hands with him while she filled Laura in on her night.

“Not really, Paul won’t let me breathe. I thought it was bad at work but he’s got no filter out here, just keeps making stupid comments and suggestive ones at that.”

“Paul?” Alfonso asked, his voice deep and accented in Italian.

“Pervy guy that works with us,” Laura had told him. “I get...kinda...rapey vibes off him, you know?”

“He is danger?” Alfonso had asked, taking his arm from the bar and straightening drawing Carine’s gaze to his strong looking body.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Carine had said quickly. “He’s just too persistent. I can’t get rid of him no matter what I do.”

“I talk to him,” Alfonso had told her. “Man to man. Show me,” he added.

“I think I’m just going to go home,” Carine said. “See you later?” She asked Laura who shared the small flat she lived in.

“Maybe,” she had said, grazing her eyes over Alfonso’s impressive physique.

He caught the look and offered her one of his own, a dark, sultry gaze filled with the promise of fleshly delights.

“Ah, I see,” Carine had said.

Bidding them goodbye she had managed to evade Paul as she slipped from the club and into the night.

And that was the point when awkwardness had morphed into fully realised nightmare. The streets had been quiet just a short walk from the club and Carine found she only had a general idea of where she was headed.

Grab a taxi. Call an Uber. She had thought.

But those things cost a lot of money and working in a re-homing centre for abandoned dogs did not pay the top salary. A bus was going to be just as safe and a fraction of the cost.

If I can find one. Where even am I? She had wondered as she looked about at the long patches of shadow that might hide anything.

Litter blew across her path and the shuttered shops she passed were covered in graffiti and tags. That had been when Beavis and Butthead had dragged her into the alleyway and begun taunting her.

Now she was in the concrete coffin of an abandoned building at the mercy of two men who were about to rape and kill her.

Should have stuck with Paul. Her mind said.

Hann, the younger one, seemed to be in charge but she could see Glenn was chomping at the bit to play with his knife. All three of them looked up in surprise when the stranger cleared his throat.

He was barely visible in the weak light from the candles and lanterns. A phantom separated from the shadow as he stood there, silent and impassive. Carine felt something in her chest unclench a little until the thought hit her.

He might be with them!

No, they looked as surprised as I was. She thought as she studied the newcomer.

Of what she was able to see, he was at least six and a half feet tall and pretty much wore black from head to toe, long, dark hair waved about his shoulders when he moved his head but everything else was shrouded in darkness. Yet there was a feeling, something that radiated from him like an aura. Confidence and safety. She knew, knew, this man was here to save her without knowing how.

“Who the fuck are you?” Glenn demanded, waving his little toy knife. “Fuck off! Bitch is ours!”

While his words were harsh his tone was weak and there was a tremor to his voice that gave away the shock and fear he felt.

The stranger said nothing just looked at Glenn, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

“Be a good chap and do as he says, yeah?” Hann said casually. “Or he’s going to cut you.”

Glenn looked over at his friend uncertainly but nodded.

When it happened Carine barely saw him move. Glenn raised the knife and brought his hand back to strike, lashed out and found his hand trapped in the grip of the dark clad man. With his other hand the newcomer sent a slashing blow downwards, snapping the ulna and radius bones with a sickening crack. Carine looked at him in horror as Glenn screamed, grabbing his arm. She could see something white jutting from the dripping wound.

Jesus! She thought as bile rose in her throat.

“You fucker! You fucking fucker!” Hann yelled, his eloquence from earlier gone.

He stooped and grabbed a length of rusty iron, some kind of old water pipe with a threaded fitting on the end, three sections jutting from it. He swung as Glenn shuffled back, nursing his smashed arm and whimpering. The stranger dodged the pipe with ease, watching as Hann spun round, stumbling where the blow had not connected. The dark man’s hands shot out, enfolding Hann’s neck in a tight grip and lifting him off the floor.

How is he that strong? Carine wondered as Hann kicked his legs and tried to break the grip with his own hands to no avail.

Eventually Hann’s kicks became weaker, reduced to twitches and his face started to turn purple where it had been red.

“Don’t kill him!” Carine cried out. “Please.”

When he turned his gaze on her she felt her bowels turn to water. There was nothing human in the eyes that met hers, no hint of anything compassionate just empty rage and hate. Dropping Hann like a discarded rubbish sack he turned and braced himself against another upright, fingers grasping the sides as his whole body seemed to shake violently.

Must be adrenaline from the fight. Carine thought as she slipped down the post, her knees finally buckling.