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I was lost.

I was wet through.

The cold rain was battering my face mercilessly.

I was running for my life.

Each step of my four inch heels on the hard concrete was like a knife through my body.

My pursuers, an assortment of devils, ghouls and demons were gaining on me.

The blood trickling down my forehead was making it hard to see.

I was going to die.

Why?

Four hours earlier

I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror for what seemed the trillionth time. It was too late to back out now but I wasn’t looking forward to the evening at all. I was going to get clocked all night.

It was Liz’s fault.

It was her idea to wear short sexy vampira costumes to Halloween night at the Way Out, rather than our usual long flowing witch outfits. A great idea for her five foot five slenderness, not so good for six foot of oestrogen induced plumpness.

I picked up my bra inserts and positioned them to give myself the slightest of cleavage before attaching the choker and the collar to the outfit.

There was a knock on the flat door. I quickly picked up my previously worn peasant skirt and top and stuffed them in the overflowing washing basket by the door of the bedroom. I grasped the majority of the piled up newspapers from the sitting room/kitchen table and put them in the recycle bin before opening the door.

“Hi Moll,” said Liz as she stood grinning in the doorway, “You ready yet?”

“Almost, want to come in for a bit,” I responded, beckoning her in with my arm.

She glided past me into my student flat, a vision of sexiness as her lucky genetics made her fill out amply her version of the costume, “Only for a few minutes, Moll, the car’s in a short stay parking place.”

“Glass of wine?” I asked, after Liz had made space for herself on the lumpy sofa by arranging the research journals in a tidy pile on the side table.

“Please, but only a small one, I’m driving, remember.”

I quickly poured two glasses from the half empty bottle. A large one for me and a smaller one for Liz.

“You look fantastic as always, Liz, love your hair,” I commented as I handed her the wine glass.

“Thanks, it’s a new salon on Tottenham Court. Your outfit makes you look pretty scary.”

“Yup, fat, frumpy and fearsome all in one go,”

“I’m sorry, Mol, I thought it would suit you too,” said Liz, soothingly.

“So how’s the thesis coming on?” she asked, changing the subject, after taking a sip of her Chardonnay.

“Slow, maybe another year, quicker if there are some results at Cern when I’m over there.” I replied.

“I won’t ask you to explain what you’ll be doing there. I didn’t understand it even in Cardiff doing your degree, I fell asleep last time you told me about Super Symmetry,” Liz responded, laughing at the memory of me droning on for ten minutes to her in bed, oblivious to her sleeping, until she started snoring.

I smiled and took another mouthful of wine remembering the bitter sweet ending of our relationship. We had met, as two guys, at a BiCardiff social and hit it off straight away despite our dissimilar courses, me Physics, her dress design.

Finding that we were both trans made us very close for a while even though we often appeared as a straight couple in public. Liz was very pretty even before hormones. However once we began to transition in our final years her greater interest in men than women meant breaking up amicably was better than losing her friendship, even though I was still in love with her.

There was a silence between us for a couple of minutes until Liz finished her glass and stood up, “Come on girl, we need to get motoring. The night is young and we need to get to Way Out before all the decent men are taken.”

I picked up my purse and followed her down to the street outside the City University flats.

Soon Liz was driving us in her brand new Mini MG convertible in the busy evening central London traffic.

“Nice car, Liz, how come?” I asked.

“Got a bonus after my last collection,” she replied, “You like it?”

“Like crazy, but no chance of ever affording one on my studentship salary.”

Liz chuckled, “You’ll just have to hope you score with some right old banker tonight and make good use of all his assets.”

We both laughed at her attempt at a double-entendre. For the rest of the journey we relaxed

While she negotiated our passage to the Way Out Club we chatted about our jobs and mutual friends in London and South Wales. I soon lost my resentment of earlier as I enjoyed the pleasure of Liz’s close company.

Three hours earlier

Forty minutes later we arrived at the club and joined a long but quick moving queue of customers of all genders, looks, shapes and sizes. We were soon in and grabbing our first drinks.

