06-02-2014, 10:01 AM
Connor couldn't see Jensen's eyes, but from the way he stood frozen, helmet swinging from the body to rest on him made it clear that he was shocked. Now that the blood-lust had left his body- or rather, had expressed itself on Pony-tail’s body- Connor himself felt shocked, numb.
“Connor,”
Jensen breathed. He quickly moved to the Pony-tail’s side, ripping his helmet off, dropping to the floor and putting his hands on the man’s body. Connor wondered what he was trying to do. Could he heal? Connor shook his head. It was one thing to know there was magic, but it was something else to see it used.
He thought of Ayden. Now, more than ever, he wished he was with her. She was at home, sleeping on the couch. It was only 2 days and yet already he felt that she was his home. Instead he was in this place, this pit of suffering, having just killed a man for abusing a little girl. He looked at the girl, really saw her, and his heart broke. His rage was still in the background. But now, now he saw the pain inflicted on her little body. But more than that, he realized the pain he had caused her. He had beaten a man to death in front of her. How was he any different? He had given in to his own desires and just vented, not thinking about the affect it would have on her. He wasn’t sorry the man was dead- the man deserved to die a thousand times over- but he was deeply ashamed at adding to this little girl’s suffering and emotional abuse.
Jensen looked up at him and that shame flooded him. Jensen looked like a child that had seen his parents do something horrific and struggled to process it. “You killed him?”
Jensen got up, moved listlessly to the girl. Connor struggled to find the words. Jensen gently laid his hands on her, eyes closed. He looked pained.
Connor finally spoke desperately. “What he was doing, Jensen…what I saw.”
His lip curled in disgust, shame lessening. “You can’t tell me you’d not have done the same. He was slapping her and forcing her to…”
He trailed off, trying to get the image out of his mind. He needed him to understand. He remembered Jensen seeking comfort in the Bible. “’But whoso shall offend one of these little ones… it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.’”
But Jensen’s face was concentrating and he appeared not to hear anything. Suddenly, the little girl threw her arms around Jensen’s neck, fiercely hugging him. Jensen let her go and put his helmet back on. Again, Connor wondered why he was wearing it.
And then Jensen said something that provoked the little girl and Connor felt that shame all over again. The little girl’s face- she was so very young- twisted into one of hatred and she went over to the man and kicked him in the stomach, appearing to relish it. Connor’s stomach twisted too, and he went to the girl, tried to stop her. What have I done? he thought.
"We need to get out of here as quickly as possible,"
said Jensen, voice muffled through the helmet. Connor nodded. Just then he heard a commotion and both of them ran to the door to the hallway. One of the girls was running to the other end of the hall and opened the door.
"She's gone to tell! I tried to stop her!"
said the other girl.
“Oh no,”
said Jensen flatly. Connor's heart sunk. So much for sneaking them out. Any moment the man guarding the other side of the door would come out, gun in hand. Connor turned around and saw the semi-automatic gun on the floor next to the cot. He grabbed at it.
“Jensen, you have to get the kids together! Get them to the exit! NOW!”
This was happening all too fast. He wasn’t this kind of guy. He had fired guns many times- what kid in the southwest didn’t grow up hunting and shooting. But this was different. But there wasn’t time to dicker. What are we doing? But they had to get the kids out. “Now Jensen! Get the kids to the exit. I’ll try to hold them off.”
Gah! I'm such an idiot! Like he was some action movie star. He was terrified. But if gave into it, they’d be dead and then these kids would go back to being abused and tortured. And killed, he thought. He knew how things worked, what often happened. His resolve hardened. He ran to the end of the hall where the girl had gone.
He had to keep them on that side of the door. There were too many guys. He struggled to remember how many he had seen. 4? 5? He fired a couple rounds from the semi-automatic into the door. If he could just keep all of them there, scared to come through the door, then Jensen and the kids would have a chance. He looked back and saw bedlam in the halls, as kids ran screaming, the older girls from before trying to herd them. He didn’t have to time to do more than glance, as a suddenly bullets riddled the door from the other side. It splintered but no bullets came through. Soviet era doors, he thought thankfully. It would hold. For now. This was going to be bad though. He thought of Ayden. He really wished he was home with her.
