The Drifter (Sanguine Hearts Book 2)

5 The Past In The Present**

**s****l Violence**

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS IMAGES OF s****l VIOLENCE. IF YOU FIND THIS CONTENT TRIGGERING, PLEASE SKIP THAT PORTION OF THIS CHAPTER. I WILL DONATE THE START AND THE END OF THAT SCENE.

Another very long day had drawn to a close for Claire as she walked herself home from yet another insane night at the hospital. She had seen more atrocities visited upon the weak and defenseless than any one person should ever have to see in a lifetime of living while working as an E.R. nurse at Mercy General. It was the only hospital that would ever serve the impoverished and suppressed citizens who were unfortunate enough to either be born to the slums or find themselves living there. She volunteered at the crisis center too, trying to help broken and battered women, men and their families recover from the brutality of a boyfriend, husband, wife, or the rare, random stranger. Living with themselves was a true struggle for those men; albeit very few, and women, many who were beaten and abused, mentally, emotionally, physically, and or sexually, every day of the horrible existence that was what they called a life. It was taxing to see their pain, to know that there were people out there who could visit such harm upon women, other men, and children; Especially the children. She just didn’t understand it. She was certain she never would. Not even when she nearly became a victim herself, did she understand the violence reaped upon her.

***WARNING*** Sensitive Content. Some readers may want to skip to the ***ALL CLEAR***

Her walk took her down several dark streets, many of which were not safe to travel in the daylight, let alone in the dark of night. She worked the day shifts to avoid having to walk those mean streets in the cold and dark, but the night nurse had been attacked and no one else was available to take the shift, so she did. She regretted it because it put her on those streets alone in the dark of the night. She was on high alert as she walked. Her only warning was the shuffling of feet and the sound of a broken bottle clattering on the ground. She had no time to mount a defense as she was yanked bodily into the alleyway by the back of her coat. Something was sprayed in her eyes causing them to burn and rendering them useless. She cried out in pain and fear as rough hands grabbed and groped at her body. They slapped her hard, the pain raising an angry welt upon her cheek and bringing the sting of more tears to her burning eyes. She fought the hands as they pulled at her clothes and tore them. Terror rose in her heart as did her scream in her throat and pain all over as her attacker handled her violently, slapping her and snarling at her. She swung her hands flailing blindly only occasionally landing a weak blow against him. His breath was fetid in her nose. Despite her pain, it made her want to retch. Her stomach flipped and turned when he breathed on her. He slapped her and again, tearing yet another scream from her lips. He punched her in her stomach, as her breath rushed from her lungs, her stomach threatened to empty its contents all over him. She heard him grunt when her jacket ripped, and he forced his rough hands over her. She fought, kicked, and flailed until she felt the cold steel of a blade against her throat. Then she froze as her fight or flight response switched instantly to freeze. He violently removed her coat and threw it to the ground.

He put his hand on her breast and squeezed tightly. She whimpered and whined but otherwise could not move. That knife to her throat scared her more than anything. He used the blade to cut her shirt and bra from her chest, so he could touch her skin. His hands felt awful. Hatred for her attacker and herself bubbled in her racing heart. He was rough and cruel. She didn’t dare fight or even scream. He had a knife to her throat he could easily kill her. He probably would when he was done. She wondered why no one came to save her from this horrid fate until she remembered where she was. She cried, and she prayed, tears leaking from her burning eyes. With each passing moment, they burned a little less. He removed the blade from her throat and reached for her belt, unbuckled it, and used the knife to cut the button free from her jeans. He knew what he was after, and he didn’t care whether she wanted to give it to him or not. She cried and begged. Pleaded for him to stop, to let her go, but her words fell on deaf ears and he continued his assault. He yanked her pants down and forced her against the wall with his shoulder.

With her fight or flight response flipped to fight Claire began to fight anew. She kicked, screamed, and threw her elbows and closed fists at him with all her might. She no longer cared that he had a knife, no longer cared that he could kill her. She would rather die than have him violate her in any other way than he already had. He ran the knife over her skin, opening it just under her rib cage, spilling her blood. She screamed but fought on. He punched her, splitting her lips and freeing yet more of her blood and still she fought on. He rained punch after punch down on her body and still, she fought on. Finally, he grabbed her head and slammed it into the wall behind her. She was dazed and confused and became complacent in his hands. He adjusted himself, pinned her body to the wall, and prepared to do as he pleased to her exposed flesh. He would use his knife in her when he was done and kill her.

A little ways away, cast out into the world as it was, Claire’s terror and her attacker’s violence and anger seduced him and drew him to them. He was hungry, and they had exactly what he needed. He felt the energy of the attack, the violence of it, and the terror that it caused in the female. He let them both wash over him. He let the fear go and slowly pulled the energy of the violence in to fill him as he walked directly to its source. His eyes, yellow and crimson from his need, fell upon a scene of mayhem, chaos, and violence. A man was violently handling a weakly struggling, terrified, and bleeding woman. It was clear that she was not in his clutches willingly. Her coat was ripped and torn and cast to the alleyway floor. He was silent as if mute and her cries and pleas seemed to go unnoticed by him as if they fell on his ears unheard. He watched a flash of light reflecting off the blade the man held to her throat and felt her crippling fear consume her. It was eerily familiar to him, too familiar. The man unbuckled the woman’s belt and used the knife to cut away the button of her jeans and then ripped them open, forcing them down to her knees. Her fight and screams were redoubled. He cut her and still, she fought on. She fought him for her very life until he slammed her head into the wall behind her and knocked her senseless.

