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(I would strongly suggest that death-riot and Guardian-Darkras not read this... I doubt either of you will listen to me but its just a warning. This is not a happy story. It does not have a sweet ending. It is a nightmare I had a few days ago that I've written as a story in hopes of getting it out of my mind. For sake of not disturbing anyone who read this too much, I changed a few details because just thinking about putting them down made me feel sick... Read at your own risk)

A barely audible scream broke the thick silence of the night, followed by the sound of a slap. Alone in a bedroom, two males struggled on the cold floor- one pinning the other down in an attempt to subdue him. The male pinned to the floor thrashed violently in an attempt at getting free. Tears streamed down his face as more nearly silent screams erupted from his thrashing frame. In response, the male above him laughed darkly and gave him another firm slap to the face, causing his already reddened cheek to swell slightly from the force of the blow. Profound, sickening words rained from the mouth of the stronger male as he began to strike his victim repeatedly. The assault started with slaps to the face, move on to strong punches to the chest and abdomen, and ended with him ripping away his trembling victims shirt. He beat the male beneath him into submission then proceeded to start stripping him down. Shirt and pants were removed from the trembling and sobbing boy, who weakly pleaded for mercy. The stronger male simply laughed and used his victims pathetic whimpers to further fuel the drive of his sick, twisted actions. He murmured sickening promises next to the boys ear, and touched places that he knew his victim did not want to be touched. The boy sobbed and whimpered the words "Please stop" repeatedly, but his assailant only chuckled and proceeded to take the next, sickening step of his corrupt actions.

However, before he could go any further, something collided with the side of his face and he was shoved off of the trembling boy beneath him. In an instant the male was on his feet clutching his injured face, and he shifted his gaze to glare at whomever had attacked him. Someone he didn't know was standing protectively in front of his intended victim, but thanks to her size he wasn't the slightest bit intimidated by her. She was shorter than him- hell, she was shorter than the boy he'd been attacking. Her skin was pale, he could tell simply by looking at her that she was exhausted. She was small, and she was weak. She was in no way fit to be standing up to him, and he knew it. Without so much as a warning he stepped forward and shoved her backwards, causing her to trip over the boy trembling on the ground. She stumbled and fell, but landed on her hands and arse instead of her head as he had hoped she would. Just as suddenly as he'd pushed her, she jumped off of the ground to stand protectively in front of the boy again, and this time the boy managed to regain enough of his composure to scramble away from them out of fear. He snatched his clothing as he went, and he hastily redressed himself upon making it to the bed. While he did that, the male and the woman that had appeared out of nowhere to step between them continued to duke it out.

Despite her disadvantages, the woman refused to move from between the male and his victim. She stood her ground and glared at him, despite knowing that it would only take one good blow from him to render her without defense. He knew it to, so he didn't waste time trying to land a decent hit. He threw punches aimed primarily at her face, and despite his speed and skill he never really managed to hit her. He didn't realize that she had one major advantage over him- it was dark in that room. He didn't know that she spent more time honing her eyes and ears in darkness than she did in light. The lack of illumination made it difficult for him to see, so his aim was never as accurate as it would have been in the day. That paired with her heightened senses in the dark made it very difficult for him to hit her. Still, he managed to land one blow. He struck her in the shoulder and knocked her back- she stumbled over her own feet and fell partially onto the bed. He immediately leapt at her and pinned her beneath him, and he began to strike her body mercilessly. She turned to face the side so that he couldn't hit the left side of her face- she let him punch her right cheek, jaw, and eye. That was when the frightened boy found it within him to intervene. He rushed into the males side and knocked him off of the defenseless woman he'd been beating.

