In the Claws of an Angel

-Seven months later.-

"Miss?"

I could feel the warmth of sunshine on my face as my eyes creaked open from a less than peaceful slumber. I peered around me and saw the worn, old red leather interior of a truck.

I groaned, still half asleep, and rolled away from the hand on my shoulder that was gently shaking me. When I didn't sit up, the hand shook a little faster. "Miss?"

For some reason, that was enough to jar me completely awake. I bolted up-right in the seat, my eyes wide. I whirled my head to the left as the hand flew from my shoulder, and I saw a man in his late fifties wearing a straw hat, a pair of dusty overalls and a red flannel shirt. He was holding his hands up in front of him defensively, and I suddenly remembered where I was and how I got there.

The man's name was Otis, and he was a farmer from somewhere in the middle of Mississippi. He had been the only vehicle to stop for me as I thumbed my way down the interstate miles and miles back, which I didn't even know the name of... I just knew I was in Mississippi.

"Sorry, you startled me..." I grumbled to Otis as I rubbed my eyes, and he lowered his hands. "Are we still in Mississippi?"

"Just barely," The old farmer replied while opening the driver's side door, "This here's just a little town I get my chicken feed from, right on the state boarder... 'Fraid I ain't goin' much farther than this, fixin' to turn back for home once I get my feed."

I nodded and gathered my duffle bag from the passenger side floorboard, placing my hand on the doorhandle.

"That's alright." I said to Otis as I popped the door open, "You've already been a big help. I'd still be stuck back there on the interstate if you hadn't of stopped for me. I can figure something out from here."

"You sure you're gonna be okay, miss?" He asked me from across the bench seat of the truck. He knew my name was Anabelle, but still called me 'Miss'. "You got family 'round these parts or somethin'?"

I tried to hide the sadness in my smile as I flashed it over to the farmer.

"No, but I've been on my own for a while now... I'll manage."

Otis looked genuinely concerned, but only responded with a simple nod of his head.

With that, each of us hopped out of the truck, and slammed our doors shut. It was about mid-morning, judging by the position of the sun in the sky, not to mention the heat it was casting down on us. I squinted a little bit under the bright rays.

I took a second to take in my surroundings. We were parked out in front of a large blue building that looked a little like a barn. Right above the door was a sign that read 'Corey's Farm Mart'.

The feed store seemed to be located right in the middle of the quaint little town. There were people roaming the sidewalks, peeking into store fronts or deciding on a place to eat for lunch.

Tall, leafy trees casted shade over cars and trucks parallel parked in the streets, next to the sidewalk. It was such a cozy little place, it felt full of life, and all its people seemed so happy... I felt a pang of sadness in my heart, knowing I didn't fit into a place like this.

I took one last glance at Otis's old red pick up truck before bidding him farewell, and turning on my heel to leave... But I didn't take even one step before he called out to me.

"Be careful in your travels, now," He said to me, "There's a lot of weirdos out there."

I didn't say anything back. Instead, I just nodded my head, waved to Otis, and went along my way.

I sighed as I stared ahead, knowing I didn't have to worry about any 'weirdos'.

As far as society was concerned, I was one of them...

xxxxxx

I didn't have to walk far to find a gas station, maybe only two or three blocks before I could see the pumps up ahead.

There was a single car parked at one of the four pumps. It was a small silver sedan... a Ford Focus, or something. I noticed the driver wasn't anywhere to be seen as I passed the car, and just assumed that he or she had gone inside to buy a drink or pay for gas.

A small bell hanging over the door jingled cheerfully as I pushed it open and walked inside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee immediately rushed to me, and my mouth watered.

I absolutely loved a hot cup of coffee loaded with cream and sugar, but it was way too expensive, and I never had more than a dollar or so on me... Coffee also wasn't the easiest thing to steal, which was how I had been shamefully surviving for almost eight months.

"Good afternoon, sweetie." The cashier greeted me from behind the register in a thick southern drawl.

I turned to look at her. She was a thin woman with thick, dark hair that was starting to gray slightly. Her hazel colored eyes were hidden behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

I glanced down at the name tag clipped to her red 'GoGo Express' vest and read the name PEGGY.

"Hi..." I replied back to her with a shy smile. Sometimes I hated how awkward and meek I was. "Um... do you have a restroom...?"

Peggy nodded and pointed to the back left corner of the small store. I thanked her and headed back in that direction. On my way, I passed by a middle aged man wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and an orange t-shirt, who was browsing through the store's selection of sunglasses. I assumed he was the owner of the silver car outside.

