Just a taste

Peering out from the gutter eyes glow green, a passing dog begins to growl the owner tugging at its lead, and a child sitting outside the small cafe sees the twinkle under the sidewalk. The child stares deep through the gutter bars catching her subject, eyes wide as her tiny mind makes out the visage-green skin, green eyes, wide brimmed hat? The image is confusing, disturbing to the child’s mind and she begins to blubber.
Our Wicked witch flees back below before anyone else could see her, boot clad feet echoing in the sewer puddles. Reluctantly she’s heading back home.
Wicked sighs as she walks lamenting her life, it’s been too long since this girls sniffed between pages. Nothing in the sewers was worth half a shit. FREAKS didn’t read-they drink, but that’s just not Wicked. Removing the glove from her right hand she grimaces-green. Toxic, unnatural-green. A tear escapes her left eye as she just stares at her flesh, still moving. Our girl walks, and walks. Absently entering The Town Below she hears nothing, but echos from the past. She sees nothing, but that toxic skin. Completely unaware of the yellow bricks her feet decided to follow.
She used to be beautiful. She used to have talent. She would have been on the stage. She would have lived normal-but now? These thoughts are what’s crushing her even though other memories keep surfacing she knows, this is her life now. But is there an answer? Could there be hope?
Suddenly she trips. Face first into slick, grimy brick the sound of tiny footsteps all around. She looks up in a panic, yellow little legs dash past in a whirlwind then the sound of inhuman giggling “welcome! Welcome! Welcome!” tiny voices cheer. To Wicked ears though they are all the same. A dozen little men-all the same circle around her.
“Get away from me!” She wails. This is just too much-tiny, glowing, yellow men, giggling like children “get! Get! Get!” She’s standing now.
While the tiny man directly in front of her frowns “well you don’t have to be rude” little hands at his side he kicks out his leg “just saying hello”
Another chimes in from the crowd “thought you might want a taste”
All together “yeah!” Wicked doesn’t know what to do, or what they’re talking about, but she’s seriously disturbed.
The ‘leader’ speaks again “yeah, a taste of something special-for you today it’d be free!”
Another chimes in “it’ll make you feel incredible!”
And another “it’ll make you a lot less green!” The group snickers in their very disturbing way.
“Less green?” She’s interested now. She’d do anything now-until a tiny little yellow man holds out his hand, she recoils. All the tiny little faces frown as the same tiny little yellow man thrust out his hand again. This time she takes it resulting in cheers, they’re all the same person Wicked thinks as shivers run down her spine.
Still circled around her they lead our girl down the rest of the brick road to a little brown shack resting deep within the sewers. They are surrounded by black the only light coming from the yellow glow emitted by the tiny men and of course the glow of Wicked. The stress of the situation lighting her eyes and skin in a brilliant display that’d give most nightmares.
All at once everything is black Wicked cannot see, there is no yellow glow and certainly no green. Reaching out she feels something slick, not wet, not sticky-just slick like oil. She hears a bubble pop, and the sound of muck gurgling and then a mouth covers her own. Eyes wide to no avail-she cannot see! Reaching for her face her arms get pulled down hard to her sides. She cannot breathe. Cannot move. She panics-mind racing our girl fears for her life. She doesn’t give in though, oh no, Wicked knows pain-our girl knows trauma. Memories explode behind eyes as she begins to thrash her head hits a slick solid substance knocking the blindfold just slightly revealing a yellow glow. It’s too late to think, too late to cool down her flesh is burning now. Screaming into the mouth of her captor it’s probing tongue enters her as she is preparing too explode.
She screams and screams.
And screams.
Basically our girl spends about 45 minutes screaming into the slick captives mouth only to grow extremely tired, and limp. She’s let go, dropping down, down, down onto a what feels like a bed. The blindfold fully falls off and she sees the bare mattress she’s laying on, dirty makeshift walls, and the glow-the yellow glow. She pushes herself up hoping to strangle the closest little man she can grab only to find a man, a yellow average sized man, standing, staring, with a grin. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
She flies at him without thinking hands gripping his neck before recoiling-his flesh is slick! “Ugh! I’m going to kill you!” The rage instantly exhaust her as she calls back onto the bed burying her head in her hands.
“I’ve no idea why you got what you wanted.” She looks down at her hands, eyes wide, not green-not green! Looking up the yellow man is gone.

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