They wrestled on the ground while she slowly recovered from the shock of the repeated blows she'd endured, and once she'd regained her senses she forced herself off of the bed and she stumbled over to them. Thanks to her injuries and the poor lighting, she had a difficult time figuring out which of them was the boy she intended on protecting, and which was the male she'd come to attack. When her vision managed to focus itself enough for her to tell the pair apart, she forced them apart and pulled the boy she intended on protecting back to his feet. That became a difficult task though- the fear he'd had had turned into rage. He was deadset on fighting the male with all he was worth, and he was indeed stronger than she was. In the end it took her stepping in front of the struggling boy and pressing the full of her body against his chest to get him to step back- but he still responded as if ready to rip someones throat out. She continued to push him back until she felt he'd pressed against a wall, then she stepped back herself and turned around to face the male that had nearly beaten her unconscious. If there had been light in the room, she would have been able to see the blood running from his broken nose, but he would have been in quite a shock. He'd struck her repeatedly in the face and yet she bore no bruise nor mark- it was as if he hadn't hit her at all. Pity their wasn't enough light in the room for this revelation to be made.

Again, it became a dangerous dance of strike or be struck for she and the male, except this time she muttered things to herself, and she occasionally made a bold move and move it to kick at him. One of her kicks resulted in the middle of her lower leg smashing into his- the pain struck both of them but she didn't even limp. He, on the other hand, could not put his weight on his injured leg. So, their dance continued with him struggling to stay standing and her continuing to talk to herself. She eventually spoke loud enough for those in the room to hear her. The words were simple. They were phrases- rhymes- that she repeated over and over again like a mantra as if she expected them to do something. As for what she was saying exactly, it seemed to be about a bird killing someone so that they wouldn't continue to fight. Then, she made a move that no one would have been expecting. She jumped at the male and tackled him- had it not been for the injury on his leg he would have been able to keep from falling, but thanks to that and her unexpected movement, he was shoved to the ground. Before he had a chance to react she bit him, hard. She put the side of his hand in her mouth and bit until she tasted blood and heard the sound of something crunch. He screamed and recoiled in pain and he yanked his hand out of her mouth, which tore his flesh open further. Then he retaliated by swinging his good hand at her to smack the right side of her face once again- it wouldn't have taken a genius to know that she would respond by grabbing his other hand and biting that one as well.

He lurched and knocked her off of him, which further damaged his hands. He pushed himself back to his feet, which made him leave bloodied handprints on the floor. She on the other hand, didn't bother to get up. She just lied seemingly comfortably on her back, on the floor, with her knees to her chest, as she waited for him to go after her again. Thanks to his rage, he did. He approached her as if ready to start kicking her with his bad leg, but as soon as he was within reach he found out why she'd decided to lie on her back. So she could kick him. Both her legs shot up like springs and her bare feet struck him in his lower abdomen. He hunched over and gasped for breath, only to get kicked in the face when she shoved her legs towards him again. That kick made him fall onto his stomach- she rolled over to avoided getting crushed under him, then she climbed on his back and took a fistful of his hair in her hand. Then, she put her mouth next to his ear and she snarled a threat- she kept her voice quiet so that the boy wouldn't be able to hear what she was saying. Then, she dropped his head and moved off his back. He forced himself off the ground and bolted out of the room as quickly as he could given the injuries he'd suffered. Mild as they were, they were painful- he would limp and have stomach pain for days. Not to mention his broken nose, among other facial injuries. As soon as he was out the door, she turned her attention to the boy. He was standing with his back against the wall and his eyes on her. So many emotions struggled to take over his expression. Fear, confusion, shock, anger. Eventually a shy smile crossed his features, and she responded to it by approaching him and holding her hand out for him to take.

He took it hesitantly, and she gently pulled him away from the wall and led him back to his bed. She sat down and convinced him to sit next to her, and they sat in silence staring at one another for a while. This was their first meeting after all- in person at least. He didn't have to ask her her name to know who she was. She was a woman he'd been speaking to over the internet- one of a handful he'd trusted with secrets he refused to tell others. He knew her face and voice because she'd put some pictures and videos of herself up for him, because she wanted him to know what she looked and sounded like. She'd been thousands of miles away from him the last he'd spoken to her, and she never gave the slightest clue of being on her way to meet him when he'd been online with her earlier that day. In the end though, he didn't care how she got there, he just knew she was there and that she should not have been. If he had been able to speak, he would have tried to convince her to leave, because he feared what would happen if she was discovered there. She seemed to notice his distress, and so she gave him a sad looking smile and moved as if to hug him goodbye. He flinched and backed away from her when she did this, and so she slowly lowered her arms and rose from the bed. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and she tried to give him a happy smile, then she walked towards the door to leave. He sat and watched her with disbelief as she opened the door, only to pause and turn back to him. She gave him another sorrowful smile, and offered him a few bittersweet words, before she stepped out the door and closed it behind her.

