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Inhiritance Short Story: Claire's Origin
🕑 Added 2019-04-12 04:14:31 +0000 UTCOn a whim, I wrote a short story for Claire yesterday. It's just one of those things that grabbed my imagination and I started writing. I wrote the first version of it, then I sent the piece to Irish Major Tom who created the character so they could make sure everything looked right for that character. They made a couple of small adjustments then sent it back to me. And now I'm sharing it with all of you!
This will be appearing in Theater Mode in next month's build, but I wanted to share it with all of you in the meantime.
Hope you enjoy!
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Dirty and determined, Claire walked down the street. Her belly cramped from lack of anything to eat, "I blew that asshole last night for a place to sleep, but no way him or anyone else is getting my cunt unless they earn it," The uncouth language makes her smile a little as she mumbles to herself, "Worthless fucking mom, so wrapped up in herself that she can't even look out for her own kids, and that piece of shit she's with," Claire shudders.
Stepping around a corner, she doesn't even see the man she runs straight into, "Tha fuck out of my way!" She growls before she even sees the man.
When she lays eye on him, she comes up short. He's a young man, but powerfully built. Dressed in leathers and several gang tattoos are visible on his neck and face. Oops.
The guy reaches out, , grabbing her by the front of her shirt and slamming her against the brick wall to their side. Clair's head swims, lights exploding in her vision as her head slams into the solid surface.
"I think you owe me a proper apology," The man growls, his teeth are stained from tobacco and his breath is enough to make her blanch. Between the stench of the man's breath and the throbbing pain in her head, she'd probably throw up all over herself if she had anything in her stomach to actually throw up, "Sorry," She manages with a whimper.
"Not good enough, you're a cute little thing, I'm going to take you back to my crib," He reaches out and roughly gropes one of her budding breasts, "You're going to apologize with your little pussy, then you're going to apologize to all my buddies."
A wave of panic goes through Claire, sobering her thoughts as she takes in everything at once. It's like the whole world slows down, every detail happening in slow motion. The man is clean shaved, a crinkled cigarette dangling from his lips. A metal stud pierces his left eyebrow and there's a scar over the other eye in the same place as if there was once one there as well. Her eyes move down his body, seeing the way his neck is strained with the exertion of pressing her against the wall. His leather jacket is open, revealing a black shirt with the logo of some band she's never heard of before seeing the white marble handle of a pistol tucked into the front of his jeans, He's going to kill me, But it's not until her eyes fall on her own feel dangling nearly a foot off the ground that she truly begins to appreciate the size of the man.
When her eyes flicker back up to his face, she sees the cherry of his cigarette glow brighter as he draws on it. There's a wicked glint in his eye as a smile starts to form on his lips.
Not going to happen you thick bastard, She thinks to herself, wondering if her brother would be more proud of her determination, or more disappointed in her language.
Adrenaline coursing through her body, the man doesn't even have time for his smile to finish forming on his lips before she lashes out. Her fist catches him right in the throat. Not with enough force to hurt him seriously, but it distracts him, and more importantly he loosens his grip on her.
As her weight falls on her shirt, she lifts her arms, falling to the ground while leaving the thug with only her shirt in his hand. She reaches out quickly, grabbing the pistol from his pants. With one foot, she catches the man in the side of the knee, causing the man to fall.
She points and pulls the trigger, then she pulls it harder, but no amount of force will cause the weapon to fire.
In front of her, the man is already getting back to his feet, murder in his eyes as he pivots toward her.
Claire's fight of flight instinct kicks in and she turns to run. Dressed in jeans and a bra, with a pistol in her hand, she sprints as if her life depends on it. Behind her, she can hear the man following.
When she nears an alley, she quickly ducks into it in the hopes of finding a way to lose the man, but she's horrified to see the alley end in a wall about twenty paces in.
She's still trying to come up with a solution, never even bothering to slow down in her headlong rush.
Then she sees her chance.
She jumps, her foot catching the brick wall, then she pushes off with every ounce of strength she has. She catches the fire escape ladder full in the face, clinging to it with her free hand while tossing the pistol up onto the landing. Blood is flowing freely from her nose by the time she's able to drag herself up onto the landing.
