She stirred awake, her thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. "Where am I?"
Gradually, her surroundings sharpened into focus, unveiling a chilling tableau from her past—the very moment when terror first erupted, a grim expanse of blood and bones lay before her.
Memories surged like a relentless wave: two young men wielding a weapon against an elderly figure, who stood trembling yet defiant. "Take the rest of my money and go," the old man implored, his voice quivering. The youths erupted in mocking laughter, jeering, "Old man, you think you're tough." Among them, Dawn cast a wary glance at the quaking man and chose to distance herself. The others, surprised, whispered, "What's wrong with her?"
One of the boys grabbed her arm, demanding, "Where do you think you're going?"
With a fierce glare, Dawn shot back, "Let go of me." Their laughter rang out, dismissive, "No. You're supposed to help us get the money."
Once again, she insisted, "Let go of me." In a swift motion, she twisted the boy's arm, causing him to cry out in pain as he instinctively reached for her hair. With quick reflexes, she seized his flailing hand and delivered a precise kick to his ankle, sending him crashing to the ground. His shocked scream echoed through the alley, momentarily stunning the others at her unexpected defiance.
The cold intensity in her eyes exuded an unsettling calm, instilling fear in both the teenagers and the old man. Seizing the opportunity, the elderly man began to retreat, then dashed away. The teens, realizing his escape, surged after him, but Dawn quickly took down another boy. "Let him go. There's no need to take his money," she commanded, her voice a low, steady whisper.
As they fled, she watched them vanish around the corner, her mind racing with plans to find her way home. With resolve, she stepped into the shadowy alley that would lead her back to the unknown.