I shifted my duffle bag from one side to the other to avoid mowing the stranger down in the narrow aisle, and finally located the restroom. The rusty hinges creeked as I opened the door, then they creaked again as I locked myself inside.

I dropped my duffle bag on the floor next to the mirror, avoiding looking at my reflection for as long as possible. I knew I looked like hell, but that was why I was in this bathroom; To fix that.

I crouched beside the bag and quickly unzipped it. I snatched out a ziplock baggie which held my toothbrush and toothpaste, my hairbrush, one of my travel sized shampoos, and my make up bag... All of which had been stolen from a Wal-Mart back in Texas somewhere. I wasn't proud of stealing at all, but I was good at it.

I stood up, tossed everything on the ledge of the sink, and finally peered at my reflection.

I watched myself cringe at the sight of my greasy hair tied up in a ratty ponytail, and the puffy bags under my eyes. It had been a few days since I'd had a chance to freshen up.

First, a pulled my toothbrush and toothpaste from the plastic baggie, getting the first task done in record time.

After my toothbrush was thoroughly rinsed and dried, I dropped it back into the baggie with the toothpaste, then set it aside and moved onto my hair.

"Time to tame the beast..." I muttered while gripping the hair tie that held my pony tail in place.

My hair barely budged from the pony tail shape, and my face twisted up in disgust at the sight of it.

I averted my eyes from my gruesome reflection, and focused on twisting both the hot and cold water on in the sink instead. I tweaked it to just the right warm temperature, then dunked my head under the running water.

A sigh of content escaped my lips as the water rushed over my head and soaked my hair. Now I just needed the shampoo.

I reached my hand up and felt around for the small bottle... Until my finger tips bumped it and sent it clattering to the floor. I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing if I bent down to get it, my wet mop of hair would soak my shirt.

Not to mention I was just too lazy.

"Dammit..." I cursed as I peered at the fallen bottle out of the corner of my eye.

Then, I remembered my mutation. Even after almost eight months, it was still so new and strange to me. Sometimes I forgot about it completely.

I still hadn't exactly mastered my control of it, and it still seemed to spike with my emotions, but I was making progress.

I took a deep breath and held my hand out toward the bottle. At first it didn't budge, so I thought harder about it moving, staring straight at it.

Suddenly it wobbled a bit, and my heart leapt into my throat. A wide smile spread across my face as the shampoo bottle levitated its way toward my outstetched fingers, as if it were floating in zero gravity.

A triumphant feeling rushed over me as I closed my hand around the bottle. I had done it! Now I just had to learn to do that all the time.

I quickly squeezed some of the strawberry scented shampoo into my palm and scrubbed into my hair, inhaling the heavenly aroma.

I rinsed the suds from my hair as quickly as possible, wrung most of the moisture out, then turned and pressed my palm against the hand dryer. I tossed my head around under the warm air, drying my long locks just until they were damp.

Now I just had to slap on my make-up, and I was out of there. I quickly dabbed concealer under my eyes,brushed some pale, loose powder all over my face, and boardered my eyes with my black eyeliner pencil. I added a thick coat of dark mascara, the finishing touch.

I gazed at my new reflection, looking like a totally different girl. My dark hair was clean and wavy, though still damp. The eyeliner made my ice blue eyes pop against my pale face, and my eyelashes were now full and dark.

I sighed in relief and actually saw my pale pink lips curve into a smile.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. It startled me a little bit, causing me to flinch.

"J-just a second...!" I called out to the unknown person on the other side of the door, then shoved the ziplock full of all my beauty products back into the duffle bag.

I skipped the zipper and just yanked the bag up off the floor. I tossed it over my shoulder, unlocked the door, and dodged a very eager old woman as she pushed passed me. I rolled my eyes and made my way back into the store.

Luckily, the cashier was busy with a phone call, and I was able to stuff a few bags of chips and a bottle of water into my bag without her noticing.

Then, I slipped out the door, and disappeared without a trace.

I walked fast, trying to get as far away from the gas station as possible. After maybe forty five minutes, I came across a small thrift store on the edge of town. From there, the main road strayed into another open, barren highway.

I glanced at the road in front of me, then back to the store. I chewed my bottom lip in contemplation... All of my tops were pretty much ruined, most of them ripped and stained...

