A/N: okay this is a short story that might take up to one or two chapters… I'm not sure depends on how much I'll get done today. But yeah it was bothering me to be written one day while I was laying in bed with nothing to think about. I just wanted you all to know I have not given up on Out of the dark and into the light I'm simply taking a break from it. Don't worry to those who actually like it. Another chapter will soon be up, but in the mean time please read and review!
What would you say if you were held at gun point, your life was threatened but you were allowed to call one person. Any one person. Who would you call and what would you say? What if you were only allowed to say three words? What would you say then? What would you say?
They had cornered him down an alley way off of Walsh Street. Seven of them. Black ski masked men smelling strongly of alcohol and waving smoking cigarettes airily as they casually circled him, cutting off all escape routes. They laughed maliciously as he stumbled back in panic, smacking into the cold brick wall of the abandoned apartment complex.
His stomach clenched fearfully as his heart thudded painfully against his rib cage. He nervously shoved his hands into the pouch of his hoody in a desperate attempt to hide his quivering fingers from the cold calculating eyes of his soon to be attackers. Unfortunately his fear didn't go unnoticed.
The broadest of the faceless men flicked ashes at him. Zack shrank away, pressing his spine firmly against the brick, seeking to disappear.
"Look at him shake," the man sneered, taking a long drag on his cigarette.
"Ah, we wouldn't hurt such a pretty thing like you-much," said a smaller, twitchy man.
Zack's eyes flicked to the man's and was instantly stricken with an intense ominous feeling when he saw how those hungry eyes roved approvingly over Zack's small frame. He slowly inched away from the violating gaze but was shoved roughly at the twitchy man by hands from behind.
"You'll have your fun Frank," laughed another man.
The man holding Zack-Frank- reached out a grubby hand and stroked Zack's smooth blond hair. Zack cringed and tried to lunge loose but Frank wrenched his wrist behind his back, bringing Zack to his knees. He cried out pathetically as the bones in his wrist popped and cracked threatening as Frank twisted harder.
"That's right my pretty," the sick man crooned in Zack's ear.
"Let go of me!" Zack screamed desperately, trying to scramble loose but the pervert held fast.
He was shaking all over for he knew there was no escaping. Tears of impending doom and frustration fell down his cheeks as he was dragged to a rusted, mud splattered truck. The men laughed their hyena cackles as he kicked out crazily, digging his heels into the grime caked pavement, seeking to slow their progress.
"Help! Help! HELP!" His cries turned to whimpers as they laughed mockingly at him.
Zack's mind frantically raced as he searched every nook and cranny of his brain for ways to get out of this situation but he came up empty every time. He was as good as a goner.
Kiss your life good bye, Zackey-Boy. This is what you get for not paying attention in those emergency drills they held at school. This is what you get.
"Somebody help me…" he whispered as the warm breeze blew gently against his tear streaked cheeks, bluntly denying that a teenage boy's innocence was about to be stolen on such a beautiful, peaceful summer night.
A/N: Yeah didn't get much done tonight but don't you worry! There is more to come!
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