The Neighbourhood

This story contains violence, language, death, angst, abuse, and sex.
Reviews are welcome as is constructive criticism.


Chapter 8

Day 1

When Beatrice woke she had a moment of silent panic when she realised she wasn’t sleeping in her own bed. She wasn’t in her own room, either. Her surroundings were utterly unfamiliar- then slowly everything came back to her: Crowley, the errand, her dad, running away. She settled back into the mattress once she had reacquainted herself with reality.

She hadn’t noticed Crowley beside her until he grunted and rolled over, throwing an arm around her waist. Beatrice froze. She hadn’t remembered falling asleep but apparently she-they had. She was fully clothed, and so was the sleeping man next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Nothing had happened. But secretly she thought she wouldn’t mind if something had happened. The one kiss they had shared was driving her crazy, her mind replaying it over and over again, her body remembering the sensations. God, how she wanted to kiss him again…and maybe even more than that.

Beatrice berated herself for such thoughts. One kiss was one kiss, and that was it. Nothing more. Just something that had happened, for reasons unknown, which would probably never happen again. No matter how much she wanted it to.

Crowley’s breath tickled her neck and she became aware of the warmth of his body and just how close he was. A thrill ran through her body and her heart beat faster. God, it felt so good with his arm around her waist and his body next to hers…I wonder what it would feel like if we were naked.

Beatrice cursed herself as the image of a naked Crowley ran through her brain, exciting her in a very physical way. She wanted to continue to lay there until he awoke, but she felt like she was taking advantage of the situation. But it couldn’t hurt, right?

Beatrice turned a little bit to watch him sleep. She had never seen him look so calm…

He really was a handsome man, she realised, now that she had a chance to study him up close without being embarrassed. The girls I used to know would throw themselves all over him if they saw him. The thought of other girls with Crowley made her angry and sad. Angry because she wanted him for herself and sad because she knew that there were so many girls who were prettier than her.

And you thought you had a chance.

Beatrice slipped Crowley’s arm off of her and got up from the mattress. She changed into a clean pair of pants and a blue blouse that clung tightly to her breasts and waist. She had always had a nice, curvy figure. Once she had starved herself so she would become thin and lose her curves, hoping it would disgust her dad and he wouldn’t touch her anymore. She had lasted six days without food before she couldn’t stand the hunger pains anymore.

Beatrice pinned her curly, black hair up with a comb and then put on her jacket without zipping it up. She was just about to leave when Crowley woke up.

“Hey! Where’d ya think you’re goin?”

Beatrice put one hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

Crowley sat up and yawned, rubbing his hand over his head. His stubble beard wasn’t stubble anymore. Beatrice had never seen a man unshaven before and found she quite liked it on this one.

“Nah not really, because you’re not goin out anymore,” he said, standing up and going over to the coffee table.

He opened a pack of cigarettes and took one out. Beatrice watched as he placed it between his lips and lit up. It was only when he made a coughing noise that she realised she had been staring at his lips.

“I’m not?” She said stupidly, trying to gather her thoughts.

“That’s right. Ya can’t go outside alone, not when ya look like that,” he said while he peeled open a corner of the duct taped window and looked out.

“Looking like what?” She asked, baffled. He was distracting her with all his moving about.

“Nevermind. I’ll come with ya if you wanna go out, okay?”

Beatrice grew angry. She wasn’t a little child. She didn’t need him to baby-sit her.

“No! I want to be alone. Besides, I can take care of myself,” she snapped.

Crowley stood still, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He grumbled to himself and shook his head She thought she heard the words ‘stubborn’ and ‘women’.

“Does everythin have to be an argument with ya? And did ya every think, maybe even consider the fact that I know what the hell I’m talkin about?”

Beatrice chewed on her lip, feeling a little foolish. “Alright! Whatever. Come with me then if you have to,” she muttered.

Crowley loaded the pistol he had and handed Beatrice a sheathed knife.

She looked at him, then at the knife. “And where do you think I’m going to put that? Right next to my bow and arrows?”

Crowley stared at her, confused. Then he seemed to understand.

“Fine. You win,” he said, laying it back down beside the other knives.

The day was bright and warm, the sky clear. Beatrice took off her jacket and put it on Crowley’s porch.

“I guess I won’t need that,” she said, and smoothed out her blouse. She thought she saw Crowley staring at her breasts but she wasn’t sure.

“Why did you bring a gun? Are we fighting aliens out here or something?” She asked jokingly.

They walked side by side along the cobble stone street and Beatrice was glad she hadn’t gone out alone. She enjoyed the man’s company but she wasn’t about to tell him that. They passed by a two story house and Beatrice could’ve sworn she saw someone looking out the window. But there was no one there.

It gave her the creeps. It was so quiet here. There were no birds singing or the sound of people talking, children playing, dogs barking, nothing. Eerie.

