It lightly snowed, covering the late night-goers in sheen of wet and white yet they paid no attention to it as they continue on their high; except for one.
One of the people, neither drunk nor high in the clouds as her friends ran for her life; she slipped onto the hard tarmac that formed the roads and streets, panting heavily while trying her hardest to get away from the rowdy noises following her through the snow and crowds. Her arms held onto the remains of her ripped blouse, her only protection against the setting chill and the drunken perverts.
Her tears ran down, whether from the force she was running, or the cold fear that had encapsulated her she didn’t know. Her instincts were the only thing that kept her body moving, commanding her to run and hide.
The bright lights of headlamps guided her through the dark whiteness; snow falling harder against her body, making her bones feel numb, almost brittle with every step. The loud shouts and thunderous claps of running steps chasing after her made her scream, even as she ran through the still park.
It was gloomier here than on the high street, but she didn’t care; it would be easier for her to hide from the beasts chasing her. The trees lined either side of the path, once so full of life were bars, trapping the poor girl from running off the path and kept her heading to the old bridge. She didn’t care that her footsteps were prominent in the fresh snow, she wanted to hide away from the drunken men. Slipping down the bank and under the bridge, she huddled against the damp, cold wall; she ducked her head to her chest and prayed that she would not be found.
She shivered as heavy footsteps over the bridge echoed underneath no more than a minute later; they stumbled everywhere as they looked around for any sign of her.
“Aww, shit she ain’t here” a grunting voice close to the edge of the bridge.
“Fuuuuuuuuck! I really wanted some pussy t‘night” replied a giggly voice soon followed by boisterous laughter in agreement.
“Thish is borin hic letsh get goes” another hiccupped as the laughter died down a bit before it was joined in with loud chanting.
“Hang on – I need a piss” the last one shouted before she heard the scratching sound of a zipper and feet slipping down the embankment.
The crunching of frozen grass came closer to her hiding spot – clearly luck was not with her on this occasion. She felt the warmth of the other body standing next to her, and a small whimper barely left her lips as she prepared herself for the worst before a wet sensation stained her arm…
She shifted and watched as one of the drunken beasts who had been chasing after her pissed himself onto her side; his hand wrapped tightly around his cock to aim away from his clothes and feet, while he simply stared at the bridge top.
“Hurry the fuck up!” came the grunting voice from before.
“Almost done!!” cried the man childish slur as he tucked himself away and zipped up.
He spat down onto the girls head unknowingly and crawled himself up the slippery bank, to join in with the boisterous chanting of his friends.
It was hours before she could move herself from under the bridge. She could still hear the faint chanting. She moved herself slowly while feeling the stickiness of urine roll down her arm and slowly began to freeze from the cold air.
She lifted her head to stare at the opposite side of the bridge, eyes that were once crystallised amber, now void of any such colour or emotion as she stared on. She took in deep breaths, inhaling the fumes from the freezing liquid in her dark hair as well as on her arm; she cringed in disgust and shame: shame for not being able to stand up for herself: shame for running and hiding like a scared child.
She uncurled from her ball and leaned against the wall, her limbs lying on the cold ground. She didn’t care that her torn top was left open to reveal a broken strapped bra; she just stared, watching the steam of her breath release into the air.
She wailed; louder than the men had shouted after her as she sat there in piss, pigeon shit and the few flakes of snow with tears joining the cocktail. She couldn’t care how her cries echoed into the sky, carried by snow and wind for anyone to hear.
Her ear-splitting cries dwindled into sniffles. She felt her snot and tear tracks harden against her skin as she hesitantly brought herself to stand; Leaning against the bridge side, she made her way back out into the light snow storm that continued to fall. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep some warmth as she moved out a little further.
She reached to her skirt, looking for her phone. She needed to get home; the sooner she was in the warmth the better.
She tried to feel for a solid block that would be her phone, only for there to be none. She clambered up the embankment, the same one that the man climbed with ease, and searched along the bridge, hoping that her phone remained undamaged from the men’s feet
The crunch underneath her foot made her stop and hope that it was just snow and ice underneath her foot – maybe a can that was left behind by one of those men. She kneeled down, and wiped some of the snow from the corpse of her phone.
