"What the hell Rodney!? You upped the price again?!"
Salem snaps at the burly man in front of her, his bulky frame crowding the narrow space. His balding head shines with sweat and grease under the flickering magenta light of the street lamps.
"What can i tell ya candy Eyes, demands for this stuff has risen, so the price had to follow."
she sighs, shivering and sweating, her clothes are soaked. The smell of sweat and unwashed clothing permeate her nostrils. She rests her short stature against the old brick wall littered with crude paintings and stale urine.
"C'mon, you know me, I'm a regular! I only brought enough cash for the old price!"
she says, feigning a smile, her face clammy and pale. The pain of the withdrawals making every second hours of torture. Each flicker in the street light feels like thousands of red hot hammers pounding into her head.
"It's been days man! I'm desperate!"
she says trying to get a small ounce of sympathy from the lard lump of a man. The shivering did not stop no matter how much her muscles spasmed and hurt her. pain dragging on the longer she goes without hexsugar.
"What's in it for old rodney then ey?"
the putrid smelling man says with that recognizable tone. Her heart drops into her stomach. Her burning empty stomach. He puts his chubby club of a hand on her shoulder, pushing down with light pressure. She falls onto the cold dark stone of the alley, the old denims scratched away to reveal thin once white stockings. The cold stone ground hits her hard as she hears his belt unbuckle.
She blanks out, searching for a happier place in her mind than here. Rummaging inside her memories for images of them. She finds what she was looking for and thinks of what their laughter used to sound like. How it never failed to make her smile. How their warm hands shook her awake for her to soothe them. the times she spent sleepless nights making sure the red fever never took them from her. She swims in those memories like a warm ocean, letting the waves of her past engulf her doing her best to keep away from her harsh reality circling her like ravenous sea monsters. as long as she keeps her head above the waves she can stay out of reality.
She crashes back to reality with the abrupt pain of the grip on her short curly hair yanking her up. She tries to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth, nearly gagging. He shoves a small canvas bag at her, the force nearly knocking her backwards. she grabs it greedily, her fingers cracking. She holds the pouch in an iron grip, the knuckles on her fingers a cold bloodless white. She walks out of Rodney's alleyway as fast as she can manage.
Her boots thud softly into the old dark stone roads, the rude scratches on the worn brick housing going unnoticed. She only travels this far from her home for hexsugar. But the price kept upping and her ill fitting boots were wearing thin. She'd been skipping meals just to keep up her dosage. But she needs more for shorter highs, she can't go sober again. She'll Never go sober again.
She keeps walking, her weak legs almost dragging along the uneven roads. her dirt stained hands still gripping the small pouch like it was the only thing keeping her alive. "I will not be that pathetic fuck who uses in the streets." she whispers under her breath, determined to keep some dignity intact after her last interaction.
After a few minutes of unsteady waving steps she stops in a dark alley, the clean white stone lining the town square going unnoticed. Instead she sees an ivory statue on the old town fountain. "That wasn't there a few hours ago?" she whispered, unsure of the origins of the strange statue. It seemed to depict a dangerously thin woman, made even more grotesquely thin by the corset she was wearing. The statue wore expensive silks and satins, beautifully contrasted by plain cottons. And finally its head topped with a tight vibrantly purple bun, although she couldn't place how it was made. The water of the fountain almost made it seem like it was breathing.
Soon she realised it was breathing, that horribly thin thing was a living woman! And why was such a fragile high class woman all alone? In a city like this? On the opposite side of the town square she saw a rather large group. She'd seen them before, they were notorious and deadly. This woman was their next target. She needed to help.