As soon as the door closed he jumped out of bed and rushed to the door fearing that someone may spot her. He pulled the door open to look down the hall in hopes of being able to lure her back into his room so that he could have her leave in a more discrete way. However, when he looked down the hall he was surprised to find that she was nowhere in sight. He did notice, however, that there was a red stain on his doorknob. He cast the thought aside and cleaned the knob believing that the male who had attacked him had been the one to leave it there. Then, he cleaned up the rest of the mess that lined the floor. Afterwards, he fixed himself up some, climbed back into bed, and stared at the ceiling. Sleep never overtook him that night, but that was not an unusual circumstance for him. Sometime the following day, he went online in hopes of messaging the woman and asking her a number of questions- but before he had a chance to send her a message, he noticed that she had already sent him one the night before. As soon as he opened the message, he spotted a link to a Youtube video, he followed the link to watch it. The video he saw was simple enough- it consisted of her finally working up the courage to sing him something, and of her reading a few short, sweet poems for him. The end of the video however, bothered him. She began to cry and spoke as if she were saying goodbye to a number of people. He was one of the people she said goodbye too, along with a few close friends, and a pair of people she had chosen as romantic partners. After watching the video, he messaged her hoping to get an explanation for what she had meant by the video- but she never responded.

For three weeks after that, he heard nothing from her or about her from anyone she knew. Until he received a message by someone who had known her closely in the real world. He was sent a link to a news report article, and he read it without hesitation. What was revealed to him through that report, shocked him. The first picture he saw was that of his friend, sitting in a chair facing her bedroom window, with her wrist slit. He read the report and found that she'd drawn a number of symbols and phrases on her chest and clothing using her blood, but no information was given on them. He also found one other key piece of information. She had slit her wrist and killed herself, at home, the same night she'd protected him from his attacker. She'd been thousands of miles away, dead, the very night she'd saved him...

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

(I would strongly suggest that death-riot and Guardian-Darkras not read this... I doubt either of you will listen to me but its just a warning. This is not a happy story. It does not have a sweet ending. It is a nightmare I had a few days ago that I've written as a story in hopes of getting it out of my mind. For sake of not disturbing anyone who read this too much, I changed a few details because just thinking about putting them down made me feel sick... Read at your own risk)

A barely audible scream broke the thick silence of the night, followed by the sound of a slap. Alone in a bedroom, two males struggled on the cold floor- one pinning the other down in an attempt to subdue him. The male pinned to the floor thrashed violently in an attempt at getting free. Tears streamed down his face as more nearly silent screams erupted from his thrashing frame. In response, the male above him laughed darkly and gave him another firm slap to the face, causing his already reddened cheek to swell slightly from the force of the blow. Profound, sickening words rained from the mouth of the stronger male as he began to strike his victim repeatedly. The assault started with slaps to the face, move on to strong punches to the chest and abdomen, and ended with him ripping away his trembling victims shirt. He beat the male beneath him into submission then proceeded to start stripping him down. Shirt and pants were removed from the trembling and sobbing boy, who weakly pleaded for mercy. The stronger male simply laughed and used his victims pathetic whimpers to further fuel the drive of his sick, twisted actions. He murmured sickening promises next to the boys ear, and touched places that he knew his victim did not want to be touched. The boy sobbed and whimpered the words "Please stop" repeatedly, but his assailant only chuckled and proceeded to take the next, sickening step of his corrupt actions.

However, before he could go any further, something collided with the side of his face and he was shoved off of the trembling boy beneath him. In an instant the male was on his feet clutching his injured face, and he shifted his gaze to glare at whomever had attacked him. Someone he didn't know was standing protectively in front of his intended victim, but thanks to her size he wasn't the slightest bit intimidated by her. She was shorter than him- hell, she was shorter than the boy he'd been attacking. Her skin was pale, he could tell simply by looking at her that she was exhausted. She was small, and she was weak. She was in no way fit to be standing up to him, and he knew it. Without so much as a warning he stepped forward and shoved her backwards, causing her to trip over the boy trembling on the ground. She stumbled and fell, but landed on her hands and arse instead of her head as he had hoped she would. Just as suddenly as he'd pushed her, she jumped off of the ground to stand protectively in front of the boy again, and this time the boy managed to regain enough of his composure to scramble away from them out of fear. He snatched his clothing as he went, and he hastily redressed himself upon making it to the bed. While he did that, the male and the woman that had appeared out of nowhere to step between them continued to duke it out.

