Holding Out For a Hero

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I started this out as an exercise in writing in the first person and it sort of developed in to a cute story. I just want to point out the grammar is intentionally odd to emphasis Kat’s way of thinking. Sasha’s sentences are deliberately mashed to stress her accent and the Russian words are spelt as they are pronounced.

Pleases note this is a work of fiction. All names and gamer tags are made up. The places mentioned are real, and if you haven’t visited Brighton, it is well worth it. In my opinion it is the UK’s version of Venice Beach, just colder with more rain. 😉

Glossary of abbreviations and terms.

ADHD = Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

FPS = First Person Shooter

RPG = Role Playing Games

PvP = Player verses Player

WoW = World of Warcraft (an online fantasy RPG)

CoD = Call of Duty (online FPS game)

ToO = Trials of Osiris (Very competitive PvP section of Destiny, an FPs game)

Tag = Gaming nickname

Platform = Gaming system, usually PC, Play Station or X Box.

*****

I feel as though I should explain a little about myself before I tell you this story. That way you are in possession of the facts and we both know where I am coming from.

My name is Kathrine McKenna, or Kat to my friends. I am not one of those tall athletic, large breasted women with perfect features and salon hair, which seem to exist only in erotic fiction. I am in fact a little on the short side, with hardly any boobs, short untidy tawny hair and glasses. I am about as athletic as a quarter pounder with fries. Not that I am fat mind. I don’t over eat, in fact I often miss meals due to my ADHD and gaming compulsion. I suppose most people would call me a geek, and I guess I am. I enjoy FPS gaming and RPGs. I would rather spend hours levelling my character in WoW than talking to ‘real’ people.

With all that going for me it won’t surprise you to know that I was still a virgin at twenty-one. Not that I was holding out in any way, I just hadn’t found the right person.

Then I met Steve and everything changed in my life.

I was reading through the pages of my CoD clan forum when I came across a post from a player with the tag LilStevo6X. He was basically pouring his heart out about his girlfriend had just dumped him. Apparently, she wasn’t interested in gaming and didn’t like the amount of time he spent online.

Well I had just gone 9 for 0 on Destiny ToO and was feeling a little reckless, so I posted a reply that some girls just don’t get gamers and maybe we should team up for a few PvP matches.

We met up in the game lobby and I heard his voice for the first time. He sounded really nice with a gentle deep voice and we chatted as we gamed. He was fairly rubbish at gaming, but his easy manner and cute laugh made me all gooey.

After a few hours we got on to where we lived, and it turned out he was only a few miles away. As we wrapped up out session, he asked me if I wanted to go for a drink that night, as he had tickets to a gig at the Komedia.

Seeing as I only live in Lewes and the North Lanes in Brighton is around an hour on the bus I agreed. Then he asked for my address and said he would pick me up on his way. Well to say I was blown away would be an understatement. Cute sounding, a gamer and gentlemanly enough to offer me a lift. What more could a girl want? After all it had been raining most of the day and a lift would save me waiting at the bus stop in the wet.

The second my system was shut down I was rummaging through my draws and wardrobe looking for something to wear. I found a dress that I had picked up a few months back for a cousins wedding, rediscovered my best underwear, and dug out a nice smelling bottle of perfume that a friend had got me last Christmas. Then I headed for the shower. On a spur of the moment I decided for contacts instead of my glasses. Normally I don’t wear them for long as I am prone to eye infections, but I wanted to look my best.

It took me around twenty minutes to get ready. Only three hours to wait until he was due to pick me up. Damn.

I ordered pizza.

Typically, I was halfway through a Hawaiian (pizza that is not some dude in a flowery shirt) when the doorbell went. Crap. I opened the door with half a slice of the pizza in my mouth, to a guy a little older than me and quite dishy looking. Crap again.

“You know you have a bit of pizza on your face.” He said smiling.

My legs went to jelly. I couldn’t believe it. He looked as cute as he sounded. I think I threw the last part of that slice behind me somewhere as I hurriedly wiped the last of the tomato puree from my lips. Great first impression.

“Kat21?” He asked.

“LilStevo6X?” I replied nervously.

Again, he flashed that cute grin. “Just Steve is good.”