“Not aliens. Humans,” he said. He looked tense, as if he were expecting an attack at any moment.

“Why is it so quiet?” She whispered.

She remembered how scared she had been yesterday. Now she was even more scared. It was broad daylight. Anyone could see them. Watch them. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and Beatrice suddenly grasped Crowley’s arm. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Let’s go back, Crowley. This is exactly like the part in the scary movies before someone gets killed,” she pleaded, looking around nervously. She could sense someone watching them.

Crowley pushed her away from him. “Keep walkin. Don’t stop or look around,” he hissed.

“Why? Why can’t we go back?” She realised they were both whispering.

“Because they’ll come out and screw with us if we do. I usually stay inside…but I thought it’d be alright if we went out today. I guess not,” he said.

Beatrice took his hand and held it in a death grip. “You won’t leave me now, will you?” She asked softly.

Crowley looked over at her, surprised. “Why would ya say that, Beatrice?”

Beatrice stared ahead. “I was just wondering…”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “No. I won’t leave ya. Promise,” he said.

Beatrice smiled. She wasn’t so scared anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~

Five years ago

Beatrice paid the cashier for the pliers and cable cutters and left the hardware store feeling proud of herself. She had gotten exactly what he asked for and she was sure he’d be pleased with her. Maybe he would let her watch her favourite TV show, or wear lipstick to school, and maybe… just maybe he would buy her a new pair of shoes!

She started imagining herself with a pair of shiny, black Maryjanes. All the girls at school would be jealous of her! I’ll wear my nice dress with my gold earrings and Joseph will notice me for sure.

Beatrice hummed happily to herself, looking around for her dad’s truck. He had told her he’d be waiting in the truck but she couldn’t see it.

Beatrice stopped humming.

“Dad! Dad?” She shouted, running into the parking lot and searching for the beat up, red Chevy. She started to panic.

“DAD! I got what you wanted! I’m right here!”

People started to stare at her as she ran back and forth between the parking lanes frantically. She tripped on a curb and fell down, scraping her knee open.

An elderly woman walked towards her and tried to help her up. “Are you alright, honey? Do you need any help?”

“NO! Leave me alone! My dad’s gonna come get me, he wouldn’t leave me here!” She cried, pulling away from the woman.

She sat on a bench outside the store and held her bleeding knee. Suddenly she burst into tears.

She waited two hours for him to come back and get her.

He never came.

~~~~~~~

“Ay, mates! Look who came out to take a stroll!”

Crowley stopped walking at the sound of the voice behind them. His whole face became blank and his knuckles gripped his pistol so hard they turned white.

He turned around slowly, and Beatrice could tell he was thoroughly pissed.

Beatrice turned too and saw three men and one woman not too far away, emerging from the back of a house.

There was one man who was taller than the others, grinning as if he had found something amusing. He walked with a swagger that Beatrice was quite familiar with. He had a short mohawk and a leather jacket decorated with small bones. The man on his right was a redhead with a large, beak-like nose. On his left was a big, beefy man with dreadlocks. The woman was extremely beautiful: long, brown hair, full lips and a shapely body that was completed by the black bodice she wore and the tight black pants that accentuated her long legs. She had brass knuckles and manicured red nails.

Beatrice had never seen a woman who looked so cruel and sexy at the same time. What she would give to look like that.

“Already moved on to another fuck toy, Crow? You break my heart, baby. I miss how you fucked me so good,” the woman crooned with a nasty smirk on her face.

Beatrice pulled her hand out of Crowley’s, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She felt an intense hate towards the woman. Oh Jesus, Bea. What, did you think he would have slept with a hag?

“Oh c’mon, Melaina. Everyone knows you’re only satisfied with at least three cocks,” Crowley said, sounding as if he had gone through this a thousand times before.

Beatrice couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The woman fixed her dark gaze on her and Beatrice returned the look.

Bitch.

The man with the mohawk said something to Melaina and she folded her arms, what could have been a pout on her striking face. She did not look very happy.

“Forgive Melaina, miss,” he said in a silky, feminine voice, meeting Beatrice’s eyes, “but she’s a daft creature and has no social etiquette.”

“Better to have no social etiquette than no morals. What do ya want, Delaney?” Crowley demanded.

Delaney reached into his bone adorned jacket and quickly pulled out what looked like a gun, shooting Crowley in the head.

Beatrice screamed when he hit the ground, his pistol still gripped in his hand.

Suddenly she was lifted off the ground and a hood was thrown over her head. The last thing she heard before someone knocked her unconscious was Delaney’s silky voice:

“Don’t worry, love. It was just a tranquilizer.”

~~~~~~~~


AN--
I know, evil cliffhanger. I just couldn't help myself. Thanks for reading!

Btw-
Crowley is not dead. I may be evil, but I'm not that evil.