Supervillain Stalker

1 | i'd say i'm the one saving your ass

The lady behind the counter hands me my plastic bag and a receipt.

"Wow," I huff, taking the two items calmly, "cigarettes just keep getting more expensive, don't they?"

Sending me a tea-stained sneer, the white haired woman clicks the cash register shut again. "I hope you have a nice evening."

I answer her with a tight smile and turn away. "No you don't," I mutter under my breath, reaching to push the convenience store door when someone yanks it open from the outside. Startled, I stumble forward and am caught by two large hands planted solidly on my shoulders.

"Whoa there," a musical, masculine voice chimes.

The man in front of me is unnecessarily tall, his face unnecessarily beautiful, his body unnecessarily thin and muscled. Damp black strands fall into his turquoise eyes, his forehead drenched in sweat, his legs still pumping as if he's out for a jog.

"You okay?" he asks, cocking his head curiously, flashing me an award winning smile. "You look flustered."

"Um...no...I'm, um, I'm fine," I stutter. He chuckles, looking coyly at me from under his lashes. "I just..." My eyes fall to the ground and I stare, surprised, at the packet of smokes lying innocently on the floor. "...I dropped my cigarettes."

Crouching down, I grab the cigarettes. I frown down at the box. Lucky Strikes? I don't smoke these. Glancing over my shoulder, I glimpse the elderly woman counting the money in the till. Instead of complaining, though, I just drop the packet into my bag thoughtlessly and smile up at the man.

"It was nice meeting you," I say calmly. He nods to me with a wide smile, holding the door open for me to walk through. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," he echoes with a grin. "Stay safe."

My answering smile is hesitant and he carries on standing there, watching me, until I turn into a random alleyway out of paranoia. I know, turning into a dark, possibly dangerous alleyway just to get away from some creepy guy on a run isn't exactly the best idea.

"Hello there darlin'," a greasy voice reverberates off of the walls of the buildings on either side of me, sourceless. "What're you doing out here all alone?"

How cliché is this? Huffing, I stuff my hands in my pockets and turn, about to walk away when a burly man steps in the way. He draws a gun from his pocket and flashes it at me as if it's a mere business card. Gulping, I twirl back around.

Four people swarm in front of me, two of which are women with curled, dyed white hair. Their outfits are unusually smart for measly thugs, weapons tucked into belts around their waists.

"Hello," one woman begins with a Cheshire cat sneer. "We need you to come with us."

You're probably wondering why I skipped over an epic fight scene against two women and three men in which I almost won but, in the end, was knocked over the head with a crowbar when some random dude turned up.

Yeah I have a feeling you already know why I didn't go into detail.

I stir, my head lolling to the side, and am about to drift back into unconsciousness when someone smacks my ear with a ruler. Yelping, I moved to cradle my ear but my hands have been bound behind my back.

"Have a nice beauty sleep, Cinderella?" a man asks in a thick Spanish accent as he parades in front of me, brandishing a strip of steel that I had originally assumed was a ruler.

Spitting on the floor, I sigh and smirk. "Really? You think I look like Cinderella? I'm not so sure that blonde hair dye suits me but—"

He strikes me again with the steel, this time on the other ear. A piercing ringing sprouts from within my head like a warning bell and I can feel the warm trickle of blood running over my earlobe.