Despite her disadvantages, the woman refused to move from between the male and his victim. She stood her ground and glared at him, despite knowing that it would only take one good blow from him to render her without defense. He knew it to, so he didn't waste time trying to land a decent hit. He threw punches aimed primarily at her face, and despite his speed and skill he never really managed to hit her. He didn't realize that she had one major advantage over him- it was dark in that room. He didn't know that she spent more time honing her eyes and ears in darkness than she did in light. The lack of illumination made it difficult for him to see, so his aim was never as accurate as it would have been in the day. That paired with her heightened senses in the dark made it very difficult for him to hit her. Still, he managed to land one blow. He struck her in the shoulder and knocked her back- she stumbled over her own feet and fell partially onto the bed. He immediately leapt at her and pinned her beneath him, and he began to strike her body mercilessly. She turned to face the side so that he couldn't hit the left side of her face- she let him punch her right cheek, jaw, and eye. That was when the frightened boy found it within him to intervene. He rushed into the males side and knocked him off of the defenseless woman he'd been beating.

They wrestled on the ground while she slowly recovered from the shock of the repeated blows she'd endured, and once she'd regained her senses she forced herself off of the bed and she stumbled over to them. Thanks to her injuries and the poor lighting, she had a difficult time figuring out which of them was the boy she intended on protecting, and which was the male she'd come to attack. When her vision managed to focus itself enough for her to tell the pair apart, she forced them apart and pulled the boy she intended on protecting back to his feet. That became a difficult task though- the fear he'd had had turned into rage. He was deadset on fighting the male with all he was worth, and he was indeed stronger than she was. In the end it took her stepping in front of the struggling boy and pressing the full of her body against his chest to get him to step back- but he still responded as if ready to rip someones throat out. She continued to push him back until she felt he'd pressed against a wall, then she stepped back herself and turned around to face the male that had nearly beaten her unconscious. If there had been light in the room, she would have been able to see the blood running from his broken nose, but he would have been in quite a shock. He'd struck her repeatedly in the face and yet she bore no bruise nor mark- it was as if he hadn't hit her at all. Pity their wasn't enough light in the room for this revelation to be made.

Again, it became a dangerous dance of strike or be struck for she and the male, except this time she muttered things to herself, and she occasionally made a bold move and move it to kick at him. One of her kicks resulted in the middle of her lower leg smashing into his- the pain struck both of them but she didn't even limp. He, on the other hand, could not put his weight on his injured leg. So, their dance continued with him struggling to stay standing and her continuing to talk to herself. She eventually spoke loud enough for those in the room to hear her. The words were simple. They were phrases- rhymes- that she repeated over and over again like a mantra as if she expected them to do something. As for what she was saying exactly, it seemed to be about a bird killing someone so that they wouldn't continue to fight. Then, she made a move that no one would have been expecting. She jumped at the male and tackled him- had it not been for the injury on his leg he would have been able to keep from falling, but thanks to that and her unexpected movement, he was shoved to the ground. Before he had a chance to react she bit him, hard. She put the side of his hand in her mouth and bit until she tasted blood and heard the sound of something crunch. He screamed and recoiled in pain and he yanked his hand out of her mouth, which tore his flesh open further. Then he retaliated by swinging his good hand at her to smack the right side of her face once again- it wouldn't have taken a genius to know that she would respond by grabbing his other hand and biting that one as well.

