The City Of Hellius: Rise of the goddess warrior.

Natasha

BANG… BANG…BANG… The noise of my boyfriend ploughing into my friend was like a drill trying to impregnate my brain. I didn’t know what was worse, the noise they were making or the fact that after standing here for more than a minute they hadn’t even noticed me.

I desperately rubbed my eyes. My breath catching, hoping… no begging that this was all a dream, that I was hallucinating but no, no matter how many times I blinked they were still there and I was still frozen in place, watching from his office door. One hand was gripped around the bag of the surprise dinner I planned, the other gripped around the door handle, the cool metal biting into the skin. My fists were getting whiter and whiter, as I tried to focus on the sensations, not what was in front of me.

Ryan’s trousers were down by his ankles, Katrina was spread out on his desk, and he was still thrusting into her like a wind-up toy that has been let loose. Her long platinum blonde hair was hanging over the desk getting more and more tangled as they continued.

I swallowed as my face heated up with embarrassment. Katrina’s and Ryan’s grunts were slowly getting louder and louder, then like a switch something deep inside me shifted like a lock coming loose. My throat felt dry and suddenly I felt like I was the intruder, like I was in the wrong. I could feel my eyes starting to water and my heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again.

I could feel the heat of my rage rising throughout my body and the disappointment at myself, but I pushed it down, I couldn’t lose it. Not here.

Despite my efforts, the force of me pushing the rage back down started to make my chest tighten. It was like I had a thrashing beast inside me; I was starting to hyperventilate. I needed to get out of there. As I turned to walk away, I dropped the bag of Chinese food, which was Ryan’s favourite, on the dirty office floor and bolted for the elevator.

With tears threading to fall and an intense pain in my chest, I pressed the button repeatedly as I heard the office door fly open and slam against the wall. I stepped into the elevator and turned back towards the office, trying to control my breathing. I watched feeling gutted as Ryan’s shocked face locks on to mine and goes pale.

His dark blonde hair was messy, flopping forward covering his eyes. I remember how much I loved running my fingers through it, I guess by the looks of it she did too. His shirt was hanging off his arms, his tanned muscle chest on display. I could see the sweat still dripping down his abs, the reminder of the exercise he had been just doing. Gripping his discarded trousers, he started to walk towards me, frantically pulling them up, calling my name. I could still see he was hard and seeing him like this and hearing my name coming from his cheating mouth made me feel sick.

“Baby, wait!” He staggered as he placed one leg in then the other. He managed to push himself inside and zip up his trousers before he fell flat on his face. “Nat, I can explain. It’s not what it looks like!”

Behind him stood a dishevelled Katrina, her tight black dress hanging down on her shoulders, her boobs still halfway out. Her bright pink lipstick was smeared across her face, and if looks could kill Ryan would be dead by now. I guess she wasn’t satisfied with the service. She suddenly looked up and saw me, and as her brown eyes caught my stare, she grinned at me. She looked smug, like she was proud of what she had done. I realised then that I had been played.

Werewolves have excellent senses, so I didn’t understand why they didn’t hear or smell me coming. He didn’t but she did.

What the fuck! I screamed in my head. Ryan didn’t reach me in time. As the elevator doors closed, I felt my face finally crumple. I sobbed into my hands and grabbed my chest tightly. When the doors opened, I rushed into the bustling street, searching for the nearest cab.

I ended up back at my aunt’s house, just on the city’s outskirts. It was a small house with pale stone brick walls and bright blue window frames, which now looked black in the dark. I jumped out of the cab and looked up at my childhood home as something loosened in my chest. I let out a deep breath, finally able to breathe again.

I walked into the small front garden, gently closing the wooden gate, trying not to make a sound. As I Walked up the pebbled path to the porch, I touch each of the flowers my aunts had planted. Their soft leaves grounding me as I made my way towards the front door. As I stepped on to the porch, I felt the house shudder, and I take a deep breath my whole body starting to realise we were safe.

I have lived here with my aunts since I was a baby, and I love this house. I run my hand lovingly over the wooden deep blue door, I could feel the slight shiver in response the sensation makes me smile. I leaned my aching head on the door frame and inhaled the scent of pine and cedar. I instantly felt an incredible sense of calm wash over me. The house was welcoming me home. I didn’t want to have to deal with Ryan turning up at my apartment. I wanted comfort and home. I chanted under my breath, and the door opened and I stepped into the warm, welcoming hallway.

