Mugged
Mugged. Verb. To assault or menace, especially with the intention of robbery. See burglarized, rip-off, rob
Logan didn't see it coming.
He was walking back to Rocque Records after having walked Camille to an audition for a movie where he was grabbed and thrown into an alley. Stars exploded in front of his eyes as his head hit a metal trashcan, sending it rolling away. He didn't have time to gasp or scream before someone grabbed his neck with one hand and pinned his shoulder down with the other one.
"Scream and I'll kill you," he heard a voice hiss in his ear.
Fear does many things to people. It may drive them to acts they never thought they could do and it could also render one frozen in place. For Logan that was exactly what happened. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a car he sat there. Unable to move, unable to say anything, his heart beating so fast and hard he wondered, absent mindedly, whether or not his attacker could hear it.
Of course, he did not. But when she didn't respond he bit his lip and said in a menacing voice, "Now I'm going to give you something." Logan blinked, hearing the words, but he didn't dare move. He opened her mouth to say something logical, that there were many people around and that he would get caught, but instead of words he whimpered. In the back of his mind, the idea of him getting shot or stabbed kept him from doing anything stupid.
Logan's attack grabbed his neck harder, and pushed down causing him to begin coughing.
"Please don't kill me, please don't kill me," Logan chanted it over and over again as if it would make his attack let go. He was hoping that someone or something out there would save her.
But it didn't matter, his attacker beat him viciously. Logan's arms held up pitifully to defend himself, and his attacker's stronger arms continued hitting him. Pull back, strike, pull back, strike, a repeating pattern. Every hit, every punch, felt real. Each strike hurt more than the last, and he could feel the bruises forming. His nerves were screaming in pain, but his mouth refuses to let himself scream out loud.
The beating did not last long in reality. But in their own bubble of hell, it seemed to last forever. And when he had finished, Logan was too weak to even get up. His attacker was not stupid; he knew that he could not linger long. With a bruise on his knuckles one hand, and blood on the other, he ran.
A/N: Oooh, who was that? What happened? Hahaha. Sorry it was short, but it needed to be to get the point across. It took me a long time to write this in a vague way that still was powerful. I wrote and re-wrote it like 8 times and I think I did it justice now. I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'll update again soon.
Cheers,
-Riley
