Saving Me in Secret

When I was a young girl, I used to dream about being rescued by a handsome prince in a far-off castle. Now... that story has come true. Only this story is in the middle of Chicago. I have no idea who that prince is. And he has rescued me exactly four times. Somewhere out there, my prince lives and keeps me safe. And this time, I am determined to find out who he is.

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4. Aaron's POV

"Christopher!" he shouted. "Come back! Where are you?" His lungs burned, and his legs felt numb from running. He had never seen Christopher run so fast. It was like a spell had been cast, like fate had pressed fast forward, and he simply dashed away into the night, into the maze of dark and dangerous alleyways that made up central Chicago.

Aaron slowed down, coughing and panting. He had no idea where he was now. All he saw was brick, graffiti, and the beautiful clear sky above him. He knew it was no use. Christopher was long gone.

"Well, well, if it isn't some rich kid wandered onto someone else's turf," a voice said threateningly. Aaron heard the slapping of a bat in the person's hand, and he knew he was in trouble.

"I'm sorry," he gulped. "I'm looking for someone and got lost. Is there any way you could tell me how to get back home?" He could hear the answer already.

"Sure... but you might want to ask us to show you to the hospital. Because, unknowingly or not, you trespassed on our territory. We need to teach you a lesson." Aaron turned around, managing somehow to refrain from shivering, though his eyes were lined horribly with fear. There they were: the infamous unnamed gang that had caused trouble for the past five years. He was tall and muscular, but he could feel that he stood no choice against these trained fighters. Even before the punch pain started to settle into his gut.

"I will not ask you any such thing. Because I am undefeatable in a fight."

"Oh, really? Then why not test that?"

Curses, he thought. He just aggravated them more. "What I mean to say is, you might as well not fight me. First of all, you will get severely injured. Second of all, I didn't come here to fight. I didn't mean to come here at all."

The leader shoved his fist into Aaron's gut.

He opened his mouth wordlessly in pain. Blood rushed in his ears, and a haze settled over his eyes. He started caughing, and a sickly red liquid spurted from his mouth. "You will not get away with this," he gasped, sliding helplessly to the ground down the abrasive brick wall.

"Oh, really?" The leader kicked him between the legs.

"Oooh," he groaned. What did he deserve to deserve this?

Then a new voice rose above the rest--confident, mature, and oddly familiar though he was certain he had never heard it before. "Really, indeed?" the voice said. He twitched. The ice in the person's voice was so present that it seemed to pierce his brain from inside. "Punishing the innocent is not an acceptable hobby. Oh, I know what you're thinking. I'm just a boy. But I'm not just a boy, you know.  I am... a Master of the Night."

A series of one-sided violent sounds followed. Aaron plugged his ears. He didn't want to hear this. When at last it was over, he opened his eyes and stared up at the figure in the starlight. His eyes widened. "No!" he gasped. The figure he saw was taller and stronger, like some sort of hero. He was hardly able to see the resemblance. But no matter the changes, he was always--always--able to recognize Christopher.

 

 

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