“Connor,”
Jensen breathed. He quickly moved to the Pony-tail’s side, ripping his helmet off, dropping to the floor and putting his hands on the man’s body. Connor wondered what he was trying to do. Could he heal? Connor shook his head. It was one thing to know there was magic, but it was something else to see it used.
He thought of Ayden. Now, more than ever, he wished he was with her. She was at home, sleeping on the couch. It was only 2 days and yet already he felt that she was his home. Instead he was in this place, this pit of suffering, having just killed a man for abusing a little girl. He looked at the girl, really saw her, and his heart broke. His rage was still in the background. But now, now he saw the pain inflicted on her little body. But more than that, he realized the pain he had caused her. He had beaten a man to death in front of her. How was he any different? He had given in to his own desires and just vented, not thinking about the affect it would have on her. He wasn’t sorry the man was dead- the man deserved to die a thousand times over- but he was deeply ashamed at adding to this little girl’s suffering and emotional abuse.
Jensen looked up at him and that shame flooded him. Jensen looked like a child that had seen his parents do something horrific and struggled to process it. “You killed him?”
Jensen got up, moved listlessly to the girl. Connor struggled to find the words. Jensen gently laid his hands on her, eyes closed. He looked pained.
Connor finally spoke desperately. “What he was doing, Jensen…what I saw.”
His lip curled in disgust, shame lessening. “You can’t tell me you’d not have done the same. He was slapping her and forcing her to…”
He trailed off, trying to get the image out of his mind. He needed him to understand. He remembered Jensen seeking comfort in the Bible. “’But whoso shall offend one of these little ones… it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.’”
But Jensen’s face was concentrating and he appeared not to hear anything. Suddenly, the little girl threw her arms around Jensen’s neck, fiercely hugging him. Jensen let her go and put his helmet back on. Again, Connor wondered why he was wearing it.
And then Jensen said something that provoked the little girl and Connor felt that shame all over again. The little girl’s face- she was so very young- twisted into one of hatred and she went over to the man and kicked him in the stomach, appearing to relish it. Connor’s stomach twisted too, and he went to the girl, tried to stop her. What have I done? he thought.
"We need to get out of here as quickly as possible,"
said Jensen, voice muffled through the helmet. Connor nodded. Just then he heard a commotion and both of them ran to the door to the hallway. One of the girls was running to the other end of the hall and opened the door.
"She's gone to tell! I tried to stop her!"
said the other girl.
“Oh no,”
said Jensen flatly. Connor's heart sunk. So much for sneaking them out. Any moment the man guarding the other side of the door would come out, gun in hand. Connor turned around and saw the semi-automatic gun on the floor next to the cot. He grabbed at it.
“Jensen, you have to get the kids together! Get them to the exit! NOW!”
This was happening all too fast. He wasn’t this kind of guy. He had fired guns many times- what kid in the southwest didn’t grow up hunting and shooting. But this was different. But there wasn’t time to dicker. What are we doing? But they had to get the kids out. “Now Jensen! Get the kids to the exit. I’ll try to hold them off.”
Gah! I'm such an idiot! Like he was some action movie star. He was terrified. But if gave into it, they’d be dead and then these kids would go back to being abused and tortured. And killed, he thought. He knew how things worked, what often happened. His resolve hardened. He ran to the end of the hall where the girl had gone.
He had to keep them on that side of the door. There were too many guys. He struggled to remember how many he had seen. 4? 5? He fired a couple rounds from the semi-automatic into the door. If he could just keep all of them there, scared to come through the door, then Jensen and the kids would have a chance. He looked back and saw bedlam in the halls, as kids ran screaming, the older girls from before trying to herd them. He didn’t have to time to do more than glance, as a suddenly bullets riddled the door from the other side. It splintered but no bullets came through. Soviet era doors, he thought thankfully. It would hold. For now. This was going to be bad though. He thought of Ayden. He really wished he was home with her.