Her blood scented the air, filling his nose with its enticing smell, and fueling his hunger for blood. Her long and dark hair tumbled loose during the struggle. Memories rushed through his mind. Every sentient being has them. He was no exception. The scene reminded him too much of others he had seen. The scent of blood filling the air, her anguish, pain, and ultimate horror at what she believed would be her fate was so like events in his past he had no choice but to follow the memories when they called. Time shifted, and the buildings twisted and changed as the distant memory filled his mind.

~The cobble was wet and slick from the rain, the air heavily scented with the stinging stench of the horse excrement improperly cleaned from the streets, yet under it, he could taste the sweet aroma of blood, human blood. He followed the taste of violence, anguish, and fear, tracking it to its source, drawn by the allure of it. He found a woman, a man in the process of taking her body. He had beaten her to a state in which she could no longer defend herself and flipped up her heavy skirts.

The man had exposed himself just as he was about to take her, she turned on him, hissing and snarling her bloodied mouth throwing curse after vile curse at him. The man was taken by surprise as a knife materialized in her hand. With one swift motion, she removed his manhood from him. He cried out in pain and terror set in. In her face, he saw every woman he had ever forced to do his bidding. She called their names back to him, her knife slashing him with each name she counted. He stumbled backward, his life’s blood spilling from the cuts she slashed in him, his manhood lay lifeless on the cold and wet cobble and still she stalked him. Her knife dripped. His blood as she came in for yet another pass. His abdomen was ripped to shreds his insides falling out and, yet he lived on to scream. Every stroke of her knife hurt more than the last, he screamed and cried and prayed for the pain to end. It was sheer agony. He wanted to die. He wanted it to end. He begged her to take his life, begged her to end his suffering. She snarled at him as she continued to call off the names of the women he had raped. He begged. He pleaded for his life.

She melted before him, her body simply melted away, and where she once stood with a knife dripping his blood in her hand, stood a man in gentleman’s clothing. Behind him, the woman lay crumpled in the corner where he had left her. The only thing that slicked the cobble was the light rain that had started falling. He reached for his manhood and found it right where it was supposed to be. He patted his stomach. Both it and his clothing were unharmed. He looked again at the gentlemen and felt the heat of shame wash over him. The gentleman likely saw what he was doing to that girl. His eyes spread in horror as the gentleman slowly nodded. ‘I saw. I saw them all.’ The words painfully ripped through his mind. The yellow eyes of the gentleman fell upon him and the weight of his misdeed ripped and tore through his mind. He felt fear and anguish, shame, guilt, and pain tear through his very core. His insides started to hurt ache and burn. He felt as if he was being ripped open from his nether to his groin. His heart raced.

The gentleman was no longer gentle he was no longer standing there. He grabbed the man, forced his hands behind his back, spun him around, and forced him up against the wall of the building. The man tried to cry out as he felt the cold air of the night on his exposed body. He screamed in terror and pain as he felt himself ripped open. The pain was so intense that he didn’t notice the real pain in his neck, didn’t hear his flesh actually ripping there, didn’t hear the slurping sounds of his gentleman rapist or feel the warm trickle of his blood down his neck as it escaped capture. He felt none of the real pain, none of the real damage that was done to his body. He only felt the pain of the gentleman ripping him open and taking from him all that he had taken from every woman he had ever touched. He didn’t feel his life slipping away as his eyes grew heavy, and the pain filled his mind. He slipped from this world screaming in pain and agony, feeling all the shame, he had forced upon his victims. When the gentleman was done, he carelessly let the man’s body fall to the cobble in the gutter filled with sewage and filth where he belonged and turned his mind to the woman.

***ALL CLEAR***

The woman stirred as she woke. She took stock of her body and found it whole, her face and head caused her great pain. She looked about dazed and confused. Her head was spinning. She didn’t know where she was or how she had come to be there. She looked over at the body of the man that had attacked her. She had been attacked. But how then was he over there in the gutter? Who was standing between her and the man who had attacked her? A gentleman? An angel? She moaned. The mysterious figure did not turn at the sound of her moving. He didn’t move at all.

He felt a small warm hand upon his shoulder. Her mind came open to him at her touch. “Sir, you saved me.” He nodded, but neither spoke nor turned to her. He ran his sleeve over his mouth and willed her to see the man dressed lying peacefully in the gutter. Her beautifully terrifying truth came to him and a new game came to mind. Yes, she would do nicely. He cleared his mind and turned deep brown eyes to her. He nodded again. “Thank you, sir. She curtsied for him and winced in pain. “Thank you for saving me from a horrid fate. May I know your name that I may repay you?” ‘Mary’ He picked her name from her open mind. His eyes locked on her as he struggled to remember what he was called by. He nodded and allowed her to slip her arm in his.

The sound felt odd upon his tongue. How long had it been since he had spoken? ’Ezzehrha.’

“Ezra.” She numbly said as precisely what he had saved her from started to take shape in her mind. She smiled her gratitude to him, her guardian angel. He walked beside her until they were once again in the well-lit part of town.

He left her standing underneath the street lamp. ‘Return to your dwelling. Go now. Someone approaches’ He turned to her, nodded, and slipped away into the mists. Looking at the night sky dazed and confused, wondering where she was and how she came to be there. ‘Ezra.’ Was the only thought that occupied her mind. ~

His worldview shifted again as the woman’s scream pierced the veil between the past and the present. He pushed out wave after wave of negative energy focused on the foul man that sought to rape and murder the woman.