Categories > TV > WWE > Flames In The Wind
She could smell flames in the wind.
Rena Blackwell cursed herself for being late getting back to her apartment—she’d fallen asleep, again, over her laptop and her notes for the history final at the college library, waking up only when the librarian took pity on her, just before they closed—and so she was left to walk home in the dark. Normally Rena had the luxury of doing this in a group, but tonight had been the exception.
After all, nobody with any semblance of self-preservation in this city stayed out after dark on Devil’s Night.
People liked to think that Devil’s Night had calmed down in the late nineties and the early years of the new millennium, but those who lived in the worst parts of Detroit—much like Rena—could tell you that had been a fallacy from day one. As she rounded the corner towards her apartment building, she sighed in relief; her building hadn’t been hit this year, as she’d feared it would be. Detroit’s pyromaniacs tended to go for the most destitute buildings in the city when they played “light my fire”, and while Rena was willing to admit the place was a dump, it was all she could afford and she was damned glad to have it.
All the extra reading materials Rena would need to finish her part of the group project for her English class, plus her regular load of supplies for her classes had made her walk a little slower tonight, but she was on the home stretch at last.
“I see herbal tea, soft music, candles and a bubble bath in my future,” she grinned, now halfway through the last block before she reached her front door. “And maybe some takeout,” she added.
“Not tonight, princess,” an unfamiliar, baritone voice announced, before Rena felt herself being dragged backwards by the straps of her backpack; she was thrown to her knees in the alleyway, just under the fire escape of the Capone’s pizzeria building.
The straps of her backpack were jerked roughly off her arms, before unfamiliar fingers twisted in Rena’s dark hair and hauled her to her feet. The sound of a lighter flicking to life caught her attention, and jade green eyes darted to her left, where another figure lit the barrel of a blowtorch.
“Don’t mess her up too much, I haven’t been laid in weeks. It’s no fun if they don’t scream.”
Rena barely had time to register what was said, as she’d been roughly spun so that her face now pressed up against the brick wall she was pinned to.
“Oh, she’ll scream alright, but the bossman always gets his turn first,” her captor retorted, leaning in bury his nose in her hair, as she heard the telltale snick of a switchblade opening.
The blade sliced roughly through both the soft yarns her cardigan had been made of, as well as the silky material of her dress. She felt it being peeled towards the front of her body, before the blade moved to the sides of her underwear, slicing it clean off her body. Rena began to sob as she heard her captor unzip his pants.
“I bet that beautiful porcelain skin will look much better after I leave my mark on you.”
And then time seemed to stand still. The other man—the one who had lit the blowtorch—cried out in pain, before another voice, more tenor in tone, spoke up.
“I think if I were you, I’d let go of that young lady and pull my pants up, I hate fighting with someone who’s totally unprepared for combat.”
She heard heavy footsteps, felt something rushing past her, and heard the switchblade hit the ground as two bodies collided behind her; her captor sounded as though the wind had been knocked out of him.
As Rena turned, she saw not one, but three men, all dressed in black, and all wearing masks over the lower halves of their faces that resembled a fanged skull. One stood over the crumpled form of the accomplice, proudly brushing back long hair that was half blonde and half black. Another one, sporting longer dark hair, and a dark complexion stood over her captor, who was struggling to regain his breath.
The third man inserted himself between Rena and her captor, towering over her, as he inspected her well-being. Kind blue eyes—partially veiled with sandy brown hair—met her own and he seemed to sigh in relief as he glanced to his partners.
“Looks like we got here just in time, she doesn’t seem to be hurt,” he announced, and Rena realized he was the man who had spoken moments earlier.
“First good news we’ve had all night. How long until the cops show up?”
This comment came from the darker skinned man, before he delivered a vicious kick to her captor’s midsection.
“I’d say ‘bout half an hour, forty five minutes, judging by the fact that the last cops we saw were all parked at Krispy Kreme when we passed it ten minutes ago. We could probably get them to the jail quicker than they could but you know how they feel about us,” the other man replied, securing his tu-tone hair back into a tight bun at the nape of his neck.
“Gives us plenty of time to secure them while we get her someplace safe,” the first one agreed, flipping back the hood on his jacket, before kneeling next to Rena, where she’d slowly crumpled seconds earlier. “Do you live near here, darlin’?”
“Half a block, I was almost home when—” at this point, Rena dissolved into tears, unable to recount her ordeal any further.
