I've wasted time, I've wasted breath
I think I've thought myself to death
Rubble, the smell of death and burned earth, heat. She had long since ditched the heels, what was the point in putting up a front? The world was coming to an end, who was she to parade herself around in 6 inch stiletto pumps? That was a stupid choice to begin with as it was, but she figured if the world was going to end she may as well go out stylish right? Pfft. That was a bullshit excuse and she knew it. Always the pretty blonde right? Impress the boy with the hot car, and up losing the boy, and your daddy, just because you were too much of a damsel in distress? Yeah, she was really a piece of work.
Now look at her, stumbling, falling, getting back up only to stumble and fall again. Stupid bitch. The words wrapped and floated and sang throughout her throbbing skull. Her daddy only wanted what was best for her, pawned off metal for scrap and made stupid little trinkets trying to make her life better. She was unappreciative. Always unappreciative. Now her skin was charred, blister coating the once perfect complexion she prided herself on. She wondered how she looked now, no compact in hand to gaze at her visage for hours, making sure everything was in place. Her white dress was in tatters, ripped, and burned black. She struggled to pull up the top that had been seared. She only had one cup left on her bra, and the skin on her breast that struggled to free itself from the remnants of her top was burned a vibrant red.
She should have died with them, all of them. The Autobots, her father, her boyfriend. His sweet car. She stumbled again, she was probably more of a clutz without heels than she ever was with them. Stupid, stupid bitch. There it was again, that degrading true thought. Oh how she wished for fucking death. Please, anybody. Surely there was some desperate hack that could take her life, save her the trouble of having to do it herself.
Her stomach made the god awful sound of hunger, growling out its horrendous need for sustenance. Oh of all the rotten luck. Maybe she could steal something from a deli or something. She lost track of where she was very quickly, jumping at the sound of any vehicle, fear that it might be the evil she'd so narrowly escaped. She was a lost, scared little girl with no hopes of surviving.
The growl of a stray dog made her jump, looking into the eyes of a scraggly flea-bitten stray. At its feet rested something she'd probably never see again, a half-eaten container of Chinese noodles. You wouldn't. The mocking voice rang through her head, disgust lacing the tone. It was probably covered in maggots, and for all she knew disease. You simply couldn't. Her stomach roared in demand and the dog snarled harder at her. Kill or be killed. Another voice answered the other one, a chime of malice in it. She needed food, and the dog was on the verge of death.
There was a struggle, the dog's teeth latched onto her arm, her hair, her face. She screamed in pain, whirling on it, biting its already torn off ear and tearing the flesh away. It yelped in rage and stumbled, but like the hellacious thing it was with a powerful need to survive it came back. She landed on her back, the dog went for her throat. She let out a squeal of desperation jabbing her once prim nails into the beasts sockets. She relished in the howl of horrendous pain she had caused, watching as the dog shook it's head violently. He was angrier now, more savage. She reached for a piece of rubble, the dog launched, she swung. There was a loud crack,The dog died. She got the half eaten carton of Chinese food, that would probably kill her if she ate it.
She hadn't noticed that her struggle with the dog had attracted unwanted attention, hadn't noticed the man with evil in his eyes approach. She'd been too busy scarfing down the food that probably would have made her puke in other circumstances. She didn't notice him looming like a predator, didn't hear his heavy, unnatural breathing. Not until his shadow brushed over her's did she notice him, eyes wild with craze, face scarred and lips cracked.
He was upon her before she could do much of anything, ripping at the remnants of her dress until it tore, with a sickening sound. She cried out, clawing and punching at the larger brute. Hit bit her skin, she bit back. He punched her in the face, she sobbed. His hands were upon her thighs, ripping her legs further apart, he went for her unruined panties, he ripped them away. She let out a scream, no one answered. She thought it was hopeless, and then everything stopped. The man was ripped from her, blood spattered over her, there was a blinding light.
When the light cleared, oh Tessa wished the man would have been her end.
WOAH, come with me now
I'm gonna take you down,
WOAH-OH come with me now.