Wirklich ein Engel(truly an Angel)

Bobby glanced over his shoulder at the house as the red head slumped over the blue mutant, senseless. He nearly dropped the baseball bat he had struck her with. He hadn’t bargained on this, no one else was supposed to get involved. Why would she? He was just a mutie!

“Shit.” He hissed. “What are we gonna do with her? She saw us, she’ll call the cops..”

“Bring her with.” Jake replied shortly, glancing up at the house. No one seemed to have heard anything. Hell, he could hear the music from Pirates of the Caribbean playing a few decibels louder than his car’s sound system. “She’s not bad lookin’. I’m sure we can think of something to do with her.”

Bobby lifted the redhead into his arms, carefully balancing the baseball bat in one hand as Derrick slung the prone mutant over his shoulder. Jake cast one last glance at the house before they made a break for the truck, tossing Nightcrawler into the bed, binding wrists and ankles with rope provided by Jardine before fitting a tarp in place. It wouldn't do to have some Mutie sympathizer seeing him on the highway. Ivy on the other hand was taken into the cab with Jake and Derrick while Bobby and Jeffy clambered into Bobby’s car parked a few houses down.

And then they were peeling out of Mrs. Wilhelm’s drive and tearing down the street towards the highway, laughing like crows drunk on dark ambition. Adrenaline pounded in their ears like drums of war, music sweet with the promise of cold hard cash. Derrick grinned as he finished binding the girl’s wrists behind her back and slid his hand up under her shirt, fondling her ample breasts.

“She’s hot.” He said simply, a world of meaning in those two words. Jake’s smile showed similar thoughts. Ivy groaned and stirred, the first thing she was aware of was the faint rumble of an engine, motion, and a throbbing pain in her skull.

“Look who’s awake.” Derrick commented, giving her breasts a pronounced squeeze, seeming to take a perverse satisfaction from her hiss of pain. “The little mutie lovin’ slut. Listen, bitch. If you scream, he’s dead, understand.”

Ivy nodded, emerald eyes darting to the window, the tall, broad jock at the wheel. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Where was Kurt? Where the hell were they going? She couldn’t help but think that she should have done something more. She was ashamed. She had been beaten in her own yard and now not only was she in danger, but so was Kurt. She should have done something. But, she also knew that she wouldn’t have stood a chance. She wasn’t a superhero. They had gotten into the yard too quickly, taking out Kurt in a horrible display of astuteness and planning. But, if she had screamed, fought, the others may have heard and come to help. She winced and bit back frightened and humiliated tears as the guy in the passenger seat continued to grope her, pawing at her breasts and reaching past the hem of her pants, teasing her, and non too gently either.

Ivy endured over two hours of being groped, slapped and threatened by the two young men, vaguely aware that the city was fading slowly to wilderness. She was certain he was going to be killed and left in a ditch without even the comfort of knowing if Kurt was alright. But, then they were pulling into a makeshift parking lot. Light flickered between a thin wall of trees, darting like fireflies as the boughs waved in a slight breeze. She was dragged from the cab of the truck and dropped unceremoniously in the dirt, landing hard on her stomach, coughing as dust rose in a nimbus around her. She watched, dazed and frightened as her assailants moved to the bed of the truck and peeled back the tarp just as another car pulled up. She heard the doors slam and the crunch of footsteps on gravel before someone, she never found out who, took it upon themselves to deliver a harsh kick to her midsection. All the breath rushed from her body and she curled into a fetal position as she tried to get it back. She heard them laughing. Someone fisted a hand in her hair and jerked her head back so she could watch what they were doing. She felt the cold bite of steel as a knife was pressed to her exposed throat and she was told again to remain silent.

It was all she could do to keep from sobbing, screaming as she saw Kurt lifted from the bed of the truck, limp as a rag doll, head lolling unpleasantly. It was horrible to watch, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She felt one of them haul her to her feet and was shoved along behind the broad shouldered young man who carried Kurt under his arm. Ivy swallowed hard, staring numbly as they drew near a group of old wagons with their fronts fitted with bars like some macabre cage. She knew what was coming, but still couldn’t believe what she was seeing when Kurt was tossed into one, the loud click of a lock seeming to cement it as reality in her mind. Though she barely had time to consider this as she was thrown roughly to the ground once more. This time she landed on her back, and the sickening crack of bone in her wrist made her stomach lurch threateningly. Numbing cold pain shot up her right arm and this time she did scream, tears leaking down her cheeks.

She suddenly found herself pinned under an impressive weight, the pain in her wrist only increasing as the largest and apparent leader of the young football players knelt on her, one leg on either side of her as he almost sat on her chest. She heard the low mumblings and eager chuckles from his twisted friends, but couldn’t make out any words past the rushing of blood in her ears and her own frightened inner monologue. She couldn’t breath beneath him, her wrist felt as if it was on fire. She was going to die. It was as if her thoughts were on loop as he unzipped his fly and fisted one hand in her hair. So this was how it would end, with her reduced to a plaything while the only man who had ever treated her with respect was locked up like an animal?

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Short I know, But I'm getting ready to take a trip, so I may not be posting for the next two weeks. ~~Athlea Kelly