“You’re a tenant there?”
Rena nodded, choking back sobs.
“So that’s what they were doing, they were gonna have some fun and then torch it. That your bag?”
Rena nodded again, and her savior stood up, glancing at his partners.
“I’m gonna get her back to her place, think you can handle these two?”
“Yeah, we got this covered. Think you can secure the perimeter while you’re over there? That leaves Rome and I free to get set up on the fire escapes,”
“Yeah, I’ll scope things out from the roof,” Rena’s hero replied, before glancing down at her, and noticing that her dress was sliced to ribbons in the back.
He shrugged off the hooded sweatshirt, and draped it around Rena’s shoulders, gently coaxing her arms into the sleeves.
“You’re gonna be okay, I’m not gonna let anything else happen to you tonight, I promise. Which floor is yours?”
~*~
He had made friends with Duke, the most anti-social german shepherd in existence.
“Relax, big man, I’m not here to hurt your momma. We’re on the same team,” he’d stated, scratching the dog’s head and paying careful attention to his ears.
“He normally hates everyone except me.”
“Dogs tend to be great judges of character, especially this breed; nice choice by the way, but you should really take him with you when you’re going to be out at night.”
Rena had opted to just nod her agreement, as he’d gently placed her bag on the table in her small dining room. Duke fixed a smug gaze on his mother, as if to say “I could’ve told you that same thing six months ago.”
“Don’t give me that look, you big grouchass, you snarl at small children.”
“Only because he’s protective of you,” her hero retorted, smirking; he’d pulled down the mask, revealing a smile that matched the kindness in his eyes, and a set of dimples in his cheeks that Rena was certain made every woman within eyeshot a bit weak in the knees every time he flashed them.
He glanced around the small dwelling, before his gaze landed upon the big picture window that had caused Rena to pick this apartment in particular.
“Oh, good, your window is the one with the fire escape closest to the roof. I just need to do a quick check of the perimeter from up there. It’ll be half an hour tops, and I’ll be right back, I promise. Slide the deadbolt on your door, and don’t open the window for anyone except me, understood? Those two assholes weren’t working alone,” he warned, before fixing his mask back into place, and exiting through said window.
Rena glanced over to the small kitchen area, silently taking inventory of her current stock of tea.
“Chamomile. A nice hot cup of chamomile with honey, that’s the ticket. And one of those scones from this morning,” she stated, trying in vain to steady her voice.
A cold nose nudged her hand, and Rena glanced down at Duke, whose ears had fanned completely out; the dog was very intuitive, and when the ears fanned, he was not happy.
“Yeah, I’m still shaken up, snugglebutt, great observation. Thank God I have such a handsome, protective boy at home to keep me safe, right?”
This seemed to placate Duke, and he herded his human to the stove, where the tea kettle sat on the front burner, just waiting for her to turn it on.
“Uh huh, you just wanna get me relaxed so you can gorge yourself on beef jerky, I know you. But I’ll indulge you, tonight. Because you’re a good boy,” Rena sighed, carefully and thoroughly stroking Duke’s ears, just the way he liked.
The sound of the tea kettle whistling caused Rena to jump, and she raked a hand through her dark brown locks as she poured the scalding hot water into her favorite oversized mug; she squirted honey liberally into the water, giving it two quick stirs with a spoon, before dropping in two teabags. She sat down the cup long enough to kick off the sensible flat boots she’d worn with her dress and cardigan, before curling up on her sofa, turning on the TV to catch the 10 o’clock news, and sipping gingerly at the sweet, steaming concoction. Two seconds later, she nearly dropped the cup as her hero dropped back down onto her fire escape and tapped on the window.
“Sorry about that, darlin’, didn’t mean to startle you. You’re a tea drinker?” he asked, ducking back into the small apartment, after she unlocked the latch and allowed him entry.
“I have trouble sleeping, unless I’m studying. Tea helps me relax enough to sleep. Tea in the evenings, French pressed coffee in the morning, and soda in between.”
The mask came off his face, as he pulled the sheers shut over the big picture window. With a cheeky grin, he glanced back at her.
“You’re rambling, darlin’. You’re also checking out my ass,” he observed, as he shed his t-shirt, in an effort to get more comfortable.
“I don’t check out the asses of strangers, even if they did just save my life.”
“You make a good point, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Jon Moxley, hi. And you are…?”