The sunlight pierced through my window, gently heating my face as I opened my eyes, blinking wildly. The light hurt my eyes, and I turned, pushing my face into my pillow to help ease the pain that was slowly building.

I sighed to myself. I hadn’t slept all night. It was my 25th birthday today, and I was miserable. I replayed last night in my head and sighed. I’d been hanging around with Katrina for about a year now. I met her at my local bar, The Zone when I was dating my last boyfriend, a werewolf named TJ. He found his ‘mate’ the same night I met Katrina, her best friend being the ‘mate’ in-question. I understood about werewolves and their mates, so there were no hard feelings, but it still stung. I remember vividly how Katrina wasn’t impressed by their PDA. That evening, we ended up bonding over tales of bad dates and vodka. I thought she was a good friend, but this also shows that I have bad taste in friends and men.

Last night, I thought I would be the dedicated girlfriend and surprise Ryan at work with a late-night takeaway. Ryan has been working hard lately and is always at the office. I missed him. I guess he wasn’t missing me as much as I thought. The pain in my chest crept back in and my head started to pound as I tortured myself with memories of the last year with Ryan.

Forcing myself out of going down memory lane, I decided to get up and start my day. I dragged myself to the small ensuite bathroom in my old bedroom. Turning on the bathroom light, I looked into the mirror and stared at the face, looking back. I didn’t recognise her.

My long strawberry-blonde hair hung limply down my shoulders, looking like it needed a good wash. My usual bright green eyes were dull, puffy and red from all the crying and lack of sleep. The makeup that I didn’t wash off last night was still attached to my cheeks and flaking off my lashes. I didn’t look my best.

The light still hurt my eyes, but I ignored the pain and turned on the shower.

I stepped into the hot shower and immediately felt my body relax. The sensation of the hot water hitting my face and spreading through my hair was so soothing, making my scalp tingle in pleasure. I found some of my old hair products and as I washed my hair and body, the combination of the scent and heat woke me up, making me feel more like myself again. After what felt like an hour, I decided to face the world and get dressed. It was my birthday, after all, and I knew my aunts would be awake and already downstairs.

I walked back to my bedroom towel tight around me, the sudden cold hair making me shiver. I knew I had spare clothes left in my old wardrobe and drawers. I pulled out an old blue T-shirt, jeans, and underwear. This would have to do until I got back to my apartment. It was a Saturday, and I didn’t have to worry about getting to work on time and looking smart. I quickly got dressed and towel dried my hair.

I slumped back onto my bed and looked around my old bedroom. My room looked the same as it did when I left it a year ago. My old bed still had the same yellow pattern sheets, and my old artwork was still plastered on the pale blue walls. I still had on my cork noticeboard pictures of me and my friends, including Katrina and Ryan. The good times before last night, I sighed and picked up the photo of us messing around by the beach.

Fucking pricks, I thought. How long has it been going on? Why did I not realise sooner? Was it because I hadn’t taken the next step with Ryan?

I had a lot of questions rolling around in my head. I was twenty-five, and I had only been intimate with one person. The experience didn’t go well, so I didn’t think it was worth repeating until I felt it was right.

I had been with Ryan for six months now but had known him for longer than that. It was going well, so I thought. Tonight, after my ceremony, I was going to surprise him and take the next step. I had brought the perfect dress and underwear…everything was planned.

Why did I always have to pick the bad boy? In all fairness he never had behaved like this with others in the past, I never saw this coming. I sighed. I need to stay away from werewolves.

I seem have this unique ability always to attract bad boys, notably werewolves.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard to find a regular guy in a city full of supernatural beings, but I just don’t seem to find normal humans attractive; even warlocks and witches like me don’t give me that spark.

It’s something I need to work on. “At least if I dated a warlock, I wouldn’t have to worry about them thinking with their dick,” I said out loud. They were too busy stressing about their lack of magic.

I threw the picture of Ryan in my old, worn bin and finished getting ready. I finished drying my hair and applied minimal makeup. I’m lucky to have good skin and I’m not keen on wearing too much. I got up from my dressing table and walked to my door, slowly opening it. I looked over my shoulder back at my room and sigh in annoyance, I left my curtains half-opened, and the room was in a mess. I hadn’t even made my bed.

My aunts wouldn’t be happy about me not cleaning up after myself. I focused on what I wanted to happen and snapped my fingers. Instantly, the curtains slid back, exposing the window. The towel I had used flipped up and flew back into the bathroom, and my bed sheets worked their way back up the bed. I smiled, at least I can always rely on my magic and myself.