Muddy water splashed up his boots as he ran, stumbling down the alleyway. Every breath felt like fire in his sides; his legs felt heavier than lead, but he dared not stop and rest. If he fell now, he'd never find the strength to get up again. He had to get away… he had to escape her…
Her. The Lady. What a laugh. No more a lady than she was human. That, he'd learned the hard way. Every night she'd find him, no matter where he went. The pain…
"Here, my pretty… Where is my preeeeetty… Don't run away!"
Choking back a sob, he redoubled his speed, only to slip in the mud and land sprawling. Desperately, he tried to scramble up, tried to crawl away…
She was there. Lifting him out of the mud, stroking his face. "Now, dear, it's not nice to run from Mommy."
"I'm not… your… son!" he gasped.
"That's not very nice to say, young man. I'm just going to have to take you home, make sure you behave." Horrified, helpless, he stared up at her, at those insane and inhuman eyes. "Bad boys have to go to their rooms without their suppers," she told him solemnly, dragging him stumbling back down the alleyway. He tried to plant his feet, to pull away, but her grip was iron and irresistible, more like wrestling with a locomotive than a frail noblewomen.
He stumbled and fell, she dragged him. He tried to cry out for help, she wrapped those tiny little steel fingers around his throat until he choked. The journey blurred into an eternity of fear and exhaustion…
She pushed him down the last few stairs into the cellar. Unable to catch himself, he hit the ground hard, and moaned. "You've been a bad boy. Bad boys have to stay locked up in their rooms." Catching the heavy door in one hand, she waved. "Bye bye! Sleep tight!" The door slammed shut with a crash, and a scraping attested to the bolt locking it in place
Alone in the dark.
Alone in the dark…
Anahadros jerked awake, eyes darting franticly. Seeing nothing but the stark walls of their temporary haven, he let his head fall back to the pillow. Not here. Dammit! Why the Hell am I dreaming about that now? It's been so long…Staggering up, he paced to shake off the lethargy of daylight. No clock… Where was this place? He hadn't been paying attention this morning. Agitated, he swiped the long, raggedly cut hair out of his face.
Recker'd be there soon. He always came to get Anahandros just after sundown. Nothing to worry about. Dropping back down on the bedspread, Anahandros carefully started to dismantle and clean his gun, the familiar actions soothing his nerves, passing the time.
Damn, but I wish he'd hurry up…
A/N - I was bored. Level of boredom is directly proportional to the rate of updatage... Inspiration is directly proportional to number of reviews x level of boredom.