“Serena Blackwell, but I go by Rena.”
“Beautiful name for an even more beautiful girl, I dig. So, you live here alone?”
“Yeah, I don’t play well with others.”
“I beg to differ, I think others don’t play well with you. You seem like a nice girl, just a little bit guarded. Not saying that’s a bad thing either, I’m a guarded person myself. It’s your defense mechanism, keeps assholes from getting close enough to hurt you.”
“Your partners, are they…?”
“Yeah, they’re here. Tyler—the guy with the two toned hair—he’s at the back door of the building. Leaki, the guy who nearly broke your would be rapist in half, he’s guarding the front door. I’ll be keeping watch from up here, and keeping an eye on you. We have it on good authority that your pals in the alleyway were going to torch this building, while all the tenants slept. It’s their MO, so to speak, that’s why I told you to deadbolt the door and lock the window. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what kind of a crack team of professionals you have in the Detroit PD, so obviously we can’t depend on them to protect innocent lives,” Jon explained.
“Do you think they’ll come back?”
“Undoubtedly; maybe not tonight, but they’ll be back, believe that. Especially the two assholes we left in the alley earlier. Is there anywhere else you can stay? Relatives you can stay with until this blows over?”
“Nope, I’m completely and utterly on my own, just a woman and her grouchy dog against the world,” Rena replied.
“Is it going to bother you if I swing by in the evenings to make sure you made it home alright? Maybe bring killer here some treats? Thought I told you to relax, big man. I’m not here to hurt your momma, I’m here to protect her.”
This comment was made as Duke firmly inserted his body between that of his mother and her hero, giving Jon a look that said simply “I’ve got my eyes on you, asshole”.
“Duke doesn’t trust anyone around me, especially when it’s the opposite sex. Wasn’t it you that said it’s because he’s protective of me?”
“Yes, as well he should be. Alright big man, I’ll make you a deal. If you help me out, I’ll help you out. You don’t hinder me from looking after your momma, and I’ll bring you a huge bag of jerky next time I’m over. Sound good to you?”
Duke merely grunted in response, before giving his new friend a long, sloppy lick on the cheek.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jon chuckled, before glancing over at Rena. “Mind if I try some of that tea? I could use a little liquid relaxation myself.”
Rena Blackwell cursed herself for being late getting back to her apartment—she’d fallen asleep, again, over her laptop and her notes for the history final at the college library, waking up only when the librarian took pity on her, just before they closed—and so she was left to walk home in the dark. Normally Rena had the luxury of doing this in a group, but tonight had been the exception.
After all, nobody with any semblance of self-preservation in this city stayed out after dark on Devil’s Night.
People liked to think that Devil’s Night had calmed down in the late nineties and the early years of the new millennium, but those who lived in the worst parts of Detroit—much like Rena—could tell you that had been a fallacy from day one. As she rounded the corner towards her apartment building, she sighed in relief; her building hadn’t been hit this year, as she’d feared it would be. Detroit’s pyromaniacs tended to go for the most destitute buildings in the city when they played “light my fire”, and while Rena was willing to admit the place was a dump, it was all she could afford and she was damned glad to have it.
All the extra reading materials Rena would need to finish her part of the group project for her English class, plus her regular load of supplies for her classes had made her walk a little slower tonight, but she was on the home stretch at last.
“I see herbal tea, soft music, candles and a bubble bath in my future,” she grinned, now halfway through the last block before she reached her front door. “And maybe some takeout,” she added.
“Not tonight, princess,” an unfamiliar, baritone voice announced, before Rena felt herself being dragged backwards by the straps of her backpack; she was thrown to her knees in the alleyway, just under the fire escape of the Capone’s pizzeria building.
The straps of her backpack were jerked roughly off her arms, before unfamiliar fingers twisted in Rena’s dark hair and hauled her to her feet. The sound of a lighter flicking to life caught her attention, and jade green eyes darted to her left, where another figure lit the barrel of a blowtorch.
“Don’t mess her up too much, I haven’t been laid in weeks. It’s no fun if they don’t scream.”
Rena barely had time to register what was said, as she’d been roughly spun so that her face now pressed up against the brick wall she was pinned to.
“Oh, she’ll scream alright, but the bossman always gets his turn first,” her captor retorted, leaning in bury his nose in her hair, as she heard the telltale snick of a switchblade opening.