The girl sighed, feeling another barrage of tears begin to form, she wrapped her arms around herself once again to keep her modesty and warmth as she slowly started walking through the frozen park.
She wasn’t sure whether to be enraptured by the beauty that the ice made everything look or terrified by how the trees bent down from the weight strain, claws ready to grab her and take her. She stared at the small clock tower as she reached the park centre; though ice has covered a majority, but she could just make out the time. She squeezed her eyes as a blast of snow and hails the size of ping balls forced through her body, blinding her.
Squinting through the snow and hail that pelted her body to see a figure stand before her. This figure wore a white furred coat that appeared to stick to the figure like another skin; she was sure that there was more than one set of eyes watching her as the sound of clicking heels echoed into the air. The snow blew wider causing her to shield her eyes from the ferocity.
She looked up only to stare into ice cold grey as they stared into her soul. The women before her, she immediately decided, was beautiful with her pure white skin, and pale lips tinted blue with the cold that had the barest hint of a smile. She wanted to step away from her in fear of tainting such beauty, were it not for the hypnotic stare, or the cold steel that was pressing into each of corner of mouth.
Red tainted the snow.
Two boys shouted down the high street; though they had already been kicked out of two clubs that night they were determined to find other places to get pissed. To onlookers, the hooligans were too loud as they constantly chanted out songs with their arms interlinked with each other.
They wobbled down the road, their linking arms now showing to be the only thing to be holding them steady; they shouted out profanities at anything that passed them by – whether it was a car, a taxi driver on his break or even different groups of near or equally drunk people.
“Fuuuuck man! I ne…. need some pussy” cried Damon, throwing his head back into the sky
“Yeaaaaa. Wh... what about that one girl” Stephan laughed, leaning his head against Damon.
“y’know - the one we met earlier!!” he heckled; slipping on a patch of ice that sent nearly sent them all down to the road.
“Oh HER!! Yea she was fit man! Hey - maybe she’s still in the park!”
“Lesh go see” both started running down the way to the park once more.
There was more snow blanketing the ground, thicker than the last time they were here as well; trees were bent over from the strain of the ice that clung for dear life onto its fingers, whilst others that could not bear it cracked and smashed on top of the pathway, the ice glittering from the dim light of the path lamps.
Both took steady steps through the park, sticking to the snowy patches of the path as they made their return trip to the bridge: the last place they had seen the girl before she disappeared.
“Look man, there she is!”
Stephan looked towards the bridge and look upon the black, damp hair of a girl. He smirked over to Damon as they made their way towards her, being as quiet as possible regardless of the ice that cracked against their weight.
They both stood over her, looking her over, seeing the same shirt that Damon had torn from the first time her grabbed her at the club and immediately knew it was her; her head was ducked down, hair acting as a curtain to hide away her face. But he didn’t care, even as he kneeled down before her.
“Hey babe, remember us?” Stephan asked, placing his hand onto her knee and slowly moved it down towards her pelvis
The girl’s head rose to stare at Stephan; bloodshot amber eyes stared into his own. Despite the scarf that covered her mouth, both boys were enraptured by the beautiful face that was before them that Stephan didn’t feel the cold hands touch his cheek.
“AM I PRETTY?” The silent whisper was muffled behind the girl’s scarf, while her eyes stared into his own, almost begging for his answer.
“Of course you are, darlin’, why else would we be here?”
One of the hands on his face was removed; a finger grasped faintly onto the rim of the scarf, and slowly tugged down the piece of material.
A scream boomed out into the still night with running steps echoing following, while Stephan remained wide-eyed kneeling before her, feeling the cold steel of a blade being held against his throat.
Blood stain lips, now revealed, smiled widely and Nate could do nothing but stare as the mouth widened further, blood flooding over already dried stains as ripped muscle was separated revealing a sharp row of teeth.