Filomi Cinada
The smell of gasoline and perfume permeated the air as Filomi Cinada hurried on her way to her small home in the corridors of the city. The nooks and crannies, the little places, the unobtrusive homes that no one noticed in favour of paying attention to people like her friends' families: the important people who knew what they were doing. She was just a middle-class girl who ran a middle-class bookshop, with a very extraordinary girlfriend. The thought of Rosiie brought a smile to her face, leaving her to zone out somewhat as she retraced the steps she took every day. From the bookstore to the house, back to the bookstore the next morning, except for Saturdays. Sometimes she enjoyed a very pleasant day off, though.
Her smile evaporated as a strong hand grasped her left arm, the owner leading her a little off track. "Miss Cinada," the young man said, smiling brightly. She laughed and nodded, tilting her head to the side. "It's been a while," Filomi responded, shading her eyes with the hand holding her light grocery bag. "How have things been going? You found what you were looking for, right?" She kept an even pace with him, lowering her hand as they turned a corner onto a slightly less-crowded sidewalk. 'Slightly' gave her enough room to breathe.
"Yes, everything's fine... Miss Cinada, can I speak with you for a bit? In private? It's important." He glanced at her, looking genuinely worried. At her concerned frown and nod, he tugged her into an abandoned sidestreet, leading down the walk between two buildings. "Somewhere," he muttered. "Ah, here," he said, leading her into a hidden alcove.
In the next instant, a hand was pressing her into the wall by the throat, making her struggle for breath, and a knife was pressed at her collarbone. She licked her lips and tried to focus on breathing as the young man stared her down, looking more inhuman and dangerous than most people did. Only most, not all... Fil smiled and said conversationally, "I suppose this is the part where you tell me not to scream? Don't worry, I know people don't care about me, not enough to save me." Her voice thinned out as the pressure on her throat increased slightly. "Just don't hurt me too badly. Rosiie likes me in one piece."
Her smile evaporated as a strong hand grasped her left arm, the owner leading her a little off track. "Miss Cinada," the young man said, smiling brightly. She laughed and nodded, tilting her head to the side. "It's been a while," Filomi responded, shading her eyes with the hand holding her light grocery bag. "How have things been going? You found what you were looking for, right?" She kept an even pace with him, lowering her hand as they turned a corner onto a slightly less-crowded sidewalk. 'Slightly' gave her enough room to breathe.
"Yes, everything's fine... Miss Cinada, can I speak with you for a bit? In private? It's important." He glanced at her, looking genuinely worried. At her concerned frown and nod, he tugged her into an abandoned sidestreet, leading down the walk between two buildings. "Somewhere," he muttered. "Ah, here," he said, leading her into a hidden alcove.
In the next instant, a hand was pressing her into the wall by the throat, making her struggle for breath, and a knife was pressed at her collarbone. She licked her lips and tried to focus on breathing as the young man stared her down, looking more inhuman and dangerous than most people did. Only most, not all... Fil smiled and said conversationally, "I suppose this is the part where you tell me not to scream? Don't worry, I know people don't care about me, not enough to save me." Her voice thinned out as the pressure on her throat increased slightly. "Just don't hurt me too badly. Rosiie likes me in one piece."