Illusive Eden - He Pretends He's the Hero

Mermaid braided hair, innocent curled free strands falling down the sides, the beautiful woman rests on a black victorian bench.

She's adorned in a coquette blouse, in a warm—light pastel shade of red. A fluttering prairie skirt of white, floating along the swirling breeze.

The air colder, she clenches the beige knitted cardigan closer to her form. She inhales the nature alone, as her husband had went to fetch a strawberry ice-cream she so craved—on a wheeled stall stirring away close.

The dusk whirling in, the day parting away. Green leaves flinches as the faint frosty wind brushes. Endless flower blossoms in the garden of all, the closing of February flying sweetness of floral fragrance in the air.

The lantern burns, gleaming her dark surround. Shadows of silent trees, a little blue mysterious bird sings, hovering over the branch she peers above.

The golden moon in the violet sky, glittering stars looks through the lake, where blooms drifting the lilies white.

The world left to peace and she who sways her head harmonizing with the wilderness.

The corners of Neva's lips arcs up, the fresh breeze floating over her features, the loose hair strands dancing a slow twirl.

"She's some hot woman alone." A boy in the shadiness, pierces his gaze on the woman seated a little far by the lake. He exhales white vapour from out his nose and lips, his fingers pinching a wiry cigarette.

Leaned on a tall oak tree of the garden park, he looks over at his friends in their late teenage—their age which he shares.

They smirk, their gaze frozen at the woman. Wandering out in a gang—for pleasure and to get high. The rebellious boys endlessly seeks thundering andrenaline rush.

Home rough, the mind blurred. The mother screams, the father abuses. Burdened heart, they shut the door to life. Wishing to be born in someone else's soul.

Grades unfulfilled, friends for the adventure. Love not to lose, for they exploit bodies and embers.

The world thrashes the spirit who follows. The lost teenage boys, had just awakened, into the world drowned in lust.

Broken asunder from the road—drawing near the eternal peace, the fallen souls, couldn't tear the bondage of deadly immorals.

"I get to fuck her first." One of the other two remarks, tossing off his cigarette. The taller one, who accompanied the two of his friends, holds his shoulder, halting him from taking another step.

He appears to be a little more decent. He hoped to merge in with them, attempting to fit in, even if, deep in his heart he fears mendling with the evil.

"What if she doesn't want to?" The boy queries, pristine to the darker of the passion.

The first boy chortles out, for their new friend's great humorours.

"Who wouldn't? If she refuses, we ally up and have some fun."

He glances at his forever friend, a smirk lining his face—mirroring the same astrocious intent.

"What?" The third boy shivers in anxiousness. It's bad, their determination is horribly grave.

"Trust me bro, you're in for a lot of fun!" The second boy, his arm hooked around his shoulder, commands the unsure boy, from out the shadows eerie.

Heart preferring it's rapid pace, Neva's serenity spirals to a cease, footsteps muted closening, the smiling face of before, now carved in approaching dread.

She looks behind her, her eyes protruding unnerved.

They end their little hide and seek. The gorgeous girl before them, shrinking the heart's bitterness a little.

They ramble inside their heads, was she a visitor around? Haven't seen such perfect, virtuous looking girl ever before.

The first boy takes the lead, he tilts his head, his demeanour spine—chilling.

They stride towards Neva, she swallows in fright, her hand unconsciously sliding down her comforting womb.

Neva arises on her feet, endeavouring to hurry from there. The first lad grips her wrist tight, she rolls it to free, the grasp hardening she cries out a yelp.

The phone in her right hold, she prays for Rhett. The second lad, forcing it away with a haunting smile on his face.

"Doll, don't be afraid, we mean no harm." The first lad says, licking the surface of her hand.

Neva creases her brows in disgust, eventually freeing her wrist. She attempts to run away, the third boy, with guilty gaze, shielding her way.

She's circled round, the hungry hyenas devouring the little lamb with their blaring regard. They salivate, visioning the wrecked, sinful way they scheme to feast on her.

"Please let me go—" Neva murmers out, hands over her thumping chest. Orbs moist in tears, she chases him to secure her with his warmth.

"Doll, very sexy doll. Since you're very pretty, we'll fuck wherever, however you want." The first lad, with a scar around his eyes sets forth.

A tear drops down Neva's eyes, the second boy bounding her from behind. "No! Please let me go!" Neva screams, squirming desperately, only for her feet to elevate from the ground.

She cries.

They laugh, out aloud, so mercilessly.

