Chloe slid into the subway cab and moved down as far as she could get away from everyone else.
There’d been a car accident on her usual bus route home and flagging a cab down would be hopeless or extortionate so she opted for the lesser of two evils. Subway.
It was cramped, smelly, and busy but she found herself a nice corner to tuck into until she found her stop, leaning against an advertisement for a new Dental practice downtown.
She pulled the collar of her mac up, and tried to block out the inquisitive eyes on the cab.
It was clear that she didn’t take the subway very often from her stance, her choice of attire, her choice of shoes, her general physicality screamed ‘out of comfort zone’. But it didn’t matter.
Soon she’d be off the cab and home where she could spend the evening catching up on her reading.
Her stop came just as she was getting lulled into a comfort by the rocking of the cab. She slipped between an elderly Jewish man who was having trouble breathing and a middle aged black woman who was singing to herself.
Walking through the station, she waved her pass against the card reader on exit and made her way to the street, hoping the traffic had mostly dispersed so she could get home quickly.
Unknown to her, she had a shadow.
A man, bearded, matted hair, late 30′s who held a switch blade in his pocket. He’d eyed her up as having some cash on her and easy prey.
She walked at her usual pace, thinking about what she would first do when she got in for the evening when he quickly grabbed her around the mouth and pulled her into a dark alleyway, pushing the switchblade against her ribs.
“...scream bitch, and you’re gonna get this.”
Chloe’s eyes were wide, but they weren’t afraid. They should have been, but they weren’t.
“...drop your purse.” he growled against her ear.
Chloe obeyed immediately. The hot breath made her cringe with revulsion, but she endured it.
He thought it was his lucky day. No struggle. This bitch was more afraid than he thought.
“Bitch is gonna piss her pants...” he chuckled almost feverishly as he reached to grab it, his hand against her back.
He grabbed it, going through it as he pushed her against the wall.
Chloe felt the grimy kiss of the wall against her cheek. But her mouth was free.
“...Please don’t hurt me...” she whispered.
The man faltered, his nerve shaking but he kept a hold of the bag.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” he snarled, grabbing her by the throat and bringing her face to face with him. “Shut up or i’ll rip your throat out and eat it.”
His breath smelled like he hadn’t been near a toothbrush in at least six months, and his beard was matted with vomit, food, and God knows what else.
Because now, she had his eyes.
She tilted her head, reaching out with her mind and feeling the mind barely 6 inches from her.
It was sloppy, malleable, like plasticine. It was ennuied and lethargied by drug abuse and wouldn’t take much pushing to go in the right direction.
This was going to be too much fun.
“...Look at me.” she began.
His yellow streaked, brown eyes met her green eyes and in that moment, his fate was sealed.
His hand released its grip on her neck immediately, his hand dropping to his side.
“...Put my bag down, and put anything you’ve taken back inside it...” she continued, tending to the bruising on her neck with her gloved fingers.
He replaced her money, and her bank card from his tattered pocket, his eyes locked on hers.
Her eyes grew a shade lighter as she smiled at him.
“...and push it deep into your stomach.”
Her eyes grew a shade lighter. They were no longer green, but a glimmering yellow.
“...Don’t make it worse for yourself.”
With shaking, uncertain hands, he rotated the direction of the blade so that it was held in front of his bloated belly, shaking as though about to commit Seppuku.
“...Do it.” she commanded, an edge of aggression in her voice.
The man plunged his blade into his stomach and cried out in agony.
“Shush. Nobody cares you’re dying. You’re worthless and you’ll die that way. Now try not to bleed everywhere. The police are busy enough without spraying your diseased blood off the pavement...”
She picked up her bag as he sunk to the floor. His eyes locked on hers.
She stayed there, staring at him until the junkie’s eyes closed and he was dead.
She blinked, holding her forehead as her eyes faded back into a natural green and stepped out of the alleyway, adjusted her coat before moving on.
Alleyways were dangerous places in this city.
