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AgonyTerror	By : SparksDonnen Category: M through R > Newsies Views: 1819 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-AgonyTerror
- 1
Sparks
stumbled down the alley, leaning on the wall for support, feeling her
legs shake from exhaustion. It was late, far too late for a girl to
be out on her own. She should have listened to Spot's warning and
just stayed in Brooklyn for the night. But she hadn't wanted the
others to worry and had decided to go back to the Manhattan Lodging
House. It hadn't seemed like a bad idea at the time, it hadn't seemed
like it would be hard to get home. She'd only been a few blocks from
Duane Street when she finally noticed the shadow creeping along
behind her.

"Oh,
come on!" The shout echoed angrily around her, filling her mind
with fear-images of dozens more shadows closing in on her. With an
effort she fought down the panic and darted through the shadows as
quickly as she could, her lungs burning and her throat tight with
fear. The alley was narrow and she stumbled through the garbage,
biting back a yelp as she tripped. She heard the heavy footsteps
behind her and grabbed the bottom rung of the fire escape and started
pulling herself up the ladder. She was about five feet off the ground
when she felt a hand close around her thigh, jerking her down again.
She hit the ground and felt the air rush from her chest, she groaned
and tried to push herself up, crying out as the shadow cut out the
pale light from the street.

"Shut
up." Suddenly his face loomed into view as she blinked dizzily,
her ears filled with the roar of her heart pounding, her head aching
from the fall. She struggled against the hands that grabbed at her
wrists, easily forcing her arms over her head; kicking at the heavy
weight settling over her waist, pinning her to the ground. Terror
surged through her body, and she writhed, desperate to get free,
trying to catch enough breath to scream - she was only a few
buildings down from the Lodging House, maybe they'd hear. Maybe
they'd come to help.

Hope
died as a dirty rag was shoved in her mouth. She gagged on the sweaty
dust that filled her nostrils, choking on another scream as one hand
slithered down her body, massaging her chest roughly through her
coarse shirt.

"Don't
fight so much, ya know ya want this." His last words were
punctuated by a sickening slicking feel along the side of her face as
he traced his tongue from the bottom of her ear to the edge of her
jaw, then along to her chin before he raised his head to smirk at her
again.

She
felt a single tear trickle down her cheek with terrified realization
of what was about to happen. NO! Even as her mind screamed for
her to fight, she felt her voice die in her throat.

He
pulled off his belt and used it to lash her hands to the bars
covering a window into a basement room of the building she had
attempted to escape up. Another sickening feel of his tongue and
teeth over her skin, producing a whimper from her. His excitement
growing at the power he held now - she was afraid and he liked that.
Moreover, she was still winded from trying to evade him and her chest
heaved, her eyes were wide, and she was still struggling - but he was
in control. He adored her elfish features for a long moment, small
nose, small mouth, full lips, fine cheekbones, defined jawline, those
intoxicating eyes that radiated her terror, even her boyishly short
hair held a rough prettiness. Enough looking. He smirked and
reached for her throat.

She
winced as he grabbed the collar of her shirt and jerked down her
body, tearing the fabric open. Another weak cry around the dirty rag
in her mouth as the force bruised her neck. She stared at him, he sat
back and stared at the line of skin running from neck to navel now
visible, making no move to open her shirt further, just staring down
at her enthralled with the slow, determined pace. She shuddered as he
licked his lips hungrily.

"Mmm,
you're so clean." He pushed her shirt open then, sliding his
hands over her now bared breasts, her skin was creamy-white even in
the dirty light that filtered in from the street. Soft, smooth,
delicate, everything he'd imagined; everything he'd craved;
everything he'd been so sickened to be denied. He bent his head and
sucked one nipple into his mouth, feeling her try to squirm away, and
bit down, satisfied by the sharp squeal of frightened pain that
resulted.

Still,
it wasn't enough, he reached up and began to roll the other nipple
between his fingers, pinching hard as he grated his teeth; her sobs
only increased the pressure he used, determined to make her pay for
not being his from the start. He could feel her nipples hardening and
knew that he controlled her now, despite her terror. The power made
him almost giddy.

