The chatter died down, their attention now drawn to the female. The men exchange looks and vile smirks as they all stood up properly, looking even more menacing as the darkness loomed on their figures.
Evie tries to hide her trembling, immediately turning around to escape but she runs into a wall. Only it wasn't even a wall, it was two buff looking men with their yellow stained teeth on display as they smiled down cruelly at her. A shuddering gasp leaves her lips as she backs away, only to stumble into the others.
"Please.... I don't want any trouble." She managed to whimper out, the half eaten croissant falling out of her grasp as she held out her hands in defense.
"Aw, nuh. We ain't gonna hurt you. Are we, boys?" One of them called out, eliciting chuckles from others.
"Naw, she's too pretty for that. Say, how about we play a game of catch?"
Before she could reply, her bag was ripped from her and thrown to one of them before being passed to another. She begged and pleaded with them to let her go, but all she got was laughter filled with sick glee.
"Here you go, doll!"
The bag fell to the ground with a clatter and she crouched, about to pick it up when she is suddenly dragged by the arm, an appendage wrapped around her waist as her body is forced to make contact with one of the gang members.
His hair is a disgusting shade of green with the tattoo of a green viper wrapped around his neck. Evie held in the urge to dry gag as the scent of cigarette and bad breath wafted through her nostrils.
"Let me go," she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear rising in her chest.
"Hey, boss! She says she doesn't want to play anymore!"
Laughter erupted from the group as she was shoved into the grimy hands of their leader. He was bigger and more muscular than the others, with bleached blond hair slicked back into a low ponytail.
"Relax, doll," he sneered, his grin widening as he cupped her face roughly, pressing his fingers into her cheeks until she winced. "I'll let you go—after we've had a little fun."
Before he could continue, a cold, steel voice cut through the tension.
"Let her go."
The voice sent a jolt through her. Though her view was limited, she managed to shift her eyes enough to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure—the man she'd noticed watching her at the café.
"And who the hell are you supposed to be?" the leader growled, shoving her behind him. Two of his lackeys stepped forward, grabbing her arms to keep her in place. He cocked his head, sizing up the newcomer. The man stood tall, curly black hair framing dim gray eyes, the rest of his face hidden behind a sleek black mask. A vibrant, flowery shirt stretched across his muscular frame, though the cheerful design did little to soften the menace radiating from him.
"The one who's going to make one of you lose a finger if you don't let her go. Now."
For a moment, the leader—Dracio—stared, stunned by the audacity of the threat. Then he burst into laughter, his gang quickly joining in with jeering, mocking tones. The sound made her shrink further into herself, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.
Jarad's jaw clenched, his fists tightening and releasing as he tried to restrain himself. His sister was in danger, and the only thing keeping him from tearing into them was the need to ensure her safety.
"You've got five seconds to turn around and leave, hero," Dracio spat.
"And you've got three seconds before my knife finds your shoulder," Jarad replied calmly.
"You—"
"Time's up."
The blade flew before Dracio could finish, grazing his shoulder and drawing a thin line of blood. His smug expression twisted into one of pure rage.
"That's it. You're dead meat."
At his command, the gang sprang into action. Weapons appeared—switchblades, brass knuckles, and makeshift clubs—but Jarad didn't flinch. He remained eerily calm, his mask hiding the faint smirk tugging at his lips.
The first attacker lunged with a switchblade. Jarad moved like water, sidestepping the clumsy assault and catching the man's wrist. In one fluid motion, he twisted the blade free, sliced off the man's finger, and sent the weapon clattering to the ground.
A scream tore through the air, but it didn't last long. Jarad delivered a sharp elbow strike to the attacker's throat, leaving him unconscious on the ground. He glanced at his now-ruined shirt, frowning at the bloodstains.
"Great," he muttered. "I liked this shirt."
The room fell silent. The gang's confidence faltered as they took in the sight of their fallen comrade and the severed digit on the floor. Even Evie couldn't tear her eyes away, her heart pounding in her chest. Who was this man? Could she trust him?
Dracio's bravado cracked. "Get him!" he barked.
The remaining gang members rushed him all at once, but it was a futile effort. Jarad ducked, dodged, and weaved through their attacks with a predator's grace, each move precise and efficient. One by one, they fell—knocked unconscious by well-placed strikes or disarmed before they could land a single hit.