“Katherine. Or Kat. Whatever you like really, I’m cool either way. Do you want some pizza? I have plenty.”

Great I was gabbling, unfortunate side effect of my ADHD mixed in with nerves.

Then illegal bahis he took my offered hand and kissed it. Wow a real Prince Charming. Jelly legs again.

“I though we could get a drink on the way.” He said flashing that grin again. “So I hope you don’t mind me being early.”

I must admit at this point I wanted to say. “Shame you weren’t here an hour ago when I was in the shower.” But I seriously lacked the confidence to say anything like that.

We got in his car and headed out of town and down the A27 towards Brighton. We had gone less than a mile and Steve turned off towards Kingstone.

“There is a great little pub just down here.” He told me.

A couple of minutes later we pulled in to the car park of a place affectionately named ‘The Juggs’ which I can only assume is about brewing equipment, not women’s breasts. But then again this is Brighton.

As we approached the bar Steve ordered a pint of larger then asked me what I wanted. At this point it would be fair of me to say I am not a big drinker. Yes, I do have a glass of something now and then when taking it easy, but I find gaming and alcohol don’t mix, plus it does tend to bring out the worst of my autism. I settled for asking for a coke.

We took a seat opposite each other.

“So why Kat21?” He asked. “Are you actually 21?”

I feigned a laugh. “Yes, I am twenty-one.” I replied. “But the tag is actually Kat*21 and is a play on Bat*21.”

“What’s Bat*21?”

I sighed. This is a common question because unless you’re film mad (I am a bit of a film buff as well, but I forgot to mention that.) you won’t get the connection. “It’s a Vietnam war film with Danny Glover and Gene Hackman.” I tell him.

“Cool.” He says. Then the interest goes out of his eyes. I can tell he is searching for something to say.

“So how long have you been gaming?” I ask trying to break the pause.

He licked his lips. A sure sign of nerves. “A while now. I did CoD and the one before.”

Now warning bells are going off in my mind. Not only was he rubbish at gaming, but not to call the CoD games by their designated title was a sin. The nerves I could ignore. The lack of skill I could pass off. Not to know the correct CoD title was suspicious. Add them together… well you get my drift, but I’m just gabbling again.

I decided to test my theory.

“So, will you be getting Call of Duty Modern Warfare four?” A simple question. But anyone worth their salt will know Modern Warfare series ended on the third edition.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it.”

Busted.

“You’re no gamer.” I said. Albeit slightly abruptly, but that was all it took to get the full story out of him.

Apparently everything was switched around. It was him that wasn’t interested in gaming, and he didn’t like the amount of time his girlfriend spent online.

I could see the guilt in his face over the lies he had told, and I was about to tell him it didn’t matter, then I think his male ego must have kicked in.

“You do know I only asked you out to get back at her.” He told me, his voice raised a little. “Your seriously not my type of girl.”

I have to admit that stung a little. At the end of the day I hadn’t done anything to him, and I didn’t deserve his anger. Now I am a little introvert and I don’t do scenes, so I settled for walking out.

I was tempted top phone a taxi to pick me up, but at that moment in time I just wanted to get away from there. So I started walking down the narrow lane back towards the main road. At least it had stopped raining.

I wasn’t far from the junction to the main road when I heard a car behind me. I glanced around and sure enough it was Steve.

For a moment I hoped he was going to stop and apologise, then he began to accelerate and that ended that thought.

I suppose this would be a good time to mention that the road I was walking along wasn’t the best in the world, and it was about now I realised I was standing next to a rather large puddle. Now I have done a few online IQ tests (the ones you don’t have to pay to get the results) and mine equated to around one thirtyish (not that I’m bragging), but it didn’t take a genius IQ to realise that when the car hit the puddle I was going to get soaked.

My options were fairly simple. Stay where I was or dive over the wall behind me. There was no way I was going to give Steve the satisfaction of drenching me with his immature actions, so I went for the wall.

I semi envisioned my headlong dive looking something like a slow motion action shot from a movie, like where the hero dives over a wall to take cover from a hail of gunfire. In reality I collided with the top of the wall then rolled off in to a heap on the far side (do you remember where I said I wasn’t athletic? I wasn’t kidding). The worst part of it was, the splash from the puddle went clear over the wall and still soaked me to the skin.