The blade sliced roughly through both the soft yarns her cardigan had been made of, as well as the silky material of her dress. She felt it being peeled towards the front of her body, before the blade moved to the sides of her underwear, slicing it clean off her body. Rena began to sob as she heard her captor unzip his pants.
“I bet that beautiful porcelain skin will look much better after I leave my mark on you.”
And then time seemed to stand still. The other man—the one who had lit the blowtorch—cried out in pain, before another voice, more tenor in tone, spoke up.
“I think if I were you, I’d let go of that young lady and pull my pants up, I hate fighting with someone who’s totally unprepared for combat.”
She heard heavy footsteps, felt something rushing past her, and heard the switchblade hit the ground as two bodies collided behind her; her captor sounded as though the wind had been knocked out of him.
As Rena turned, she saw not one, but three men, all dressed in black, and all wearing masks over the lower halves of their faces that resembled a fanged skull. One stood over the crumpled form of the accomplice, proudly brushing back long hair that was half blonde and half black. Another one, sporting longer dark hair, and a dark complexion stood over her captor, who was struggling to regain his breath.
The third man inserted himself between Rena and her captor, towering over her, as he inspected her well-being. Kind blue eyes—partially veiled with sandy brown hair—met her own and he seemed to sigh in relief as he glanced to his partners.
“Looks like we got here just in time, she doesn’t seem to be hurt,” he announced, and Rena realized he was the man who had spoken moments earlier.
“First good news we’ve had all night. How long until the cops show up?”
This comment came from the darker skinned man, before he delivered a vicious kick to her captor’s midsection.
“I’d say ‘bout half an hour, forty five minutes, judging by the fact that the last cops we saw were all parked at Krispy Kreme when we passed it ten minutes ago. We could probably get them to the jail quicker than they could but you know how they feel about us,” the other man replied, securing his tu-tone hair back into a tight bun at the nape of his neck.
“Gives us plenty of time to secure them while we get her someplace safe,” the first one agreed, flipping back the hood on his jacket, before kneeling next to Rena, where she’d slowly crumpled seconds earlier. “Do you live near here, darlin’?”
“Half a block, I was almost home when—” at this point, Rena dissolved into tears, unable to recount her ordeal any further.
“You’re a tenant there?”
Rena nodded, choking back sobs.
“So that’s what they were doing, they were gonna have some fun and then torch it. That your bag?”
Rena nodded again, and her savior stood up, glancing at his partners.
“I’m gonna get her back to her place, think you can handle these two?”
“Yeah, we got this covered. Think you can secure the perimeter while you’re over there? That leaves Rome and I free to get set up on the fire escapes,”
“Yeah, I’ll scope things out from the roof,” Rena’s hero replied, before glancing down at her, and noticing that her dress was sliced to ribbons in the back.
He shrugged off the hooded sweatshirt, and draped it around Rena’s shoulders, gently coaxing her arms into the sleeves.
“You’re gonna be okay, I’m not gonna let anything else happen to you tonight, I promise. Which floor is yours?”
~*~
He had made friends with Duke, the most anti-social german shepherd in existence.
“Relax, big man, I’m not here to hurt your momma. We’re on the same team,” he’d stated, scratching the dog’s head and paying careful attention to his ears.
“He normally hates everyone except me.”
“Dogs tend to be great judges of character, especially this breed; nice choice by the way, but you should really take him with you when you’re going to be out at night.”
Rena had opted to just nod her agreement, as he’d gently placed her bag on the table in her small dining room. Duke fixed a smug gaze on his mother, as if to say “I could’ve told you that same thing six months ago.”
“Don’t give me that look, you big grouchass, you snarl at small children.”
“Only because he’s protective of you,” her hero retorted, smirking; he’d pulled down the mask, revealing a smile that matched the kindness in his eyes, and a set of dimples in his cheeks that Rena was certain made every woman within eyeshot a bit weak in the knees every time he flashed them.
He glanced around the small dwelling, before his gaze landed upon the big picture window that had caused Rena to pick this apartment in particular.
“Oh, good, your window is the one with the fire escape closest to the roof. I just need to do a quick check of the perimeter from up there. It’ll be half an hour tops, and I’ll be right back, I promise. Slide the deadbolt on your door, and don’t open the window for anyone except me, understood? Those two assholes weren’t working alone,” he warned, before fixing his mask back into place, and exiting through said window.
Rena glanced over to the small kitchen area, silently taking inventory of her current stock of tea.
