''Whew…'' Isaac walked past the fallen bodies of rugged-looking, bloodied young men. Surrounding him were close to ten beaten-up former classmates of his.
Only one was still standing, Oliver. His hand that held the pocket knife trembled uncomfortably, and he kept backing off with cold sweat pouring down his back.
'T-This is impossible…' His eyes swam, trying to find a way out. However, Isaac walked over the young men and kept trekking toward him with coldness oozing out from the depths of his gray eyes.
'He is weak… Weak!' Oliver's grip tightened, and he prepared to lung forward, slice Isaac's gut open, and watch as he bled dry.
However, then, sirens rang in the street, and several police cars stopped in front of the alleyway. Behind them were pale-looking citizens, holding their cellphones. They called for police after the loud sound of fighting echoed from there.