So there I was, trying to get back to my feet amidst a tangle of brambles. My illegal bahis siteleri tights were laddered, my dress torn, my clothing soaked, and I had grazed my knees. It was beginning to turn to dusk and I was beginning to feel cold from the drenching. I pulled out my phone to order a taxi. Just like I should have done when I left the pub, and my world really fell apart. My phone had obviously been between the wall and myself and it was smashed beyond use.

This was just the last straw, and I don’t mind admitting I decided to do the only sensible thing. I sat back down, hugged my knees to my chest feeling sorry for myself and began to sob. I know, after everything that had happened so far, it may seem odd and a little materialistic that I took the loss of my phone so badly. But my life is on that phone. I can remember all sorts of useless crap from lyrics to movie quotes, but important details like appointments and schedules just don’t stick in my head. Without the order my phone brings to me, I become lost in the chaos that life is. I silently vowed I wasn’t ever going out again, and I was going to only interact with the world through the internet.

“Hello little girl. Are you okay?”

The voice made me jump.

A woman with short spiky platinum blonde hair peered over the wall at me. I suppose the hair was the first thing I noticed. I don’t think I have ever seen hair that colour that wasn’t in a magazine or a film. I think the next thing I noticed was that her heavily accented voice was husky and kind of warm, and the way she pronounced ‘little’ as ‘leetle’ made me feel a little odd. I say think, because I was so captivated by her eyes and the way they bored in to my soul I wasn’t really thinking straight. They were blue grey and reminded me of the pictures you see of glaciers. Not that they were cold, more cool with hidden depths.

“You are crying little girl.”

That word ‘leetle’ sent a shiver down my spine for some reason. Although that could have been because I was freezing. I managed to tear my gaze from her eyes and I think I may have blushed slightly as I realised I had been staring.

There was something about her that made me want to say something really intelligent and snappy. Unfortunately, all that came out was. “I got wet and broke my phone.” Then I actually held my broken phone up for her to see. Great first impression (it was obviously a day for those).

The blonde hair disappeared and I thought she had left me on my own again. Then two shiny black boots landed in the mud next to me. The boots were filled with shapely legs covered by tight fitting black denim jeans.

“Sooka sin.” The woman said under her breath as she squelched around to face me.

Above the back jeans she wore a tailored black jacket over a crisp white blouse. A scarlet red tie was knotted loosely around her neck. In all she made me feel even more scruffy and inadequate than I did before.

“Come little girl.” She said to me offering a hand. “We need to get you warm or you will freeze to death.”

I could feel myself withdrawing into myself. With my insecurities and how I was feeling at that point in time, I seriously didn’t want to get up or go anywhere. All I wanted to do was curl up in front of one of my screens with something I had at least some control over.

“Zakolebal.” She said out loud, then bent down. The next thing I knew I was being lifted up from where I sat and thrown over her shoulder. I honestly had no idea just how tall she was, but the ground looked a long way off.

Now I know I’m not exactly heavy, but this woman hoisted me straight over the wall and dropped me back on my feet on the road with very little effort.

“Wait there.” She told me.

I settled for shivering whilst I clutched my sodden jacket around me with one hand, and my broken phone with the other with tears still running down my face.

There was a brief flurry of legs as she practically leapt back over the wall. She muttered something to herself as she took in the splashes of mud on her glossy boots. Then with a shake of her head she wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me towards a sporty looking red Nissan parked in a wide part of the road. As we got closer to the car she pulled a key fob out of a pocket and opened the boot.

I had an odd vision of being pushed in to the boot, then driven off and sold to some Eastern European human trafficking syndicate, like in the film Taken.

As it was she took a thick blanket out of the boot and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“To keep you warm.” She informed me. “And to save my seats.” She added with a grin.

I think for the first time since I walked out of the pub I smiled a little.

As she drove back towards the main road Blondie explained that she had been behind Steve when he drove through the puddle and seen my failed bid to jump the wall.

My emotions got the better of me at that point, and the entire story tumbled from my mouth, from how I had met Steve, right up to canlı bahis siteleri the point where I began to get tearful again at the breaking of my phone.