Suddenly
he jerked back, his face was flushed, she could see that even in the
dim light. But the most terrifying thing was the physical want she
could feel pressing against her stomach as he straddled her. She
tried to pull away, but couldn't move; his weight holding her in
place, her arms useless in their bindings - already her fingers
tingled painfully. The blow came out of nowhere and stars exploded
behind her eyes, leaving her choking for breath as his weight left
her hips to be replaced by his hands. She tried to move, to get away,
confused; then she understood as he pulled her clothes roughly from
her. Another terrified whimper choked past the rag and she squeezed
her eyes shut against the tears, the light, the vicious smile inches
from her skin.

Kisses,
rough and messy, trailed lower, down her chest, over her stomach. And
still lower as his hands caressed - no groped - down her thighs, then
slid to the inside of her legs and forced them apart. Terror swelled
in her mind as she felt his kisses reach the juncture of her legs,
producing a bizarre blending of sensations. But she clung to the
terror, refusing to let herself think of anything but the horror.

He
wanted her, almost painfully in need by now, but her terror wasn't
enough. He nibbled at her body, moaning as her muffled scream of
terror echoed dimly down the alleyway, her hips jerking as she
struggled to get away from him. But that was what he wanted, he
wanted her to struggle against him, he wanted to feel her heart
pounding against his fingers as he ran his hands over her chest. Her
sobs became more insistent as the fight died.

She
shuddered and twitched as her ran his tongue over her again, wanting
to die as her body began to burn. His rough touch was forcing her
body to react as he desired. Every moment more terrible, every touch
more violatingly intimate, she clenched her fists as she felt his
tongue sneak into her body, her back arching as she struggled to get
away from him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizing
numbly that she was trapped and helpless. This thought paralyzed her
body and she fell limply against the cold ground, tears pouring down
her face, burning clear tracks through the dust and grime of the day,
soaking into her short hair.

"God
... " He almost didn't recognize his own voice as he slid his
hand down to his own pants and struggled for a moment against the
fabric, now tight over his aching hardness. He pushed the fabric down
and groaned in anticipation as he dipped a finger into her wet heat,
her frightened whimper making him want her more. Trembling with
excitement, he pressed another finger into her, feeling her start to
slicken around him. He added another finger, stroking her hard,
building the pressure. With maddening purpose, he withdrew his hand
and stroked his wet fingers over himself, moaning and stroking
himself harder; he had imagined this moment for so long, he almost
forgot it was real.

She
refused to look, hearing the animalistic moans as he crouched between
her legs. His hands again moved over her chest and she flinched away
from the sticky touch, disgusted and terrified. His mouth again
closed over one breast, and for a moment the only touch was the
disgusting sticky feel of his tongue on her skin, then his hands
pushed her legs further open and she gasped against the sudden
pressure on her body as he pushed into her. The pain was horrific,
completely overwhelming her as he pressed deeper, stopping only when
she felt an agonizing press deep within her. She was choking now,
unable to breathe from the terror and intense pain.

He
moaned, holding himself inside her body, she was so small that he'd
known she would be tight. But he'd never imagined she'd be untouched.
He rocked slowly against her, testing her barrier viciously, watching
her face contort as he caused the pain to build. Suddenly he could
take it no more and pulled nearly out of her, then slammed forward,
driving his hips down all the way to her own. Her scream echoed in
his ears, even around the gag, the noise was painfully loud. But he
didn't hear it, thrusting madly against her now, she was his. His!
All his! He had her now, he would take what he wanted from her and
leave her with nothing. He grinned insanely and continued to pound
his hips against hers.

Each
thrust only drove the pain deeper into her stomach, each crushing
meeting of their bodies pressed her back and shoulders against the
rough cobblestones, bruising and cutting her skin. She sobbed weakly,
praying for death to consume her before he could do anything else to
her - the shame of this moment burning deep into her mind.

He
drove himself into her over and over, speeding up still more until he
felt his stomach clench and he grabbed her hips and pulled her up to
meet him with a delighted cry, feeling her body swell around him as
he exploded deep inside her. He could feel her every heartbeat
surround him, her shuddering sobs coursed over him, increasing the
sensations. He dropped his hands to the cobblestones and stared down
at her, sweat covered both their bodies, but still she whimpered. He
began to rock against her again, groaning and closing his eyes in
ecstasy as he felt himself begin to harden within her body again.

