The Final Female

Chapter Sixteen

"Tell me about it."

"Zee..."

"I need to know. Just... Just tell me."

"He found me a couple years ago. It was my mistake. I went into an old bar looking for food. I didn't realise it was the bar he used to own and had been living in. He was passed out by the bar counter and I went to leave the second I noticed him but he had a friend there that was coming to see him and collided with me in the entrance..."

"Look who we have here!" the beer bellied man I soon would know as Lincoln bellowed in an effort to wake up the man at the counter.

The man stumbled up from the bar stool and placed both hands on my shoulders as he leaned into my face.

"Now lad! You best not be coming to steal my liquor are ya?" His beer breath was putrid.

I shook my head frantically as I didn't want to reveal my girlish voice.

"What? Are ya mute? Answer me boy."

"Just looking for food." I attempted.

"Well come in and grab it then?" he sneered with a gleam behind his eye.

"I'm fine. I'll be on my way." I tried again.

"Mmmm. No you won't... Lassie." He said as he ripped the hood from scalp. I screamed as I flailed against his friends grip but the drunken bartender just laughed and grabbed me round the shoulders in a tight but casual embrace.

"Look lass," he said as he forcefully led me further into the bar and motioned for his friend to close the door, "We can help each other out you and I. You look hungry. I bet you are so hungry. Let's get you some food yeh? And we can find something for you to do in return later yeh? Sound like a deal." He was rambling drunkenly, yet his grip was iron and sober.

"Really I'm ok. My Dad's outside. Just got to get back to him. He will probably come in here soon." I lied as I tried to squirm away. Dad had died months ago. Zander was gone and probably dead. No one was coming for me.

"Ah! Is he now? Well that's ok. My friend Lincoln will look after your Dad just fine. I'm sure your Dad would appreciate you having a man like me looking after you." We were going down stairs now with candles littered around in an attempt for light.

This is bad. This is really really freaking bad.

"I really should be going."

We kept walking.

"Please let me go." I tried again.

We kept walking.

"Let me fucking go!" I shouted as I attempted to dig my heels into the steps and manoeuvre under his arm. I stamped on his foot and got my arm free by jabbing it into his side. As I ran up the stairs he grabbed my ankle and my face met the corner of the railing. 

"Now Lass, that is no way to speak to a gentleman. We could have been civilised. But now you have made me angry." He whispers in my ear as his full body weight pins me to the stairs. I scream as he flips me round and slings me over his shoulder, not caring when my head hits the wall with a smack leaving blood dripping into my eyes. 

My vision is hazy as my struggle depletes. Bars cloud my vision as I'm placed in a room with wine bottles caking the walls and locks on the door. I recognise the smell as a dirtier version of my Grandad's old wine cellar. 

I vaguely take in the new feeling of cold concrete on my once jean clad thighs. 

I don't really comprehend the next few moments. I think I remember screaming. I can't remember if it was from me or not.