Blondie glanced over to me, there was a slight smile on her lips, but pity in her eyes. “Don’t worry little girl. I can get you a phone, I have a few spare.”

As we approached the A27, Blondie turned left towards Brighton. It took a few moments to register in my confused brain that she had no idea where I lived.

“Erm, where are we going?” I asked. Images of ‘Taken’ running around my head once more.

“We are going to my place.” She informed me in a manner that didn’t require argument. “We can get you warmed up and some dry clothes, then I will get you a new phone.”

I guess I must have looked a little scared, sat there in her passenger seat wrapped in a blanket, wide eyed and shivering.

Sher reached out a hand and gently touched my knee, which I don’t mind saying, made me feel a little peculiar, in a nice kind of way.

“It is okay. You can trust me.” She told me.

It must have been that reassurance or maybe my mind had just begun to settle down again, either way I actually did feel safe.

Blondie continued to drive in to Brighton and then towards the sea front. As we drove past the Pavilion, she pointed to the eccentric building.

“I love this place. Reminds me of Moscow a little. Crazy English.”

So Eastern European confirmed. Highly likely Russian. And that word ‘little’ still made me quiver in a silly girly way.

We turned by the pier and on to Marine Parade to run parallel to the sea. This was an area of Brighton I only travelled through. Way too expensive for my pockets.

Then we turned in to Royal Crescent.

Now to the non-locals reading this, I just want to point out that the only people who live in Royal Crescent tend to have titles or deals with major record labels. Or even own major record labels. These places only came up for sale once in a blue moon and then with a price tag of several million pounds.

Now images of Russian gangsters filled my mind. You know the sort, all ex KGB generals who have stashed millions away and fled Russia to live in the UK… Yeah maybe I do spend too much time watching films and gaming.

Blondie pulled up outside one of the white three story houses, and led me up to a white door that was nearly as wide as the tiny house I lived in.

“My uncles.” Blondie informed me as she opened the door. “He is ex KGB major and Bratva boss.”

I stopped dead in my tracks as she went through the door. Maybe the films were all true after all.

Seeing that I had stopped, Blondie turned grinning. “Sorry, just kidding. You just looked so worried, I couldn’t resist. Not every rich Russian is a criminal or spy.”

My face burned with embarrassment, but I couldn’t stop myself laughing at my own overactive imagination.

“You have a cute laugh little English girl. You should laugh more often. Maybe then you don’t have to meet boys on the internet.”

I so wanted to tell her that I didn’t make a habit of meeting up with boys I met on the internet. But the compliment about my laugh just made me giggle again as I blushed.

I was marched upstairs to the top floor, and then in to a bedroom that was, actually bigger than my house.

Blondie indicating a door. “Bathroom, take a shower and get warm. Put your clothes in here.” She pointed towards a basket then disappeared out of the room through another door.

Now this may seem strange, but this is the first time I have been in another woman’s bedroom. Not to mention the first time I have been ordered to undress and hand my clothing over to the bedrooms’ owner. So I suppose it is understandable that I was still stood exactly where Blondie left me when she returned.

A frown creased her forehead. Then she shook her head.

“Drink this.” She pressed a large glass containing clear liquid in to my hand. “Now.”

I did jump a little at the suddenness of the instruction. Which could be why I took a quick gulp from the glass without thinking.

Molten lava ran down my throat and in to my stomach, setting fire to my chest as it passed through. My eyes began to water and I entered a coughing fit that would have put a consumptive to shame.

Blondie removed the glass and phone from my hands before I dropped them, then steered me towards the bathroom. I was still coughing when she pulled the blanket from my shoulders, pushed me in to the shower and turned the hot water on.

Now my shower has so little pressure that I have to move around to make sure I get an even covering of water. Not so with this one. Instant hot water pummelled me nearly to the floor and I let out a girly shriek. I starting to think this Russian woman was mad. First she poisons me with liquid fire, then she shoves me in to a shower fully clothed.

It was precisely this point in time when several things happened.

For the first she joined me in the shower, the only difference was, she was nude. Secondly my brain began its shut down process as she started to undress me. After that things got a little hazy, but I do remember realising, rather embarrassingly, that I was enjoying being undressed by her.

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