"Esa es la chica?" Oscuro asked, turning to his lieutenant, a barrel-chested Irishman.
"The one and only."
The swarthy, muscular man examined the girl again.
A hot shower, some soap, a bit of makeup--she would truly be a prized possession.
Oscuro motioned to his henchman.
"Let's see if she fucks as good as she fights."
Hesitantly, for he had seen the men who'd pulled the little runaway from the dirty streets of Queens, the other man approached the blonde. Watching her every twitch, he stepped over to the little girl; quickly, he grabbed her arms and forced her to the ground. Shrieking, a slap to the side of her pretty face shut her up.
The Hispanic laughed.
"This little bird nearly killed Mark, Jorge, and Enrique?" Rolling his eyes, Oscuro turned to the door. "Have fun, Bill. Teach your little flower her new profession."
The Irishman groaned--and not from pleasure.
Oscuro spun, his right thigh numb from a sudden pain. Standing atop the lieutenant's twitching body with the ruddy man's belt in her hand, it was the blonde's turn to look over Oscuro. Gone was the timid fear of the runaway, replaced by something cold and deadly.
A moment passed, the air thick with the stench of urine and sweat and sex.
Eyeing the Irishman, Oscuro's dark orbs narrowed.
"You have killed Bill," he said, stating the obvious.
Instead of backing away from the girl, the man strode forward, easily within range of her belt. She lashed out with it, but the tough hombre caught it around his right arm. Yanking the leather strap, he pulled the blonde into him, engulfing her with his brawn.
Holding her tight, he forced her against a wall, locking her feet with his.
Shivering with new-found fear, the runaway squirmed against his bulk.
"Shhh," Oscuro whispered to her. "You learn quickly--nobody will hear you if you shout."
But the big Hispanic did not seek to defile her. Releasing the girl slightly, yet still maintaining control over her movement, he brushed her matted hair and bid her to remain quiet.
"How old are you?" he asked.
The blonde looked away from him, nearly smothered against his white tee shirt.
"Can you speak?" inquired the man, speaking in his sweetest voice.
"I am Natalie S. Hawthorne, I am twelve years old, let me go," she squeaked back.
Stepping back from the wall, Oscuro retreated to the cell's entrance, releasing the girl and keeping her weapon.
"Is that better?" he asked.
"Not much," she replied.
Oscuro peered over the girl again. Short, lithe, and looking vaguely like one of the many anime characters from Old Japan, the blonde had been dressed in rather expensive clothing, however many days ago when she had fled from home. A ripped pair of fine slacks hinted at her shapely legs though the tee she wore underneath a grimy blouse wasn't quite bursting with fruit.
A cheap plastic trinket on her right ring finger caught Oscuro's attention.
Leaning over to the girl, the Hispanic displayed a thin band around his right ring finger.
Cautiously, the runaway examined the ring. A single inscription read 666.
Vaguely disturbed, she looked up at the Hispanic.
"You have killed Bill, my trusted friend," repeated Oscuro. "Diablo honor demands that I seek vengeance--or that you, his killer, take his place."
Natalie frowned and snorted at the gang leader.
"You made up that last bit, didn't you?" she sneered.
Oscuro shrugged.
"It would be a waste to murder such a beautiful flower before it could blossom."
The stray frowned again.
Crouching down on one knee, the tough Hispanic pulled a similar ring off the dead Irishman. Presenting it in the palm of his hand, he beckoned the girl to take it.
"Natalie Hawthorne, I ask you, in the name of El Diablo, to cast aside your former allegiances..."
The young blonde looked down at the fiery ring, the ring that only the chosen few, the lords of the street, wore on their hands.
"...to take up a host of new comrades, to defend them unto your own death..."
With two dainty fingers, Natalie plucked the ring from the Hispanic's palm.
"...and to wear the sign of El Diablo upon your hand, eternally."
Fitting the band around her thumb, the blonde waited as Oscuro stood and unlocked the cell.
"Now, you will tell me where you learned to fight like that."
Striding with newfound confidence down a dark hall in the lowest subbasement of one of El Diablo's brothels, the girl shook her head.
"No, now I clean up, get a few good meals in me, and get some firepower."
Oscuro rolled his beady eyes.
"And I want another ring. This one is too big; it's slipping off my damn finger."
High-speed thrills, spine-tingling chills, and oodles of icky blood spills! Follow the adventures of Natalie
Hawthorne in her quest to take over the psiclone trade in the land where life is cheap and Elerium ain't!
Watch as the mighty Church of Sirius is suckered into buying a crate full of bad implants! Chuckle
wickedly as the corrupt clan of Orison is brought to its knees by way of lawpistols and incendiary
grenades!
Oh, and scream in horror as everybody's favorite band of fascist, Satan-worshipping, nun- beating, baby-killing mindfuckers are utterly defeated... Yes, XCOM has met its match in a thin, half- Japanese runaway and her dozen barfly friends.
Because good soldiers don't die--they just have kids and become parents! The Arc continueth in ABGEPLAGT JUGEND...
("Jaded Youth" for those that don't sprechen ze deutsch.)
8/7/97
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