So, I made the decision to make a pit stop and use my five finger discount to get a few more shirts. Then, I'd be on my way.

The inside of the store was small but jam packed full of racks of clothes. Perfect.

The ditzy looking blonde working the cash register had her eyes buried in an old Cosmo magazine, and didn't even bother looking up at me... Even better.

There were two other women in the store with me, a mother and her teenaged daughter. I ducked behind a rack of dresses and eavesdropped on their conversation while simultaneously stuffing tank tops that looked like my size into my duffle bag.

"What about this, Mama?" The teen asked in the same southern drawl that everyone around here had.

"That's adorable! It would go real nice with those black pants you have." Came the mother's reply.

The two of them kept chattering about things like boys, school and the clothes they were showing each other. I smiled softly to myself... but I didn't feel happy.

Sadness and a little jealousy pulsated through my veins as I listened to the giggles and loving tones the mother and daughter used toward each other... Something I had never shared with my own mother. I felt cheated, and I had felt that way for years and years...

"Mama, what's goin' on?" I heard the teenager gasp suddenly. She sounded afraid...

And that's when I came back to reality, and noticed all the racks of clothes in the store were shaking. I felt my stomach drop, realizing I had let my sadness get the better of me, and my telekinesis was starting to fester.

I tried my best to control it, but that never worked, only made it worse. The girl and her mother screamed as an entire rack of jeans lifted from the floor and rocketed toward the front window. The deafening sound of the glass shattering was finally enough to catch the cashier's attention.

She abandoned her magazine and rushed out from behind the front counter, but I wasn't going to wait around for anything. I bolted straight for the door and shoved my way through it, feeling like I could have shattered that, too.

I kept running down the highway, as fast as my legs would carry me. I never looked back toward the small town, just kept my eyes forward. They were stinging with angry tears that were soon streaming down my face, but I didn't care.

I was just so sick of running. Sick of hiding, sick of stealing, sick of lying... Sick of not knowing the feeling of belonging...

Sick of being a freak.

xxxxxx

The sun was beginning to sink below the trees that boardered the interstate, giving me some much needed relief from the heat.

I had been strolling along the old, empty road for a few hours now. So far, not a soul had passed me by... but I didn't really mind being alone for once. I just needed to clear my head.

The bottle of water I had snagged from the gas station earlier hung at my side in my right hand. I had downed a little more than half of it, but it was always harder for me to drink it once it got warm.

I kicked pebbles as I walked, attempting to keep them floating in the air with my telekinesis. Sometimes it worked, but only for a second or two before I'd loose control. The pebbles would zing off to the side, bouncing across the road, and one of them had even bounced back and smacked me in the forehead. I gave up after that one.

Puddles pooled along the sides of the highway from a rain shower that I had, thankfully, avoided. I could feel the steam rising up from the grass and dirt baking underneath my converse.

Then, suddenly, a familier sound rumbled from a little ways behind me.

A motor.

I glanced behind me, and saw an old blue truck driving in my direction. Attached over the bed was a small camper, big enough for one person or maybe two small people.

I thought about thumbing for a ride as the truck approached, but decided against it and just kept walking. I'd be fine on foot for a while longer.

I listened as the sound of the tires rushing against the pavement grew closer. They caught a deep puddle as the truck passed me, splashing mud and grease all over the front of me. My dark jeans and pale yellow t-shirt were soaked, but they were already dirty and grungy anyway.

I gasped at the sudden, uncomfortable feeling of my wet clothes clinging to my body. The truck just kept on driving, leaving me standing there, fuming.

"ASSHOLE!!" I shouted pointlessly toward the truck while watching it disappear around a corner up ahead.

I sighed and mentally thanked myself for stopping at that thrift store a while back... At least I could change into some clean, dry clothes.

There was a thick cluster of bushes in the woods about twenty feet away from the road, so I quickly jogged over and hid myself behind them, just in case another random vehicle happened to pass by. My duffle bag hit the ground with a 'thud', and I quickly unzipped it.

I pulled the first tank top I saw out of the bag, a pink and black zebra print racer back. Then, I grabbed my pale denim shorts that were frayed at the ends, and changed as quickly as possible.

Once I got back to walking the interstate, I made sure to stear clear of any more puddles...

xxxxxx

When the sun disappeared from the sky, the night air chilled me right down to the bone. It probably wasn't any cooler than fifty or sixty degrees, but I always gotten cold easily. In moments like these, I was thankful for my black hooded jacket.