“Chamomile. A nice hot cup of chamomile with honey, that’s the ticket. And one of those scones from this morning,” she stated, trying in vain to steady her voice.
A cold nose nudged her hand, and Rena glanced down at Duke, whose ears had fanned completely out; the dog was very intuitive, and when the ears fanned, he was not happy.
“Yeah, I’m still shaken up, snugglebutt, great observation. Thank God I have such a handsome, protective boy at home to keep me safe, right?”
This seemed to placate Duke, and he herded his human to the stove, where the tea kettle sat on the front burner, just waiting for her to turn it on.
“Uh huh, you just wanna get me relaxed so you can gorge yourself on beef jerky, I know you. But I’ll indulge you, tonight. Because you’re a good boy,” Rena sighed, carefully and thoroughly stroking Duke’s ears, just the way he liked.
The sound of the tea kettle whistling caused Rena to jump, and she raked a hand through her dark brown locks as she poured the scalding hot water into her favorite oversized mug; she squirted honey liberally into the water, giving it two quick stirs with a spoon, before dropping in two teabags. She sat down the cup long enough to kick off the sensible flat boots she’d worn with her dress and cardigan, before curling up on her sofa, turning on the TV to catch the 10 o’clock news, and sipping gingerly at the sweet, steaming concoction. Two seconds later, she nearly dropped the cup as her hero dropped back down onto her fire escape and tapped on the window.
“Sorry about that, darlin’, didn’t mean to startle you. You’re a tea drinker?” he asked, ducking back into the small apartment, after she unlocked the latch and allowed him entry.
“I have trouble sleeping, unless I’m studying. Tea helps me relax enough to sleep. Tea in the evenings, French pressed coffee in the morning, and soda in between.”
The mask came off his face, as he pulled the sheers shut over the big picture window. With a cheeky grin, he glanced back at her.
“You’re rambling, darlin’. You’re also checking out my ass,” he observed, as he shed his t-shirt, in an effort to get more comfortable.
“I don’t check out the asses of strangers, even if they did just save my life.”
“You make a good point, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name is Jon Moxley, hi. And you are…?”
“Serena Blackwell, but I go by Rena.”
“Beautiful name for an even more beautiful girl, I dig. So, you live here alone?”
“Yeah, I don’t play well with others.”
“I beg to differ, I think others don’t play well with you. You seem like a nice girl, just a little bit guarded. Not saying that’s a bad thing either, I’m a guarded person myself. It’s your defense mechanism, keeps assholes from getting close enough to hurt you.”
“Your partners, are they…?”
“Yeah, they’re here. Tyler—the guy with the two toned hair—he’s at the back door of the building. Leaki, the guy who nearly broke your would be rapist in half, he’s guarding the front door. I’ll be keeping watch from up here, and keeping an eye on you. We have it on good authority that your pals in the alleyway were going to torch this building, while all the tenants slept. It’s their MO, so to speak, that’s why I told you to deadbolt the door and lock the window. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what kind of a crack team of professionals you have in the Detroit PD, so obviously we can’t depend on them to protect innocent lives,” Jon explained.
“Do you think they’ll come back?”
“Undoubtedly; maybe not tonight, but they’ll be back, believe that. Especially the two assholes we left in the alley earlier. Is there anywhere else you can stay? Relatives you can stay with until this blows over?”
“Nope, I’m completely and utterly on my own, just a woman and her grouchy dog against the world,” Rena replied.
“Is it going to bother you if I swing by in the evenings to make sure you made it home alright? Maybe bring killer here some treats? Thought I told you to relax, big man. I’m not here to hurt your momma, I’m here to protect her.”
This comment was made as Duke firmly inserted his body between that of his mother and her hero, giving Jon a look that said simply “I’ve got my eyes on you, asshole”.
“Duke doesn’t trust anyone around me, especially when it’s the opposite sex. Wasn’t it you that said it’s because he’s protective of me?”
“Yes, as well he should be. Alright big man, I’ll make you a deal. If you help me out, I’ll help you out. You don’t hinder me from looking after your momma, and I’ll bring you a huge bag of jerky next time I’m over. Sound good to you?”
Duke merely grunted in response, before giving his new friend a long, sloppy lick on the cheek.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jon chuckled, before glancing over at Rena. “Mind if I try some of that tea? I could use a little liquid relaxation myself.”
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