And not a moment too soon. She has just enough time to scoop up the pistol before she sees the man she is running from reach the alley. Her shirt is still clutched in his fist as he comes to a stop, his eyes searching the alley for where she might have gone
There's movement somewhere further in the alley, but she's so focused on the man entering the man that it might as well be a world away. Her eyes dart between the man and the pistol in her hands. Looking at the gun, she sees a little round protrusion near the slide, How fucking stupid could I be? Safety was on.
"Come out little girl, there's no place to run," The man says, anger clear in his voice, "You come out now, I'll rape you first then kill you fast, you make me look for you and I'm going to make you wish you were never born."
Joke's on you arsehole, I already wish I was never born, Claire thinks grimly, breathing through her mouth. The blood running from her nose tickles her lips as it runs down her face, though she doesn't dare reach to wipe it away for fear that her moving will draw his attention.
I've never shot one of these before, She thinks of the gun in her hand, her heart racing like it's never done before in her life. When the man is almost directly below her, she shifts her weight, prepared to move.
Down the alley, she's dimly aware that one of the doors is part way open.
A drop of blood drips from her chin, striking the man on the back of the neck.
He looks up.
The second that follows is a blur to her. Claire steps off the landing, gun aimed downward. Her feet catch the man on the shoulders. She grabs a fist full of his hair with one hand and screams. Her other hand shoves the gun against his shoulder right where it meets his neck.
The kick from the gun is enough to jerk her hand into the air, her fingers going numb and the pistol careening out of her grip.
Under her, the man goes limp as if he's a puppet with his strings suddenly cut. She rides him down, landing on her feet with one hand on the ground in front of her to catch her balance. Already her eyes are darting around for the gun and she sprints the short distance to the weapon, snatching it up and spinning toward the man.
She takes a deep breath, but doesn't lower the gun when she sees no sign of movement from the man.
A sudden creak from behind her causes Claire to pivot, pulling the trigger even before she knows what she's shooting at. To her credit she keeps hold of the gun this time, even if the shot goes wild and strikes the wall nearly three stories up.
"Shit girl! Put that thing down before you hurt someone who doesn't deserve it!" A older black man says, his beard peppered with white.
Claire takes in the sight of him. He's missing a hand, replaced with one of those claw prosthetics she's seen in the movies before, dressed in simple clothes, there's a dirty apron covering his front.
Her aim adjusts directly toward the man when she sees a gun in his hand, "Yeah that's not happening. I've been at the mercy of every bloody tosser I've met since leaving home, never again."
The man takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a long second before he lowers his own pistol, "Ok, keep it, just don't point it at me unless I do something to deserve it."
Claire can hear someone talking inside the building, but can't make out the words. The man glances toward the door and speaks loudly, "It's alright Lilly, it's nothing serious. Can you take the first aid kit to my office and see if you can't scrape up a hot meal. I'm just talking to someone who could use a little help."
"My name's Brandon," His eyes turn back to Claire, "This is the back door to the city soup kitchen," His eyes move from the dead thug, her shirt still in his hand, then to her dirty and bloody appearance, "What you did just now, I caught part of that, you're quick and you're resourceful, good qualities for a kid on the street. I just wish I would have been quick enough to help," His eyes move to her gun again.
This time, she lowers it part way, but still keeps it pointed in his general direction.
"What you just did, he probably deserved it and more, I won't judge," He sighs, "I probably shouldn't, but I'm going to help you," Claire had the gun pointed back at him even before he can finish speaking, "You're going to put that thing away, and we're going to get you a hot meal. Your gun can be our little secret, but the others working inside are going to get really skittish if they see it."
Regular knight in shining armor, ain't he, She thinks skeptically.
"Here's what I want you to do. We're going to switch spots. I'm going to make that guy go away before people can ask any unwanted questions. If the cops get involved, they're going to want to take you home, and something tells me that's not something you want. You're going to take your shirt and put it on, then put that gun away before going inside. My office is the first one on the right, you go in there and wait. We'll take care of your cuts and scrapes, get you a hot meal, and see if we can't find you a cot so you don't have to sleep on the ground tonight."
As Claire moves toward the alley door, she stays as far away from the man as she can, not putting away the pistol until she's at the back door, What the fuck have I gotten myself into? She wonders as she steps inside.
