Thread: [â] eyes as candles - {dream+nymph}

Of all places for gang violence to occur, it had to at her sanctuary. This museum for many years had been her chapel. Through the tragic losses adversities Johnta had faced over a course of nearly ten years, this haven was the safest place she had ever come across. For those who wanted to deface a place of peace and creativity, they were made. Johnta instinctively shielded her visage with her hands as a group of men swerved by. She staggered backward, busily smacking away the stagnant, salty taste in her mouth. As nonchalant as she was, she was in no position to hand over her life to random gang violence. Johnta was startled by a calloused, right hand gripping her bicep. Come with me, a malicious male's voice sneered. She gazed upward into a pair of snake-like brown eyes which were filled to the brim with murderous intent. The man was throw aback by Johnta's strength as she jerked her arm back from his grasp. Another man approached, and with a furled fist, lobbed it at Johnta's assailant. With the two men writhing and bickering on the floor, the Caribbean woman cautiously strafed backwards, the souls of her expensive heals coated in the curator's blood. What came next, unfortunately, was a bit more of a shock. She let forth a muffled howl after the cloth graced her maw. With florescent green eyes wide, Johnta raised her flawless hands around the man's wrists, prying, digging her manicured nails into his flesh, but to no avail. His grip was a death grip he wasn't letting go. ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? Alas ... the delicate little lamb is injured. Dante reached down underneath the decorative black leather sofa, plucking his target upward by her dainty wrist with virtually no strength whatsoever. Does that mean she's tainted? Or just easier to catch? Personally, my dear ... I enjoy the hunt with some difficulty to it. But, I won't complain if there's a bit of a handicap. The man grinned a sadistic, forbearing grin, skillfully plucking a baretta from his pocket. Alright, Ms. Rolet. I'm going to have to ask you to come with me. His breath was hot on her neck he locked his arm around her neck while the other hand occupying the fire-arm was aimed towards her skull. The cool metal of the gun parted her thin, ginger bangs, finding the flesh of her scalp. He chuckled a low, grand chuckle, then jerked her in the direction towards the fire-exit. In no way was Dante gentle or forgiving, he was a relentless gang-banger and notorious drug trafficer. There was honor amongst thieves, but there was amongst gang members ... for the most part. With the frigid barrel still pressed to her temple Dante led her out into the dank alleyway. It was hazy and wreaked of sewage and rotting garbage. Move it! he sneered, caressing the hammer of the gun with his thumb. He reached into his pocket and unfolded a napkin inside were two small pills that seemed fragile enough to melt upon contact with any moisture. He placed the napkin over her mouth, forcing the pills into her maw. Within seconds - if the pills worked correctly, which they would - she'd be out cold ... and malleable. He'd be able to transport her much easier to his hovel. listulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistu