Chapter Text
Of all the places you chose to go, of all the places to buy chocolate milk you had chosen the mini-mart on Second. Why had you chosen the mini-mart on Second? It was close, that's why. Closest to you. Closest to your apartment. It was right there.
Being nineteen years old and having no other priors but having the mass craving for chocolate milk, you had gone out. Which is what put you in the oh so odd spot you were in. You were holding a gallon of chocolate milk in one hand while you waited behind an old woman at the counter. Everytime you glanced behind you, some guy, not much older than you, if anything he was younger, was staring at you.
You knew this because you used the mini-mart mirror on the wall. It was circular and used to keep an eye on all costumers at all times. And you were using it to keep yourself safe. You didn't know him, and if you had it still would've bugged you. But he was in the back looking at the small display of candy. Half of his body was showing on one side and the other half was blocked by the shelf. You swallowed as you waited for the woman before you to count out her pennies.
Home was five minutes away. Five. You just wanted to get your milk, run back home and lock yourself in to continue your marathon of shows. The guy with the bright red hair and bold green eyes had other plans, though. You began by tapping your foot, the condensation rolling off your gallon of milk before dripping onto the floor.
It was rhythmic, almost, as the buzzing from the coolers chimed in. Next, you clenched and unclenched your jaw. You moved your feet within your shoes, wiggling your toes as you taped the bottom of your shoe to the ground a bit faster. You felt a slight pang of relief as the old woman in front of you stopped counting pennies, but it was ripped away from you when she pulled out some nickels. Then you started to turn your head, looking everywhere, at everyone. Mostly at the flame haired boy watching you. He didn't seem to catch that you were watching him in a reverse sense, that was until he looked up to the mirror and you saw a sadistic smirk cross his features that caused your eyes to snap down and stare at the pink cardigan the woman was wearing.
There were small balls of lint littering the back, and some hairs. Cat, you assumed. They were thin, and various colors as the light washed over them. Suddenly, the cashier let out an almost strangled groan, brushing it off as a cough to the older woman.
“Look, we'll just call it even, okay?” The female clerk said, taking all the change under the small ledge before pouring it into the slightly opened register. The old woman smiled as she slowly stepped out and you stepped up, swallowing harshly as you slammed your milk on the counter and the taffy that had found its way into your right hand.
“That'll be $4.79.” She totalled, watching you. You dug around in your pockets, looking for extra change. You put three dollars and fifty cents on the counter, but realized you soon had no more. You were about to get her to take off the taffy when someone leaned against the counter beside you. You didn't even have to look as their voice flooded your ears.
“I'll take care of it.” The flame haired boy said, setting some money on the counter.
“I'm fine, really, thank you – just take off the taffy.” You said, trying to avoid his mercilessly prying gaze. “Please.” You said in a hurried tone.
“I said I'd cover it.” He urged, moving his hand onto the counter as the clerk, Annie, stopped reaching for his money.
“And I said I'm fine, thank you, but I don't need the taffy.” And that's when you heard the door jingle. You barely had time to glance behind you before the first shot went off, by the second Annie, the clerk, had screamed, by the third, you had joined her. By the fourth, everyone else had, by the fifth, the boy beside you was laughing hysterically. Raspy, rough, sadistic. It made you nervous, uneasy, uncomfortable. It was disconcerting and insane.
By the time one scream was silenced by the sixth gunshot, Annie was being dragged from behind the counter. Your chocolate milk lay forgotten on the counter as you scrambled to shield yourself beneath it. The low hanging, gray painted object was barely hanging over your head an extra foot, but you covered your head as another shot went off and chocolate milk sprayed everywhere. You began scrambling away, trying to crawl from the violence before someone slammed their foot on your ankle, causing you to let out a vicious scream and by the almighty powers of whatever being is out there, there was an equally vicious laugh to match it.
You didn't have time to do anything but whimper as you were pulled up by the hair and pressed to someone's chest. You saw a flurry of messed up red hair in your peripheral vision and glanced down to see Annie corned by a large man, a bear of a man.
“Please...” You whispered, your words going unnoticed as his arm stretched over your chest and his hand reached up to wrap loosely around your throat. His other hand was still tangled in your hair, pulling it slightly.
“What's your name?” He whispered in your ear as you ankle was painfully aching. You didn't tell him your name so he kicked his foot out against your ankle, another scream erupting from your lips. “Name!?”
“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)!” You blurted out, tears suddenly streaming from your eyes. You wanted to sob, to take a deep breath and scream, but his hand was tighter around your throat as he pressed you against his chest. The bear of a man turned and looked you over as the red haired boy tilted his head against yours. He yanked your head back a bit, and you saw him sneering.
“Mine.” He hissed, staring at the larger man who frowned slightly before turning back to Annie. He seemed to press you protectively to his front which was sending off alarms in your head, arms, legs, well, your whole damn body. “You're a pretty one, aren't ya?” He asked tauntingly, quickly removing his hand from your throat to move your hair back and away from your face before returning it to your flesh. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, and the sound flooded your ears.
His hand had grown tighter around your throat as you tried to breathe, but the deeper the breath you took, the tighter his grip got. Like a lioness' hold on a zebra, or a dog on an arm, or even a baby on a toy. He laughed darkly in your ear, keeping you as uncomfortably close to him as he could. It was stupid, what happened next. Stupid because it was exactly how it had always been described to you, losing consciousness that is.
Your vision was blurry, then black. You saw nothing, your ears were ringing and after a moment you felt your body go slightly limp and you assumed so did the red haired boy because you felt his grip on your throat falter. You were being dragged, too. And you heard muffled voices, like water was in your ears and you couldn't get it out.
That was the first time he choked you.