I zipped the zipper all the way up, rubbing my arms to give myself some extra warmth. As I rounded a bend, I prayed that there would be something on the other side, anything... I just wanted to warm up.

My heart skipped a beat when I actually saw a small building up ahead, as if my prayers had been answered. I quickened my pace, eager to get out of the cold. As I got closer, I could see the building was a small dive bar called 'Larry's', although the burnt out A in the neon sign made it look like 'Lrry's'.

Behind the bar sat a run down motel, but I couldn't find a sign with the name of it... Looked like a place where hookers went and never came back from.

I decided to stay clear of the nameless motel as I crossed the barren highway, making my way toward the bar.

The parking lot was small with maybe five or six vehicles parked out front, and I actually recognized one. The old blue truck that had soaked me a while back.

"Figures..." I muttered while rolling my eyes as I passed it.

At least I didn't know what the driver looked like.

When I opened the door, every head turned to look at me, and just as I thought, I was the only woman there. I ignored the stares as I turned and headed for the sign that said 'Restrooms'.

The ladies room was cleaner than I'd expected, but still wasn't anything to write home about. I stared at my reflection in the dingy mirror, pleased that my make-up had held up all this time. My hair needed a brush, though.

When I was done, I straggled back into the main part of the bar, feeling awkward and out of place around all the burly men. They still stared, although now they didn't make it quite as obvious.

The bartender smiled at me as I sat down at the end of the bar and shrugged off my jacket. He was a middle aged man, probably about 40 or so, and he had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

"What's yer poison, sweetheart?" He asked me in a southern drawl. I must have still been in Mississippi.

"Just water, please..." I answered back in embarrassment. I didn't even have enough money for half a beer, let alone a tip.

But, the bartender didn't give me a nasty look or point to the door and tell me to get lost like I thought he would. Instead, he simply nodded and told me he'd get it right to me. I thanked him quietly.

I kept my eyes forward, sipping my water and listening to the sound old country music playing from the radio.

"Aaall my exe's live in Texas..." The song droned on.

Pool billiards smacked against each other from behind me, and I could hear the group of men huddled around the pool table whispering.

Suddenly, someone walked passed me from the direction of the restrooms, and took a seat four stools down from me. I took a quick glance at him and looked away. All I could gather was that he had dark hair and wore a leather jacket... My glance had been too quick for any more detail.

He grumbled to the bartender, who in return grabbed a Budweiser from under the bar, popped it open, and set it in front of him. Human nature got the best of me as I turned my head to look at the man again, this time just a little bit longer.

I was right about his hair being dark. It was sort of long, naturally waving back away from his chizzled looking face. His scruffy sideburns seemed to grow down into a neatly trimmed line along his jaw, forming an interesting looking goatee.

My eyes dropped from his face down to his clothes. He was dressed pretty simply. His leather jacket was brown, and underneath it was a white tank top. A silver dogtag hung from his neck, but of course I couldn't read it.

He wore a pair of snug blue jeans, a brown belt, and a pair of dusty brown boots. He looked like he was built pretty well under all those clothes, and there was something so mysterious about him.

He sipped his beer and glanced at me through the corner of his eye, catching me staring. I felt my cheeks burn red as I quickly looked away... I was so embarrassed, and I didn't really know why.

This shyness was a curse. That man looked older than me, maybe in his early forties, but the more I thought of him the sexier he became to me, and I felt drawn to look at him again, but I was too bashful.

Here I was, 26 years old, and I couldn't even make myself look at an attractive stranger. The last time I had been with a guy, I was 22 and I had hooked up with my co-worker unexpectantly after giving him a ride home from work. You know, back when I had a car.

But it was quick and meaningless and I honestly didn't even remember much about it.

Any other woman in my position probably would have already been in the car, on the way home with this guy, but not me... Maybe that was for the best, though. Who knows what my mutation might do in a situation like that...

Or this could have just been my overwhelming amount of estrogen talking.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

The bartender's voice brought me out of my thoughts, and I realized I had been gripping my half full glass of water, staring into space.

"Y-yes..?" I stammered after clearing my throat, and the bartender popped open a bottle of budlight he was holding.

"This is from the gentlemen at the pool table." He said with a grin as he set the beer down in front of me, "Please, enjoy."

I looked down at the drink suspiciously before turning to glance over my shoulder at who had sent it.

Four greasy looking men stood there, leaning against the pool table. Each of them had stupid grins on their faces, and one of them even waved. I turned back to the bartender with a disgusted look on my face.

