Snow White Queen Chapter 2

Amy screamed into the hand of her attacker as they placed her petite form on the bed causing the bed springs to creak loudly. She thrashed around violently, looking for a way to escape her attacker's arms. The hand against her mouth tightened around her muzzle, hurting her jaw. Her attempts to escape came to a halt once the figure forced his weight on her. She looked up only to get hypnotized by the pair of soulless, blood-red irises staring intently down on her. The rest of the figure's features were hidden by the hood of a large coat. Her body went numb and the grip of the hand against her mouth loosened as she fell under a trance. Soon, Amy snapped out of the spell the figure's eyes had put on her. Once realizing the situation she was in, she knew there was nothing she could do but shut her eyes and beg for mercy.

So that's exactly what she did.

"Please don't hurt me," she begged, which came out muffled due to the hand of the intruder. Amy wasn't normally one to beg for mercy, but at the moment, there was nothing else for her to do. She shivered at the suddenly breeze of warm air on her forehead. A pair of lips were then placed on the center of her forehead that caused her eyes to shoot open. The intruder's eyes stared coldly at her and made her feel like the temperature in the room dropped by at least five degrees. The pair of lips went back to her forehead once again before trailing downwards, planting kisses along the way. Amy whimpered once they reached just above her covered lips. Her attacker removed his hand but she paid no mind to that. The only thing she could focus on was that she was about to lose her first kiss to a stranger. She wanted to scream in protest but her voice refused to make a sound, just like earlier downstairs. Once another breath of air blew near her lips, Amy immediately gained the courage to speak.

"Please don't," she whispered. She flinched at the intense stare the intruder gave her. "Don't do that. It means a lot to me."

To her surprise, the lips moved away and went back to her forehead. They planted one last kiss there before pulling away completely.

"I won't force you to do anything that you don't want to do Amy," the deep, smooth voice of the figure that Amy could safely label as a male muttered. She couldn't remember a time where she was this confused and scared at the same time.

How does he know my name? She thought. She opened her eyes once again, only to find the male staring down at her. His eyes — for the first time since Amy had met him — were expressing emotion. The eyes that had stared so coldly at her before were now filled with remorse and pity.

"I will let you go if you don't run away," he said in a tone that made Amy feel safe. She just nodded in agreement, seeing as she couldn't speak. Once the weight of the male came off her, she took it as an advantage. Throwing the male off of her, she jumped off the bed and ran to the door. Just a few steps away from the door, he sped in front of her. He gripped her shoulders roughly and forced her to stare into his eyes which were now flooded with betrayal and anger. Those eyes made her feel like she had actually betrayed someone close to her. A deep growl came from his throat.

"You little-" he started before slapping her across the face with the back of his hand.

"Ah!" She tumbled to the floor, clutching her cheek with a pained expression in her face. How could he have been so nice and then turn so violent so quickly? She looked up slowly, expecting another hit but — to her surprise — was only met with a pair of eyes filled with remorse. He quickly dove to the floor and wrapped his arms around her frame. Amy's eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just — don't run away from me. I hate when people do that. Just please forgive me," the male said, his bass voice drowning in sadness. She looked at him in shock. Here was the stranger that had just snuck into one of her best friend's workshop, on his knees, begging for forgiveness. Was he really even a bad person?

"Uh, its fine. I'm not hurt," she assured, awkwardly. He leaned in for a hug and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around the male before her. The two stayed like that for a few moments. Soon enough, Amy pulled away. The male placed a hand to her aching cheek, causing her to flinch. His eyes shut and he turned away in shame as if wishing the last few minutes of his life didn't happen. He rose to his feet, scooping Amy into his arms.

"What the-Where are you taking me?" She demanded. He may have treated her kindly, but he was still a stranger; a violent one. He ignored her question and just walked over to the messy bed. He pulled up comforter and placed her under it, pulling the sheet over her. Once again, Amy was left in confusion. Just who was this guy?

"I can tell that you're tired. This is the least I can do for hitting you," he reassured. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to leave."

Amy still didn't know him and yet she was beginning to feel safe with him. He had warmed up to her in comparison to earlier when she thought he was going to hurt her. He didn't seem like a bad person, but just a confused one.

"Goodbye Amy," the male's deep voice whispered. He headed over to the open window and placed his leg over the ledge.

"Wait."

That one word made the hooded male stop in his tracks. He turned back to see Amy sitting up in the bed staring at him as if trying to figure him out.

"Who are you?" She asked, bringing her gaze back up to his crimson eyes. He looked out the window for a few moments. Amy watched in confusion. Why would he need to think about his name?

"Just call me... Strike." And with that, he jumped out the window, leaving Amy to ponder on it.

"Strike," she thought aloud, taking in the new information. She laid back down, staring up a the ceiling. Her eyes began to droop and before she knew it, she was asleep. One last question lingered through her head before she fell into slumber.

When would she see him again?

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The straw of Amy's chocolate milkshake spun repeatedly around the cup, moving along with her finger. It had been a week since Amy last saw Strike. She had kept their meeting a secret until Rouge and Cream — mostly Rouge — forced her out her house and managed to get her to talk. The trio sat in a diner, sipping milkshakes and managed to get Amy to talk. She told them everything except for the part where Strike had slapped her. There was a scar on her face from a cut she had gotten from the hit but nobody really asked her about it. She looked up at her friend's confused faces before resting the knuckles of her hand on her cheek and raising a brow at them. They seemed very confused, but she was too the day it had happened so she couldn't complain.

"Wait, so he just left? Just like that?" Rouge asked, taking a small sip of her vanilla milkshake. Her aquamarine irises sparkled in interest at the information shared just minutes ago. "Without even a goodbye, or a name?"

"Actually, he did tell me his name." Amy replied before talking a sip of her own chocolate milkshake. She rested her chin into the palm of her hand before giving the white bat and cream rabbit before her an uninterested look. "It was Strike."

"Strike? Sounds violent," Cream thought, more to herself than aloud. She spun the straw of her strawberry milk around her cup in the same way as Amy had done. "But I shouldn't judge, I haven't even met him before."

"Yeah, but from what Amy says, he does seem violent." Rouge commented, agreeing with Cream's words. She directed her attention back to Amy, who began to once again play with her milkshake's straw. "He treated you like he was an ex-con or something."

"Come on guys. You don't have to worry about me," Amy replied, reaching for her milkshak to take a sip. She looked back up and the two before sighing. She put her other hand on the table and tiled her head slightly only to give her friends a reassuring look. "Look, it was probably just a one time thing anyways. I probably won't ever see him again."

"It's possible he could come back though," Cream stated.

Amy blinked before looking down at the black and white checkered table. "I guess it is."

Silence consumed the table as the three sipped their milkshakes. Rouge leaned over to Cream, watching as the pink hedgehog across from the two stared out the large window next to them.

"You see the scar on her cheek? She didn't have that before she met Strike," Rouge whispered while keeping her eyes on Amy as she took another sip of her milkshake.

"Well, we haven't seen her in a whole week Rouge. She could have gotten that anywhere. We shouldn't just assume every mark on her body is from a guy she meet seven days ago," Cream whispered back.

Rouge frowned before sighing in defeat. "Yeah, I guess you're right."