Almost before we sat down Liz was approached by a young attractive man and went off to join the throng on the dance floor. I resigned myself to either being a wallflower for the night or hooking up with some much older partner later on in the evening. Either that or to get drunk, whichever came sooner.

I was two further drinks down the road to oblivion when a tall slender attractive woman about my age,dressed as a devil in a clinging red top and short skirt, came towards where I was sitting. She squatted down near to me to be heard over the loud music.

“Hi, hun, anyone sitting there,” she said in a soft lilting contralto, indicating the seat next to me where I had placed Liz’s bag.

“Only my friend but she’s off dancing, you’re welcome till she comes back,” I replied, emptying the seat.

“Fiona,” she said extending her beautifully manicured hand with brilliant red nail varnish, after she had sat down.

“Mollie,” I responded, gently touching her hand with my black varnished fingers.

We sipped our glasses in silence for a few minutes until I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I turned to see Fiona’s beautifully made up face close to mine.

“I know it’s very stale question but do you come here often,” she asked, smiling, showing her perfect teeth.

“Not really, maybe every couple of months, can’t really afford it, how about you?”

“First time.”

“Really, how come?”

“I’m pretty stealth.” Fiona explained.

“Didn’t even think you were trans.”

“Transitioned at school.”

“Lucky you, your parents must be cool.”

Fiona smiled again and nodded before telling me about her generally positive experiences of being accepted at an early age by her parents and siblings. I countered with my sorry tale and the family that had stopped acknowledging my existence over two years ago.

We were on our second glasses of wine when Liz came back accompanied by the handsome guy who had first approached her. She came over and sat down next to me while Fiona went off to the loo.

“Hey Mol, what do you think of him?” she asked, having to almost shout into my ear in the increasing hub-bub.

“Nice body, you like him?”

“I so do fancy him, Mol. But there’s a little problem.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s invited me back to a private party at his so I got to take the car,” she explained looking a little sheepish.

My heart sank as I considered the prospect of having to get home on public transport.

“D’you mind, Mol, I’m really sorry but I can't leave the car here overnight.”

“OK, I’ll be fine, I can get the night bus.” I said, trying to sound more convincing than I felt.

“Thanks, love,” said Liz as she gave me a gentle kiss on the lips, “have a good night.”

As usual Liz’s touch had rekindled the furnace of suppressed emotions and I stared at her longingly as she left arm in arm with her company for the evening.

“Penny for them, hun” asked Fiona as she sat back down next to me, “some history there?

“That’s my friend, Liz, she also my ex from before,” I explained before giving Fiona a very brief description of my former relationship.

“How about you?” I asked.

“What about me?”

“Got a boyfriend?”

“I had but maybe not looking any more. Come on Mollie, your friend’s gone no need to hang onto these seats any more, let’s dance.”

Fiona took my hand a led me into the crowd who were moving in all sorts of directions on the main dance floor. After a while I lost my inhibitions and my self consciousness about how I looked in my outfit and started to enjoy myself with my attractive companion.

Some twenty minutes later there was a change of tempo as the DJ announced a run of slow numbers. I was about to look for a seat when Fiona took my hand and pulled me towards her.

“Where’re you going Mol, don’t you like me?”

“I like you a lot but didn’t think you’d want a slow with me.”

“Definitely,” she replied, holding me close. It felt so good to be held, especially since she was slighter taller.

The lights dimmed and spooky halloween images were projected around the club. I soon felt myself being aroused by our intimate dance.

One hour earlier

All too soon the evening was over and it was time to leave.

I walked out into the cold autumn evening with my arm around Fiona’s waist while she draped her arm over my shoulder, surreptitiously squeezing my breast.

“What are you doing now?” I asked, nervously.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you could come back to mine, if you like, but it’s OK if you don’t I mean....” I said quickly almost falling over the words, feeling very anxious.

She put her finger on my mouth to halt the my spluttering speech, guided the two of us towards a little alcove outside the club and then kissed me, a deep probing kiss, strong but tender at the same time. I felt myself going weak at the knees.