Time
was lost to her and finally, somewhere between midnight and dawn, he
finally finished with her and stumbled out of the alley, fastening
his belt and heading for his own home. She lay in the alley, slowly
managing to roll onto her side and curl her legs up to her chest, her
body was covered in bruises and cuts, dried blood caked the back of
her head, her shoulders and back, and the inside of her legs. She
clutched her arms over her chest and sobbed harshly as she was sick.
Finally, exhausted and too lost in her own mind, she lay still,
sobbing weakly and staring blindly ahead. It was then that footsteps
for the second time echoed down the alley as someone ran toward her.

The
smell of sex was sickening and Blink was hard-pressed to not gag at
the stench; choking back a cry of shock as he recognized the small
form huddled amidst the garbage, naked and shivering as she lay
helpless in the shadows. He paused only long enough to tug off his
coat and wrap it around her before gently scooping her into his lap,
holding her close and begging her to speak to him. But she only
stared ahead, shaking and scraping her nails over her bite-bruised
collarbone.

***********

Days
passed and Sparks lay on her bunk, curled under the blanket, staring
at the coarse material. Her back and shoulders and side ached
stiffly, burning from the strong medicine that had been pressed into
them. Her body was covered in bruises and her chest was peppered with
bite marks. But she barely uttered a sound, sobbing occasionally in
her sleep, but nothing more.

Everyone
knew what had happened, and it took little guesswork to know who had
done it. There was only one person who had actively pursued her after
Blink had chosen her as his girl. Only one person was stupid enough
to risk such a stunt. Oscar DeLancey. And if everyone was sure of who
had done it, there was no guesswork in what would happen when they
found him. If they could find him.

Of
the Manhattan newsies that lived in the Duane Street Lodging House,
only one seemed uninterested in the search for Oscar. Blink had
forgotten everything but Sparks, he never left her side, trying to
coax her to eat or drink or speak when she was awake, hovering close
while she slept, wishing he could drive away the nightmare-memories
that plagued her. He learned most of what happened this way, as she
relived over and over the entire ordeal. Until he could take it no
more and shook her awake at the first whimpers that warned of another
reliving of the event.

***********

"Wake
up."

Mismatched
eyes snapped open in horror at the whisper, and she stared past him,
shaking and breathing hard. Blink's heart sank, she still didn't know
where she was, she still didn't know who he was. He reached out and
watched her flinch away from his touch, the tightness in his chest
increasing, pain filling his mind as his hand dropped. Frustration
and worry were driving him over the edge of insanity, he felt so
helpless and he couldn't stand it. His shoulders drooped and he
rested his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees to support him
as he felt the first hot tear touch his palm. He raised his head and
stared at his hand in shock, he hadn't cried in years, he wasn't
aware he could even cry anymore. A small hand slipped into his and
trembling fingers wiped the tear away before closing around his hand.

"Blink?"
Her voice was soft, frightened and full of questions that he had no
answer for.

He
smiled despite himself and moved onto the bed, offering her a hug
which she very slowly accepted. He could feel her muscles tight under
his arm, and he knew she was shaking from fear still, but she was
aware of him again. "I'm heah."

"I
.." She shook her head, her voice catching. She wanted to tell
him, but shame prevented it.

"I
know." He looked sadly down at the frightened little girl she
had been reduced to. Where was his bright, brave, sassy girl; what
had happened to so transform her?

"It
... it was-"

"Oscah,
we know." His voice hardened in anger. When I get my hands on
dat bastahd ...

"No."
She clung tighter to him, staring past him, seeing again the face
that had haunted her for days. "It wasn't ... Oscar."

"Den
who?" He turned so they were facing, desperately searching her
eyes for a reasonable answer. Who else could it have been?

"Morris."
She trembled and curled her legs up, hugging them to her chest and
bowing her head as a sob wracked her body.

Blink
sat silently, shocked for a long moment before he moved close and
pulled her into his arms again. He held her as she clung to him,
sobbing, begging him to forgive her. He felt her tears burn across
his shoulder after they had soaked his shirt, but still he could do
nothing more than to hold her. He had no words now, he could only
hold her and kiss her hair and try to show her that she was safe now.
- 1
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