"Leave her," His, deep monotonous voice demands. A shrill chill spikes their spines, Neva's eyes lands on him, tears surging out in solace, for Rhett's here, the scene heart–wrenching him bitterly.

His eyes burning in anger. He stands there, his harsh form rumbling a provoke of ruination.

"I said, leave her." His darkened emotionless eyes, slits their drifting courage.

Gulping down, the second lad, hoisting Neva up in the air, has her on the ground safe.

She runs to him, wrapping her shivering arms around, he embraces her, caressing comfortingly her cold hair.

"Stay behind Neva, we'll go home soon." He assures, kissing the side of her head, concealing Neva behind his back.

The package with a tub of strawberry ice–cream handed over in her hands.

Neva stands back alone, tensed, as an insane Rhett launches towards the three rascals.

"We're doomed." Whispers away the third hesitant lad. The intend of killing in a predators eyes, not one to mesmerize oneself.

"Tch, running off like a virgin my ass, I knew she was a whor–" before the first brat could choke out a scorn at Neva, Rhett's heavy fist blasts off at his jaw.

With a hefty thud, he collapses on the ground, lightheaded and stunned of such force, with quivering hand he touches his lips, blood oozing out his mouth.

He's furious, two of his teeth had smashed off.

In the silence of the night, wails blares out their mouths. Rhett clashes the remaining boys, clawing their face, a peculiar cracking noise of their skull—as he thrashes their muddled heads against one another.

He storms them altogether in unbearable punches and unsurvivable kicks. Eyes blurred deranged, he aims for their soul.

Their organs and bones butchered. His fist bloodied, both the hyenas move nowhere an inch.

Quenched with his bloody art, his numb eyes trails to the rascal calling Neva names, crawling back terrified, his limbs greatly strained and stiff to stand.

Rhett hovers above him, raging punches down, sparing not a breath, bursting the hound's face with ripples of hot red fluid.

Neva's hands covering her mouth, her salty tears unceasing. His shades of obscured personality, scaring her great.

Rhett gasps heavily, standing tall on his feet, looking over his handcrafts. The face of the carnivores, unrecognisably slaughtered.

Picking Neva's phone thrown on the ground. He glances back at her, his eyes amusedly softened for her.

Walking towards Neva, he holds her slender wrist. "Let's go home Angel."

And she with a wavering breath, her steps hushed, has him take her anywhere. She's terrified if they had been killed. Glancing behind, nauseous she presses on her tummy. She ponders, if she would dare disobey him anymore.

Swallowing down the pills of calmness, she clutches on to him close, for with her, he's always a different man.

---

In the comfort of their warm cottage, Neva seats herself on the bed, her clear gaze peering at nowhere. Rhett had gone to wash off the blood from his hands.

What was that bizarre scene? Reminiscing back their disfigured, disturbing form, she's nauseous once more.

He appears from out the door, a towel drying his face and neck. Surpressing the queasiness in her stomach, she slowly trudges towards a cabinet—and seizes hold of a first aid kit.

"Come sit here." Neva utters in her mellow voice. His gaze trailing her, Neva places herself on the bed. He tosses the towel on the laundry basket. Nearing her, he takes a seat beside close.

Threading their flickering eyes, Neva swiftly scrutinizes his knuckles red. He had not bled an alarming amount, yet the vague fragments of dried blood concerns her great.

"Does it hurt?" She utters, tracing the edges of the wound. He shakes his head, his eyes lingered on her. "Are you?" He asks, having her eyes trail up to tangle, his orbs sweetened. He had not verbalized a word—their entire way to home.

"I'm alright." Neva smiles, she gets an ointment out. Rolling off the cover of the tube—squeezing out a snub amount, she gently applies the cream over his hurtful knuckles. Blowing breath over his wound, with each graze of her faint fingers.

"I'll never leave you alone anymore." Rhett affirms, his eyes looking through the ache in his heart.

Neva shakes her head in refusal, causing his eyebrows to crease, orbs swirling in anger.

"We attract evil even if we're alone, or with our loved ones. Awful people always assault the helpless, no matter where they are, who they are are, what they are." Closing the first aid kit, she gazes up at him, his change of expression not affecting her.

"It's not your fault, nor mine." She smiles in assurance, and in a breath, he embraces her tight, bewildering her. "But being around loved ones feels a little more safer." Floundered by overwhelming emotions, he inhales her scent, melting in her warmth. He squeezes, sensually, softly the delicate curves on the fringe of her back—just relishing her beautiful presence.