“I’d love too, but I’m so sorry I’ve got to work tomorrow, early shift.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, feeling really deflated.

“I want to see you again, Mol, what about a drink tomorrow evening?”

“Great.”

We arranged the details and then exchanged numbers. She gave me a last kiss before she went off to join the long queue for taxis while I turned with a last wave to walk to the night bus stop. She had offered to share a taxi but my place was a good mile further away and I couldn’t afford it.

As I walked along the street I suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable. The pubs and clubs were beginning to empty and I was aware of the many glances I was getting. I heard one man, part of a drunken group, shouting from across the street.

“Get off the street you fat tranny.”

I quickened my step and was almost at the bus-stop when I saw the bus coming round the corner. At the same time the heavens opened. I started to run towards the oncoming bus, oblivious to even more strange looks, having calculated I just had enough time to make it.

I almost fell over the woman half sitting, half lying on the pavement. I attempted to run round her but before I’d passed her hand was on my arm.

“Please help me, I fell over and I can’t get up,” she pleaded in a strangely low voice.

I tried to pull her up quickly hoping I’d have enough to time to still catch the bus but the woman took an age to use my arm to pull herself to an unsteady standing position. Before I could ensure she was stable on her feet I heard the sound of my bus leaving the stop.

I turned around and watch my personal salvation leave me behind.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, in frustration.

“What’s up me dearie? “ asked the old woman, exposing me to her fetid, drink laced breath.

“Nothing, are you OK now?” I responded as I helped her sit on one of the plastic seats in the now empty bus-stop.

“Still a bit unsteady, but I’m indebted to you, what’s your name dear?”

“Mollie, shall I get you a coffee or something?”

“Thank you, I’m a Mollie too, just like you, not many of us left, used to be so many, the times we had at Mother Claps...” rambled the old woman as she rocked sleepily in the seat.

“You wait here, I’ll nip into the corner shop and get you a strong coffee.”

I turned my back and with great trepidation I walked into the busy 24 hour convenience shop. It seemed like everyone stopped talking and stared at me as I walked towards the drinks machine. I quickly inserted the coins and urged the machine to produce my beverage before there was any hassle. But before I could escape two tall teenage boys had contrived to roughly push into me as they left the shop.

The machine made a cheery noise to announce the arrival of the double strength coffee with extra sugar. I grabbed it too soon, ignoring the pain in my fingers.

“If that doesn’t wake her up, nothing will,” i said to myself as I exited the shop. I walked the twenty metres to the bus-stop as quickly as I could without tipping the scalding liquid onto my fingers.

She was gone.

The bus-stop was empty apart from one of the two youths who had pushed into me in the shop.

I bit my lip and summoned up all my courage with my concern for the unfortunate woman while cursing my too male sounding voice, “Excuse did you see an old woman here, waiting on the seat.”

He turned and looked at me in extreme distaste, “Fuck off freak, no-one here but me.”

I turned and walked away as quickly as I could. I felt even more depressed now at the prospect of having to walk the three miles back to my flat since it didn’t seem safe to wait for the next bus with the transphobic lad and no doubt some of his friends later on.

Suddenly there was a sudden gust of wind through my hair and damp clothes. I heard a whisper, almost too faint to be decipherable.

‘If you need help tonight ask the Mollies ‘

Fifteen minutes earlier

I’d been walking for over half an hour. My feet were really aching but I was glad I’d not seen too many people around. I’d been lucky in it being the hour gap between the pubs and normal clubs closing and the clubs with a bigger spending clientele closing.

Suddenly I turned a corner and saw a small group ahead of me. I was about to cross the road before they’d notice me when I heard a familiar voice.

‘Please leave me alone, I’m on my way home, I need to get to work.”

It was Fiona.

There were five men, in a variety of Halloween costumes, surrounding her. Evidently she had got out of her taxi just as the drunken group were coming along the street.

“We can give you plenty of work right now.” said one drunken idiot.

