Stripped
Disclaimer: I own Chester Meroff, Ms. Welsh and her kids, and a new character Kreela (Spawned from WAY too much KOTOR II). Don't use them with out asking.
Ben emerged from the bathroom, wearing her normal attire. Not only did she had to worry about getting her necklace back from Chester and not get herself killed in the process, but she had to worry about protecting her unborn child as well. She walked over to the window and placing her hands on the window, looking out it as she tried to sort her thoughts out.
As she was thinking a thought nagged at her. She had to leave this place. She couldn't let these people to become targets for Chester. She opened the window, slowly as to not cause any noise, and climbed out of it, landing with a soft crunch as her feet hit the ground. She cast one last look at the open window before turning and heading through the rose bushes. Little did she know that James was watching her leave through his bedroom window and turned away to go report to his mother.
"Mother, she left," James announced to Ms. Welsh, who was sitting in her dark blue velvet armchair.
"It is not safe for her out there. Go and find her before he does," Ms. Welsh told him, her whole demeanor changing from cheerful to serious.
"Yes Mother," James said, turning to leave, but before he got the chance to open the door, she stopped him.
"Oh and protect her, with your life if you must."
James nodded and walked out into the night.
It was unusually crowded on the streets. Ben had to weave in and out of feet as she made her way down the sidewalk. Her ear twitched as it picked up the faint sounds of a violin. As it got louder as she approached, she wondered if she should go back to Baker Street. She wanted to apologize for what she did to Basil. She shook her head, deciding it probably wasn't a good idea just yet. Basil didn't seem like the type that forgave people easily, especially if they punched him.
Ben felt a small twinge of guilt at the memory of that incident as she walked quickly past Baker Street, avoiding looking at the house as she made her way through a particularly crowded spot on the sidewalk. Her mind didn't have a clue as to where she was going, but her body seemed to know exactly where it was going as she made her way to a sewer opening. She remembered, from back when she was younger, a couple older street mice told her this was short cut to The Rat Trap, a local cantina located by the edge of the river. She climbed down the opening, using an old rusted ladder to make her way to the bottom. The last two rungs were so rusted through that she didn't trust them to hold her weight, so she jumped off, making sure not to land in the water that flowed down a channel in the center of the sewer. She heard stories about mice coming down here and never being heard from again. From the looks of the water, it was the reason.
She walked to the end of the channel, to a series of pipes that led to the cantina. She was about to climb into one when she stopped. What was she doing going to the Rat Trap? She had to go hunt down that bastard Chester, not go to some seedy bar. Without warning, a thought came into her mind. Maybe she was going there for a reason. Maybe a clue, or perhaps the answer, to where Chester's whereabouts was there. With that thought, and a feeling she couldn't quite place, she climbed up into the pipe and wove her way through the maze of corroded metal. When she finally got to the end, she climbed out and saw the entrance to the Rat Trap right in front of her. The feeling she had got stronger as she made her way into the cantina.
The cantina was a dark, dank place, full of mice that looked like they'll slit your throat if you looked at them. The stench of dirty fur and cheap alcohol was overpowering and the stale smoke from many cigarettes stung Ben's eyes as she made her way across the cantina, to an empty chair by a stained table with a dagger sticking out of the worn top. She felt unfriendly eyes upon her as she stared to the table, wondering just who that dagger was meant for. The place erupted with catcalls and obscene invitations as a gray female mouse stepped out onto the stage, singing a risqué song and dancing suggestively in a skimpy black outfit lined with fur. Ben glanced up from the dagger, just in time to see a rather large mouse holding a pewter mug bump right into her, sloshing some of the mug's contents on her.
"Hey, watch it," He slurred, his alcohol tainted breath rushing by her. She reflexively wrinkled he nose and got up to move away.
"Where you think you're goin'?" He asked, grabbing her arm. She pulled it away, glaring at the drunken mouse with a look that can rival any of those in the cantina.
"You got a problem?" He asked, attempting to take a swig of his drink, but missing his mouth completely, spilling it on his dirty red shirt instead.
"Now look what you made me do!" He screamed, throwing the mug at Ben's feet. She backed up against the table before the mug had a chance to hit her, instead it cracked the floorboards where it impacted and rolled under a table. Ben just hardened her glare, to try to mask the many emotions that flowed through her at the moment.
"You're not getting' away with makin' me waste my drink," He growled in her face, baring his jagged yellow teeth as he advanced on her. As she attempted to back away more, her hand brushed up against the dagger. She swiftly reached over and grabbed the handle of the dagger and wrenched it from the table. She held it out in front of her, hoping that it would at least make him step back so she can run, but to her dismay it didn't. He just grabbed her wrist and bent it back, causing her hand to open and the dagger to slide across the floor.
"Now you pull a knife on me?" He sneered, throwing her down on the soiled floor. She landed face down, but rolled over quickly, and just in time to see the drunken mouse's foot coming down toward her stomach. Her hands shot up, grabbing the mouse's foot in an attempt to protect herself. Her arms strained as she tried to keep his foot at bay, but her arms, especially her injured one, wouldn't hold too long. He was heavy and his foot kept inching toward her as her burning muscles started to give out. When she felt she couldn't hold him up anymore, he was jerked back, like an invisible hand grabbed him and pulled him backwards, sending him sprawling into another mouse, one that looked like a walking mountain of muscle and teeth.
"Why you. . ." The other mouse growled, grabbing Ben's attacker by the front of his shirt and landing a punch on his nose. That served as a catalyst to a fight involving everyone but Ben, who was now caught in the middle of it all. She weaved through flying fists and dodged mugs and various other weapons that were being thrown, one narrowly missing her ear. She felt a touch on her shoulder and she spun around, ready to hit whoever it was that touched her, but when she saw who touched her she stopped. It was a figure, whether it was male or female she didn't know because they were wearing a black robe. The hood was pulled over their head, obscuring their face from view. They motioned for Ben to follow them.
Ben didn't know why, but she felt as if she could trust this mysterious figure. She followed, as the figure waved their hand out in front of them, causing the mice and rats in front of them to part, making a path in front of them. They were either too drunk or too involved in their brawl to even notice that whatever it was that the stranger did was strange, but Ben did as she followed them out of the cantina. Once they were outside, Ben turned to ask the figure just exactly who they were and what it was they did, but they just held up a gray furred hand, stopping her.
"All your questions will be answered in time, young one," The figure told her in a gravelly, but unmistakably feminine voice. "Now we must move on. It is not safe for you or your unborn child here."
That comment made Ben's eyes widen with shock. How did this woman, who she didn't even know, know that she was pregnant?
Yes, I will explain about the mystery person. Yes, I will bring Basil and Dawson back into the scene soon enough.
That's it for now, sit tight my dears, more is on the way. . .