Lick The Pavement
Chapter Eight: Antonia Anderson
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//It scares the hell out of me
And the end is all I can see
And it scares the hell out of me
And the end is all I can see//
Thoughts Of A Dying Atheist - Muse
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"Leggo a'me, lemme go, ye bastids..."
Kicking and screaming, Antonia Anderson, or Tone as she was better known, was lifted bodily, arms and legs, and hurled into the side of a black van. Kidnapped and surrounded by dark clothed police, she felt her heartbeat race.
If the Irish MSDC Police hadn't been so under trained at that moment, they might have subdued her with the power-suppressant knock-out gas, but as it was, Antonia was left conscious and with her abilities, able to use them to get out of the situation.
She'd gotten INto this situation in the first place by mistake.
Playing football in the girls versus boys match at thirteen, her powers had burst from her, sending hordes of tiny spiders marching across the bleachers in response to some bystander's arachnophobia.
Now, some three years later, the MSDC had apparently tracked her down. The whole thing had been televised, yet it still couldn't have been easy to identify the girl as the cause.
She looked normal, with her average height of 5'5", her light brown hair, her heart shaped face. It was a shame that she hadn't been wearing her shades that day, so her solid black eyes had been noticeable, obviously what must have betrayed her.
So now, caught like an animal and thrown in a van, her powers once again moved through her. She focused on the driver, and there was suddenly a scream from the cab. The van's wheels screamed as the vehicle swerved crazily across the road, the bodies in the van being thrown together like dolls.
There was a screech and a bang and the last thing Tone saw was the van's back window coming closer...
She came to in a place she didn't recognise.
She felt drugged and groggy and her face hurt. She raised a hand to assess the damage and felt something thick and tacky on her face.
She glanced around the small box cell and found a mirror, suspended in the bathroom corner above a sink and a toilet. Both afforded her no privacy. It was one of those unbreakable ones, and she didn't like to think about why that would be a concern in a place like this.
She walked, trembling from shock, towards the mirror and gasped when she saw her reflection, fingers fluttering from her face to her hair.
She looked terrible. Her hair, once waist long, was now shorn to her ears. Blood marred the bottom of her face, the source a long cut across her face, cutting through her left eye and stretching to stop at her lip.
Horrified, she opened the eye that was bisected and found, to her relief, that it was undamaged.
She carefully cleaned and dried the wound, then lay down on the practical crate that was her bed.
"What will my parents be thinkin'?" She wondered, before uncharacteristically crying herself to sleep.
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Reservoir Dogs rocked, but not as much as Fight Club. Anyhue, Chapter the Ninth will be out... in a click of the next chapter button... Hooray!