When the last thug hit the ground, Jarad rolled his wrists, the adrenaline fading as quickly as it came. He nudged a body nearby ensuring that it was out cold before turning his head to look at his sister.
"Hey, you alright? Are you hurt?" Jarad asked, his voice softer than it was initially
"Y-yeah I think so" She replied eyes darting at the bodies that were sprawled out on the floor of the alley
----------
It reeked of garbage and stale beer, a perfect setting for what was about to happen. I struggled against the rough hands shoving me forward, the panic rising in my chest that was threatening to spill over.
"Let me go", I said, trying to keep my voice steady. My hands trembled betraying the calm front I so desperately tried to put on.
"Hey, boss!" One of them jeered. "She said she doesn't wanna play anymore!"
The others merely laughed, their voices grating and cruel as they pushed me into the biggest of them all- their leader. He was massive, with muscles bulging under his dirty tank top and a bleached blond hair pulled into a low ponytail.
"Relax doll." He said, his grin stretching wide as he grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. The pain made me wince but I refused to cry "Don't make it seem like I'm threatening you doll, I can always let you go- when we've had fun of course"
My heart pounded. I wanted to scream, to fight back but I wasn't able to aa my body was seemingly frozen, unable to move as ever fiber and muscle was locked in utter fear.
'Let her go"
The said voice was cold and sharp, like the sheated blade of a sword as it cut through the laughter.
I couldn't see much from where I stood, but I turned my head as much as I could, searching for the source. That's when I saw him. The man from the cafe.
He stepped out of the shadows like something out of a nightmare - or was it a dream?. Depending on whose side he was of course. He has curly black hair and eyes like storm clouds, his facial features were mostly obscured by the black mask on his face. His flower shirt seemed almost out of place in the damp and bad smelling alley,.that still didn't conceal the strength in his stance and the calm and composed confidence in his voice.
"And who the hell are you supposed to be " the leader growled, shoving me behind him. Two of his lackeys grabbed my arms, holding me in place.
"The one who's going to make one of you lose a finger if you don't let her go" the man replied.
I don't know what shockede more -his calm threat or the fact that he seemed to mean every word.
The leader- Dracio, one of the others had called him before - stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. The others joined in, their mocking voice echoing in the alley.
My stomach churned, and I shrank back, the humiliation and fear clawing at my chest
"You've got five seconds to walk away hero" Dracio sneered.
" And you've got three seconds before my knife finds your shoulder." The man shot back, his tone as steady as ever.
"You-"
'Time's up."
The knife flew faster than I could blink. Dracio yelled, clutching his shoulder where a line of blood had trickled down his skin. His expression shifted from shock to fury.
"That's it. You're dead meat"
The gang sprang into action.
Weapons appeared in their hands- switchblades, a metal bag, and brass knuckles - but the man didn't flinch.
He just stood there, relaxed, as if the chaos didn't faze him
The first attacker lunged at him with a switchblade. I tensed, expecting the worst, but the stranger moved so fast I barely saw it. He sidestepped the attack with ease, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting until the knife fell to the ground.
There was a sickening crack, followed by a scream. Then the stranger grabbed the knife and—oh God—sliced off one of the man's fingers.
I couldn't look away, no matter how much I wanted to. The attacker crumpled to the ground, clutching his hand and wailing in pain.
The stranger didn't even glance at him. Instead, he frowned at the blood splattered across his flowery shirt. "Great," he muttered. "I just started liking this shirt."
The rest of the gang hesitated, their confidence faltering. I could see it in their faces—they weren't used to this. They weren't used to losing.
"Get him!" the leader barked, though his voice was less certain now.
They rushed him all at once, but it didn't matter. He moved like he was dancing, dodging every swing, every stab, like it was nothing. One by one, they fell. Some were knocked out with precise strikes to the head or chest. Others went down screaming, clutching broken arms or ribs.
The alley was eerily quiet when it was over. The only sound was my shallow breathing and the distant hum of the city.
The man adjusted his cuffs and stepped over one of the unconscious bodies, finally turning to look at me.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost gentle.
I stared at him, my arms trembling. I wanted to speak, to ask him who he was, but the words wouldn't come out.
"Don't worry," he said, offering me his hand. "They won't bother you again."
Hesitantly, I reached out and took it. His grip was firm but careful, like he was afraid of hurting me.
As he led me out of the alley, I glanced back at the bodies sprawled across the ground. I didn't know who this man was but one thing was for sure .
He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before.