“You give reductions for fellow devils?” asked another, laughing raucously.

“Leave me alone or I’m calling the police.” shouted Fiona.

“Do what you like bitch, we’re still going to shag you, won’t be any police around her for hours.” stated the biggest of the men.

Another of the men pulled Fiona’s top down and started squeezing her breasts.

“Get off you bastard!” she screamed, pushing him away into the bigger of the men. They both stumbled.

Before they could recover I ran into them with as much force as I could summon and pushed them into their three companions.

“Run, Fiona, now!”

She looked at me in complete shock and hesitated. I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her in a direction away from the brutes.

“Go now it’s your only chance!”

She started to run to safety and I turned to face her attackers, who by now had regained their balance. The hate and hostility was clear in their faces.

“It’s a fucking freak,” said the drunken man.

“I don’t want to shag that thing” said the man dressed as a devil.

The apparent leader walked toward me quickly and grabbed me round the throat, “What do you think you’re doing you fat tranny, you think we want your ass instead of her cunt?”

“You look like a bunch of sissies, thought you'd like to suck my cock,” I said provocatively.

He released my throat to raise his hand to strike me, I tried to roll away from the blow but he still caught me on the side of my head. I fell to the ground with a sudden massive headache feeling dazed.

Before one of the others could kick me I rolled away along the pavement. My hand encountered a small pile of gravel. I took a handful and getting up a little groggily stared at my attacker.

“No point denying it big boy, you want to suck me off, I can see your hardon."

He started to run towards me, followed by his fellow idiots, as he did I threw the gravel into his face. I then turned and ran in the opposite direction to the one Fiona had taken.

By the time the leader had brushed the gravel from his face and the others had waited for him I had a good four hundred metres on them.

Now

I’d been running for five minutes. They were less than twenty metres behind me. Although I was handicapped by my heels, they were handicapped by their drunkenness and obesity.

I knew it was only a matter of time.

I turned a corner, I noticed the name of the street ‘Shoe Lane’. If only I thought to myself.

Suddenly the chase wa over and I stumbled as the fastest moving pursuer caught me and pushed my shoulder.

I flew into the wall hitting a metal plaque.

In an instance they were onto me, punching me in the back and head, with the boots flying in.

As I began to lose consciousness I smiled at the thought of Fiona’s escape.

For some reason the words I thought I’d heard in the wind after helping the old woman came to mind.

‘Please help me Mollies’ I thought to myself.

Suddenly there was a rush of wind that seemed to go through my body coming out of the plaque that I was pressed against.

I seemed to half hear some spectral voices.

‘Help our fellow Mollie'

'Save our Mollie'

The beating stopped and I slumped to the ground.

The sound of the wind rushing around in the lane seemed to increase to a high pitched, ghostly whine. Then the thugs started pleading.

“No”

“Leave me alone”

“Get off”

“For fucks sake”

As I lay on the ground I realised that my pain had dissipated. Then there was suddenly a disgusting smell that filled the lane. I smiled as the phrase ‘Shit Scared’ came to mind.

I heard the biggest thug shout, “Let’s get out of here.”

It was followed by the sound of retreating feet.

The rushing of the wind eased and it became a light zephyr that seemed to caress me for a while before disappearing back into the plaque.

I fell into a peaceful slumber.

I woke some time later with a hand on my shoulder.

“You alright Miss?”

I looked up at a middle aged policeman standing over me, with his car parked next to where I’d been lying.

“What?” I said, very surprised at his polite tone.

“We had a report of a fight, we saw you lying here, and we wondered if you’d been attacked Miss?”

“Thanks but I think I’m OK now,” I said as I stood up surprised at the lack of pain.

“Well let us give you a lift home then Miss, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out this late.”

‘Pretty? Me? I looked at him in surprise then I caught my reflection in their car window. I looked like a copy of my younger sister. How?

I turned and looked at the plaque in front of me and quickly understood.

“Thank you Mollies,” I said quietly as I followed the officer into the police car.