"I wouldn't exactly call those guys gentlemen," I said, "But thank you."

The bartender shrugged, and as I took a swig of the ice cold bud light, I swear I heard the mysterious man next to me chuckle at what I had said.

I ignored it though, and listened to his gruff voice as he ordered another Budweiser. The hair stood up on the back of my neck as he spoke.

What the hell was wrong with me...? Why was he so fascinating? And more importantly, why couldn't I make myself talk to him?

I quickly finished the beer before it had a chance to get warm, and the bartender collected the empty bottle. I took a drink of water, about to stand up and leave, when another bud light was placed in front of me.

I looked up at the bartender quizically.

"'Nother one from the boys." He said with the same grin before walking away.

I thought about just leaving it there, but I shrugged and kept my seat, wrapping my fingers around the chilled bottle. Free beer didn't come around often, so I was going to enjoy it... Even if it was from a bunch of creepy bar rats.

I got about halfway through the second beer before I heard footsteps approaching from behind me. Suddenly there was a body in the stools on each side of me, and I could feel two more behind me.

"How'syer beer, sweet thing?" One of the men from the pull table slurred from beside me as he leaned in closer.

He reaked of whiskey. I pulled away from him and found myself bumping into another, who chuckled and brushed his hand against my arm.

"Leave me alone..." I mumbled while shrugging the disgusting feeling of his fingers off me.

"What, you gonna take our beer and not give us nothin' in return...?" One of the men from behind me asked.

"It's common courtesy, y'know." The first one pointed out, causing the others to drunkenly chuckle and agree.

I gripped the beer in my hand, instantly regreting drinking either of them. My eyes widened as one of their grimey paws slid down the front of my tank top, and I instinctively tossed what was left inside the bottle into his face.

"Get off me!" I growled and tried to push them all away, but I wasn't strong enough.

"C'mon, honey-" The same man reached for my tank top again, and that did it.

Something in my head snapped, and I felt the pressure from the telekinetic blast, completely focused at the man grabbing for me. He was thrown backward at an incredible force, smashing into a glass trophy case... he was dead instantly.

I felt everyone's eyes on me as the bar silenced, minus the cheerfully out of place country music. Tears burned in my eyes as the three other men ran to their friend, screaming and pointlessly trying to revive him.

I gathered up my duffle bag and raced out the door, avoiding all the wide eyes in the room.

The door opened again behind me before I could get even a quarter of the way across the parking lot, and suddenly I was surrouned by the three remaining men... They didn't look very happy.

"What're you, one of those freaks or somethin?!" One of them screamed at.me, and all I could do was sob.

I tried to dash through the gap between them, but they were too fast for me. They grabbed my shoulders and shoved me backwards, knocking me to the pavement.

"You killed my brother..." The tallest of the men whispered as hw towered over me, and suddenly he flipped open a pocket knife. "YOU KILLED 'IM!"

My breathing became ragged as I crawled backwards on the asphalt, only to be yolked up by the other two men.

I struggled, but I had no energy left. The telekinetic blast inside the bar had drained me completely, and now I couldn't even fight for my life...

"You might be pretty, but we don't take kindly to you mutants 'round these parts..." The man with the knife grumbled as he inched closer, and I cringed at the word 'mutant'. "Looks like we're gonna have to do a little exterminatin'..."

I closed my eyes tight, waiting for the sharp pain of being stabbed, but it never came. Instead, I heard the bar door open again, and the sound of footsteps thundering toward us.

There was a series of metallic slicing sounds, accompanied by a few furious roars. My captors grips loosened on me, but the weight of their bodies falling to the ground took me down with them.

I shrugged their lifeless hands from my arms, but I was too weak to stand up. In the dim light of the bar's neon sign, I could see the mysterious man from the bar standing a few feet in front of me with his back turned.

My vision was beginning to blur, but as my eyes dropped to his hands, I could see what looked like the blades of three sharp knives... But as they slid under the skin of each pair of his knuckles, I realized that they weren't knives at all.

This man was a mutant, just like me... And he had saved me life.

As my vision morphed from blurry to almost completely black, I felt the man scoop my limp body into his arms, craddling me into his strong masculine chest.

I inhaled, and I could smell a mix of cigars, beer and aftershave... And somehow, it was very comforting.

The last thing I could see before completely loosing conciousness was the man reaching out to open the door of the old blue truck with the white camper...

Figures...

~~