Chapter 3 Do your worse

Ear deafening laughter that almost blocked her eardrum ripped through the dark night.

"You can't make anything out of me." She said, struggling to gather her wits. "I have no money. I've legitimately been declared penniless. I could give you all my debit cards if you want. Please, let me go." She panicked. Panicking in the face of death wasn't the bravest action, but that was all she'd got.

She was scared to her bone marrows. These creeps could literally do anything to her and go scot free. Worst. She wouldn't survive what they had intended for her.

She hated this vulnerable feeling coursing through her veins.

One of the thugs came a litter closer to her and a rip sound went. She found her shirt in halves, buttons flying to the floor, exposing her B-cup red bra. His breathe smelled like soured milk when he spoke, "fvck your money."

She heard another rip sound. The pieces of her shirt flew away from her body with the impending wind. "fvck what the boss wants. We are all getting a piece of your pussy. Isn't what we want obvious?"

Only her bra covered her tits from their aggressive eyes. Thank heavens she wore a bra today.

Rave fought for composure. She was used to teasing men and having them around; have them appreciate her body while she taunted them. But sex was sacred to her. Maybe that was the reason she was still a virgin at twenty-three. She loved Bob all the more when he agreed to wait till they got married to go all the way through. Never in her life had she imagined her first time to be in the street in the middle of the night, gang raped by uncircumcised thugs.

But she wasn't about to go down without a fight.

"Not at all clear to me. But if I got what you mean correctly, you could only have what you lust for over my dead body," she said. "Go on. Use that gun. Shoot me. Then you could only do all those wicked things you wish to my corpse. To a dead-numb-helpless-lady. Not me. Not while I'm still breathing. Isn't my offer clear?" she added as she flexed her arms and positioned both her hands and legs in a fighting posture.

Combat had always been her weak point... It was a fact. She was aware of it.

The men laughed.

"She's got a smart mouth, I can't fathom the height of pure bliss those lips will bring me when my ten-inch anaconda thrust in and out of her." A deep voice bragged. "Have it your way then, doll."

Nine hefty armed men against one sharp-tongued unarmed woman.

Hilarious match!

A sharp kick landed on her calf from behind.

She discovered herself on the floor.

She quickly stood up, but was instantly stopped by a heavy blow that banged her chin. Blood oozed out from her mouth. She spat it at one of the men's face.

She had just sprinkle gasoline in a wild-fire.

Punches upon kicks rained all over her body until she was on the floor again. She curled up and shielded her head with her hands.

Blows upon thumps swept her.

She closed her eyes. She winced, whimpered but she refused to cry aloud. All the tears were piling up in her throat. Her whole body was throbbing, arching, and sore. Yet, the blows never seized to rain. She was literally being gutted alive.

Zing. Pow. Zing. Kapow.

She squeezed her eyes tight, ready to embrace the bullets.

A gunshot went off. Another went again. The punching halted. She assumed she heard the hooligans hurriedly stepping away from her.

She heard another gunshot. She tried to welcome the bullet and pain but felt nothing.

When everywhere calmed down, large hands wrapped a piece of warm jacket around her cold bare skin and scooped her off the ground. Able arms bore her weight. She made a lame struggled to run away.

"Easy," The monotone, male tone voice cautioned.

She wanted to fight, but strength failed her. She gave in to weakness and stayed still while he carried her away from the bad people. She dared to look behind her. The bad people were no harm to her now. That was because they were all merely lifeless bodies.

The man gently shoved her in the passenger's seat.

When he got into the car, she curled up like a ball, her entire body arching. Not believing her luck, she had to ask, "A-a-am I my, you know, dea-dead?"

Her savior stranger mutely drove the car away.

Comforting and worrying silence welcomed and responded to her ears for what seemed like ages. She opened her eyes and peeked through the window. She caught a glimpse of a blazing car. Her eyes were heavy and gradually began to glue together.

"You're not far from death." She faintly heard him say before darkness welcomed her eyes in a deep sleep.