Helena twisted her naked body around, the flesh of back rubbing against the rusted and torn metal top of the vent she had holed up in. It had finished disintegrating the few threads that had once been her tunic hours ago. Her left arm was caught under her bulging belly but her right had just enough space to knock the metal grate that hid her from view. It rattled loudly as it hit the sidewalk. She braced her short legs against the side of the vent and slowly pushed, squeezing herself out like toothpaste out of its tube and oozing onto the street. She rested for a moment on the ground, her back smarting where the ragged edge of the vent had scratched her back bloody.
“Gotta move,” she thought and stood up fighting the weakness that had come over her. She needed to find food fast, and something to wear. There were many perverts roaming the streets after dark who would take her age as enticement and her nudity as consent. She had seen what happened to girls older than her when they went to these men in hope that they would give them something to eat.
“Psst!” she stopped and looked around her ready to run. She would already be running if only the nausea were not still there. Then she noticed him, a dirty old hobo with teeth like fat splinters and a beard covered in his own mucus. Underfed as she was, this man could never chase her.
“What do you want?” she said roughly but as quietly as she could.
“The English are coming,” he barked and started laughing and choking. She looked at him in disgust, shook her head and kept going. She heard a thump and turned around again. The old hobo was lying with his face in a puddle and wasn’t moving. She went back and kicked him. He still didn’t move. With a shrug, she relieved him of his blanket and wrapped it around herself. It was so close to the color of the sidewalk that it was almost camouflage.
“Hey muffin, where you going?” this time she did run, her short legs getting caught in the blanket which she refused to throw away. No one who called her “muffin” could be trusted. She felt herself being grabbed by the middle and lifted. She kicked but did not scream, more than likely she would only attract more men in search of some seven year old to play with. She felt her heel connect with something semi-hard and heard him curse in a foreign language. She kicked harder hoping to hit the same spot again as she felt fingers crawling up her legs. This bastard pig was strong! She did not have a chance but she’d eat her own tongue before she let him get between her legs.
She did not know what happened. She was suddenly flying through the air then hit the wall head on. She stood up before she could even see straight again and started jogging away at her new top speed.
“Ho there!,” she cursed as she was again lifted up in the air, “In you go, thing.” She was tossed into the back of the car.
“Damn! Hey man, whatcha put back there? Smells like the crapper!” the man in the passenger sit said. She had a few choice words for him.
“I think it’s human,” the other one said as he got behind the wheel, “I’m gonna suggest they dunk her in a vat of Acid, don’t see how they’re gonna peel off the layer of crap any other way. Here, man, clean up my stick will ya?”
“Awh dawg! Stace washed my uniform yesterday! What I’m I gonna tell her when I show up with blood all over me?”
Great, she’d been caught by cops. A quick look told Helena this was one of the newer cars, without windows at the back. There was no way she could break out. This car was secure enough to be a bank.
“Gotta move,” she thought and stood up fighting the weakness that had come over her. She needed to find food fast, and something to wear. There were many perverts roaming the streets after dark who would take her age as enticement and her nudity as consent. She had seen what happened to girls older than her when they went to these men in hope that they would give them something to eat.
“Psst!” she stopped and looked around her ready to run. She would already be running if only the nausea were not still there. Then she noticed him, a dirty old hobo with teeth like fat splinters and a beard covered in his own mucus. Underfed as she was, this man could never chase her.
“What do you want?” she said roughly but as quietly as she could.
“The English are coming,” he barked and started laughing and choking. She looked at him in disgust, shook her head and kept going. She heard a thump and turned around again. The old hobo was lying with his face in a puddle and wasn’t moving. She went back and kicked him. He still didn’t move. With a shrug, she relieved him of his blanket and wrapped it around herself. It was so close to the color of the sidewalk that it was almost camouflage.
“Hey muffin, where you going?” this time she did run, her short legs getting caught in the blanket which she refused to throw away. No one who called her “muffin” could be trusted. She felt herself being grabbed by the middle and lifted. She kicked but did not scream, more than likely she would only attract more men in search of some seven year old to play with. She felt her heel connect with something semi-hard and heard him curse in a foreign language. She kicked harder hoping to hit the same spot again as she felt fingers crawling up her legs. This bastard pig was strong! She did not have a chance but she’d eat her own tongue before she let him get between her legs.
She did not know what happened. She was suddenly flying through the air then hit the wall head on. She stood up before she could even see straight again and started jogging away at her new top speed.
“Ho there!,” she cursed as she was again lifted up in the air, “In you go, thing.” She was tossed into the back of the car.
“Damn! Hey man, whatcha put back there? Smells like the crapper!” the man in the passenger sit said. She had a few choice words for him.
“I think it’s human,” the other one said as he got behind the wheel, “I’m gonna suggest they dunk her in a vat of Acid, don’t see how they’re gonna peel off the layer of crap any other way. Here, man, clean up my stick will ya?”
“Awh dawg! Stace washed my uniform yesterday! What I’m I gonna tell her when I show up with blood all over me?”
Great, she’d been caught by cops. A quick look told Helena this was one of the newer cars, without windows at the back. There was no way she could break out. This car was secure enough to be a bank.
