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Dec. 21st, 2006 09:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
twiststhebladeOne alley in Old Town is much like another. High, wet walls enclosing narrow streets, empty windows staring like blind eyes, uncaring, over the events below. The odd flicker of neon reflecting mirrored off the slick surfaces, adding garish highlights. Yellow pools of sodium lights, a perhaps surprisingly large number of the streetlamps un-broken, burning brightly in the night.
This particular alley is clean of trash, dirt swept away by the rain, litter cleared away. The girls will not tolerate their territory to be filthy. Human trash, though - the alley is visited by that tonight. A pair of men - boys, really, drunk and confident, breath steaming in the cool air, have a whore backed up against a wall. One of them is whispering in her ear, hand on her shoulder keeping her still, while the other leans against a lampost, grinning, all machismo and bravado and white teeth.
The whore shakes her head, and starts to slip out of the man's grip. He snarls, and slams her back against the wall, eyes hot and wet and angry. The whore's eyes, by contrast, are almost pitying, even as he back-hands her across the face, snapping her head sideways.
This is where it all goes wrong.
There is a disturbance in the air, rain seeming to fall around a patch of space, defining it for a moment not by what is there but by what is not, until the space is filled by two bodies.
The whore's eyes widen, as she looks over the man's shoulder.
This particular alley is clean of trash, dirt swept away by the rain, litter cleared away. The girls will not tolerate their territory to be filthy. Human trash, though - the alley is visited by that tonight. A pair of men - boys, really, drunk and confident, breath steaming in the cool air, have a whore backed up against a wall. One of them is whispering in her ear, hand on her shoulder keeping her still, while the other leans against a lampost, grinning, all machismo and bravado and white teeth.
The whore shakes her head, and starts to slip out of the man's grip. He snarls, and slams her back against the wall, eyes hot and wet and angry. The whore's eyes, by contrast, are almost pitying, even as he back-hands her across the face, snapping her head sideways.
This is where it all goes wrong.
There is a disturbance in the air, rain seeming to fall around a patch of space, defining it for a moment not by what is there but by what is not, until the space is filled by two bodies.
The whore's eyes widen, as she looks over the man's shoulder.
