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What Lola wants, Lola gets...or does she?

Red eyes fell on her. In her periphery, she saw the unlucky passenger sitting motionless, lost in the vision of the creature across the car.

"Sir, you need to exit the car," she demanded, clutching the dagger closer to her thigh. "Sir-" he lept up and pushed her backward, catapulting her against the seats. Her pale legs flew above her head as she smacked against the wall. The beast let out a ground-shaking growl as something shot through the air beyond her head.

The world swirled back into place as she came to her feet, and the mineworker had engaged the spider. The spindly legs lashed. The man swung back, grunting as his wrench clanked against the beast.

"Please get out of here-" Emeline reached for the man, her other hand rushing toward the weapon concealed in her stocking. The train jostled; her feet stumbled. He clutched her arm silently and whirled her helplessly behind him. "HEY!" She snapped, angrily. A blade-like leg thrust past the man's head. Emeline's head moved effortlessly aside as she pushed the man. "Be careful. You have no idea what you're doing. Just let me-"

"Step back!" he commanded. Again, she pushed him aside, a silvery knife in hand aimed at the spider's bulbous, hairy body. Her arm moved in for the kill, avoiding the man's gaze, hoping to finish the job before he chastised her further. As she drew closer, the spider's fangs, long needles of white and grey, reached for the man's arm just as Emeline's dagger found its way through the beast's gut. It let out a hiss as black spit onto Emeline's purple gown. The creature ripped its head back, dagger stuck through its flesh. It's head and fangs turned to Emeline, who stood empty handed, trapped between the man and the wall to her back. The black throat of the beast came closer, and the man drew his foot high into the air above the spider, and came down with his heel, squashing its brains across the velvet floor. Emeline exhaled. Without warning, she was pinned against the wall, toes hovering above the ground as the man stared through her, as if trying to deduce her story.

"Aren't you charming" he said in a mixture of sarcasm and awe. She rolled her eyes.

"Please. I have things to do."

"Don't give me that. Who are you." She shook her head. The man's grip remained tight. She grasped him arm, hoping to throw him off. It was thick, pumping with bloody adrenaline. Her second hand followed, but she was unable to hold on to the trunk-like arms with her small fists. A stillness fell on them; neither was ready to give in. Her body began to writhe, slowly at first, and then frantic with need to escape. Their eyes met, but he was unyielding. Her fist tightened and she threw a punch against his strong jaw. He cringed, and shook her in his hands.

"Don't do that again."

"Put me down," she demanded, and hit him once more, legs kicking. He slammed her against the wall purposefully. He were struggling, but not with fear. His blue eyes were foggy as his breath became shallow, stuck in his throat like an angry tremor.

"If you do that again we are going to have a problem," he said through clenched teeth. His eyes flickered down tentatively at her body before shooting back to her face. "I've already won, so just answer me." As he watched her face, her hand slowly trailed down to her purse. He shook his head and grabbed the tiny wrist in his fist, keeping her pinned within the span of his left hand. An angry fervor pulsed through her veins.

"Is this how you treat people who save you?" She asked. He responded mechanically.

"Your clothes say you are a local, but your weapon tells me otherwise. You're from the Other City."

"Me? God, no." In a blink, she whipped her left leg up and kicked him square in the gut, sending him tumbling back. He brushed the dirt from his shirt and smiled:

"your form is terrible.

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