Chapter 3

"All the pain I thought I knew
All the thoughts lead back to you
Back to what was never said
Back and forth inside my head
I can't handle this confusion
I'm unable; come and take me away"

-Avril Lavigne, "Take Me Away"

While Erik continued to suffer in prison late that dreary night, Christine continued to become more and more drunk. In her drunken stupor, she had entirely forgotten about the reason she was there in the first place. She was enjoying the numbing effects of the alcohol and trying to forget. She couldn't precisely remember what but she knew there was something or someone.

Soon people started to leave the bar and return to their respectable homes, and she realized that she had lost track of time. She decided to ask the bartender about it. "Sir, d'you have the time," she slurred.

"Two fifteen in the morning, Miss," he replied feeling a little sorry for her now. "You should be gettin' on home. You never know what's out there in the night this late. Could be monsters…or worse. Could be ghosts."

"Right," Christine said, a little sarcastically, but still clearly drunk. "I don't believe in ghosts." She searched her dress for some money to pay for the last drink she had. Finding only a few coins, she shrugged, laying them on the bar. "S'all I got," she said.

"S'alright, darlin'," he said, with a wicked grin on his face. "Maybe you could pay me back in a different way," he said, winking at her.

It took Christine a few moments to figure out what he meant by that last comment. But when she did realize, she blanched, and stood up very fast, thinking she could run. That was a big mistake. The moment she stood up, she knew she wasn't going to be running anywhere anytime soon. Everything started spinning. So fast.

Faster. Faster. And then it all went black. She passed out.

The bartender grinned. "Well, ain't that a spot of bad luck," he chuckled,"...for her anyway." He climbed over the bar, and picked her up rather clumsily. "Looks like you're comin' home with me after all, Darlin'."

He laid her up on top of the counter. "But first...," he said, starting to pull up her dress. He let his hands run up her silky smooth legs. He let out a moan, finding enjoyment in this torture. He just couldn't believe his luck tonight. It had been awhile since he'd had any woman, even a whore. But this girl, he decided, was so much better than any whore. So young, so clean, so innocent. He was going to have some fun tonight.

Being too immersed in his activities, he didn't see the person that had crept up behind him. And he jumped when he heard a powerful voice say, "Get your filthy hands off of her." Much to his surprise the voice was that of a woman. It was the woman that Christine had asked him about earlier.

When he didn't move, she spoke again. "Did I not just tell you to get your hands the hell off of that woman?"

"Why should I, you filthy bitch?" he roared, hoping it would scare her a bit. He looked in her eyes expecting to see fear, but he didn't. He saw nothing. No fear, no hate. Nothing. How could she not be afraid of him? He was a large man and she was just a tiny woman.

"I'll ask you one more time," she said, rather forcefully, "Take your hands off of her."

"Or what?" he teased. "Gonna claw me to death, woman?" He tried not to let it show, but he was a little intimidated by this woman. No woman had every confronted him in this way. It wasn't her business what he did with this drunken girl that couldn't pay her tab anyway.

To his surprise, the strange, foreign woman pulled out a pistol from under her blouse. It was a rather old pistol, much like the ones that the French privateers carried as they traveled the seas in the early 1800's. He wondered why anyone would have a gun like that, much less a woman.

She pointed the pistol at this head and said, "Hands off, please," in a much gentler voice.

He gladly obliged, not willing to lose his life over one girl. He could just as easily find some whore to satisfy his needs.

"Now get out," she said, not moving the gun from its position aimed straight at his head.

After he was gone, she turned to the shocked crowd. "I suggest you forget everything that you saw in here today...or there will be hell to pay," she said. "Oh, and just to let you all know, I have no problems with killing a man."

At that, most of the few people left in the bar got out as fast as they could, frightened of this mysterious woman. She turned to Christine, who was still passed out. I guess I'll have to help her then, she thought. She stashed the pistol safely back under her blouse, having no need for it at the moment. She picked Christine up gently and walked out of the bar, glaring at the two men who hadn't run out with the rest of the crowd.

Well that's all for now. I hope this story is finally getting interesting for you all. I was going to get this written and posted yesterday but we didn't get home until 1:30 in the morning. Me and 3 of my friends went out to see The Longest Yard. It's a great movie...very funny. Anyway, tell me if you like my story so far. Or you can criticize me if you don't like it. Either way. Please Review.