He lurched and knocked her off of him, which further damaged his hands. He pushed himself back to his feet, which made him leave bloodied handprints on the floor. She on the other hand, didn't bother to get up. She just lied seemingly comfortably on her back, on the floor, with her knees to her chest, as she waited for him to go after her again. Thanks to his rage, he did. He approached her as if ready to start kicking her with his bad leg, but as soon as he was within reach he found out why she'd decided to lie on her back. So she could kick him. Both her legs shot up like springs and her bare feet struck him in his lower abdomen. He hunched over and gasped for breath, only to get kicked in the face when she shoved her legs towards him again. That kick made him fall onto his stomach- she rolled over to avoided getting crushed under him, then she climbed on his back and took a fistful of his hair in her hand. Then, she put her mouth next to his ear and she snarled a threat- she kept her voice quiet so that the boy wouldn't be able to hear what she was saying. Then, she dropped his head and moved off his back. He forced himself off the ground and bolted out of the room as quickly as he could given the injuries he'd suffered. Mild as they were, they were painful- he would limp and have stomach pain for days. Not to mention his broken nose, among other facial injuries. As soon as he was out the door, she turned her attention to the boy. He was standing with his back against the wall and his eyes on her. So many emotions struggled to take over his expression. Fear, confusion, shock, anger. Eventually a shy smile crossed his features, and she responded to it by approaching him and holding her hand out for him to take.

He took it hesitantly, and she gently pulled him away from the wall and led him back to his bed. She sat down and convinced him to sit next to her, and they sat in silence staring at one another for a while. This was their first meeting after all- in person at least. He didn't have to ask her her name to know who she was. She was a woman he'd been speaking to over the internet- one of a handful he'd trusted with secrets he refused to tell others. He knew her face and voice because she'd put some pictures and videos of herself up for him, because she wanted him to know what she looked and sounded like. She'd been thousands of miles away from him the last he'd spoken to her, and she never gave the slightest clue of being on her way to meet him when he'd been online with her earlier that day. In the end though, he didn't care how she got there, he just knew she was there and that she should not have been. If he had been able to speak, he would have tried to convince her to leave, because he feared what would happen if she was discovered there. She seemed to notice his distress, and so she gave him a sad looking smile and moved as if to hug him goodbye. He flinched and backed away from her when she did this, and so she slowly lowered her arms and rose from the bed. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and she tried to give him a happy smile, then she walked towards the door to leave. He sat and watched her with disbelief as she opened the door, only to pause and turn back to him. She gave him another sorrowful smile, and offered him a few bittersweet words, before she stepped out the door and closed it behind her.

As soon as the door closed he jumped out of bed and rushed to the door fearing that someone may spot her. He pulled the door open to look down the hall in hopes of being able to lure her back into his room so that he could have her leave in a more discrete way. However, when he looked down the hall he was surprised to find that she was nowhere in sight. He did notice, however, that there was a red stain on his doorknob. He cast the thought aside and cleaned the knob believing that the male who had attacked him had been the one to leave it there. Then, he cleaned up the rest of the mess that lined the floor. Afterwards, he fixed himself up some, climbed back into bed, and stared at the ceiling. Sleep never overtook him that night, but that was not an unusual circumstance for him. Sometime the following day, he went online in hopes of messaging the woman and asking her a number of questions- but before he had a chance to send her a message, he noticed that she had already sent him one the night before. As soon as he opened the message, he spotted a link to a Youtube video, he followed the link to watch it. The video he saw was simple enough- it consisted of her finally working up the courage to sing him something, and of her reading a few short, sweet poems for him. The end of the video however, bothered him. She began to cry and spoke as if she were saying goodbye to a number of people. He was one of the people she said goodbye too, along with a few close friends, and a pair of people she had chosen as romantic partners. After watching the video, he messaged her hoping to get an explanation for what she had meant by the video- but she never responded.

For three weeks after that, he heard nothing from her or about her from anyone she knew. Until he received a message by someone who had known her closely in the real world. He was sent a link to a news report article, and he read it without hesitation. What was revealed to him through that report, shocked him. The first picture he saw was that of his friend, sitting in a chair facing her bedroom window, with her wrist slit. He read the report and found that she'd drawn a number of symbols and phrases on her chest and clothing using her blood, but no information was given on them. He also found one other key piece of information. She had slit her wrist and killed herself, at home, the same night she'd protected him from his attacker. She'd been thousands of miles away, dead, the very night she'd saved him...