The sun had just set, and a chill crept into the air. On this quiet night, the streets were empty and silent, when all of a sudden, a scream pierced the stillness. It was a little girl, wandering alone in the dark. Zhethea was heading home from school when she heard the scream. She stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. The noise had come from an alleyway nearby, and she couldn't just ignore it. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the alley, her steps echoing on the pavement.
Zhethea cautiously peered into the alley, trying to see if anyone was there. The alley was dark and narrow, and the sounds of her footsteps seemed to echo off the walls. She could barely make out a small figure huddled nearby, shivering with fear. It was the little girl, her face streaked with tears. "Hey there, are you okay?" Zhethea called out, walking slowly towards the girl. The little girl looked up, her eyes wide with terror. She didn't say anything, just shook her head helplessly.
"Come here, let me help you," Zhethea said gently, kneeling down next to the girl. The little girl hesitated for a moment, then stumbled towards her, throwing her arms around Zhethea's neck.
"It's okay, you don't have to be scared anymore," Zhethea said soothingly, holding the little girl close. "Where are your parents? Do you know where they are?" The girl shook her head again, still crying silently.
Zhethea felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. She couldn't just leave her alone here, especially not at night. She thought for a moment, wondering what to do. Just then, she heard a loud noise behind her.
Turning around, she saw a group of shadowy figures standing at the entrance of the alley. They were all dressed in black, their faces hidden by hoodies and masks. Zhethea felt her stomach knot up with fear.
"You have something that belongs to us," one of the figures said, stepping forward. He had a voice like gravel, rough and menacing. The other figures spread out, blocking any escape routes.
Zhethea stood up, still holding the little girl tightly. She could feel the girl trembling behind her. "Wait, this isn't what you think," she said, her voice shaking. "Hand her over, or else," another figure hissed, taking another step forward. Zhethea could see a knife glinting in his hand. "Shut up," the figure said, taking a step closer. "Give us the girl, and maybe we'll let you live." Zhethea's mind raced, trying to think of a way out. She couldn't fight these people on her own, and she couldn't run without putting the little girl in danger. She thought about calling for help, but her phone was in her bag, which she had left by the street.
The other figures were closing in now, their hands reaching out towards the girl. Zhethea knew she had to act fast. She looked around, searching for something to use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on a nearby trash can, and she made a split-second decision. She bent down, picked up the trash can, and threw it at the nearest figure. It hit him hard in the chest, and he stumbled backwards.
The other figures looked at her in surprise, but they quickly gathered themselves and rushed towards her. She knew she didn't have much time. She kicked out at one of them, trying to keep them away from the little girl.
The figure grabbed her leg, and she fell onto the ground with a thud. The little girl cried out, running away towards the street.
Zhethea tried to get up, but the other figures were surrounding her now, kicking and hitting her. Zhethea heard the little girl's cries getting louder, she knew that she had to get up and help her. She tried to get up, but the pain from the kicks and punches made her stumble. She clenched her teeth and pushed herself up, ready to fight back. The shadowy figures were still standing around her, blocking her path to the street. They were taunting her now, confident in their numbers and strength. "You don't have a chance," one of them sneered. "Just give us the girl and save yourself some trouble." "I'll never let you take her," Zhethea said, trying to sound brave. "She's just a little girl. What do you want with her?" "That's not your concern," another figure said, taking a step forward. "Now hand her over, or suffer the consequences." The figures were getting closer, their eyes glinting menacingly in the dark. Zhethea didn't know what to do. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she couldn't back down now. "Stay away from her," a voice said suddenly.
Zhethea looked up to see a tall figure standing at the entrance of the alleyway. He was dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, and his face was half-hidden by the shadow of his hood. The figures turned towards the newcomer, startled. "Who are you?" one of them asked, his voice harsh. The newcomer didn't answer. Instead, he walked towards the figures, his footsteps echoing in the alley. He seemed to move with purpose, his eyes fixed on the figures in front of him.
The figures exchanged glances, unsure of what to do. One of them stepped forward again, trying to play the tough guy. "This is none of your business," he said, clenching his fists.
The newcomer stopped in front of him, still silent. He was now just a few feet away. The figure seemed to shrink back a little, as if intimidated by the newcomer's presence. "I'm talking to you," the figure said, his voice trembling slightly. "Who the hell do you think you are?" The newcomer finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm the one who's going to make sure you don't lay a finger on that girl." The other figures glanced at each other nervously.
This newcomer was not someone they wanted to mess with. The first figure tried to bluster his way out of the situation. "Oh yeah? And how do you plan to do that?" The newcomer didn't reply. Instead, he took another step forward, putting himself between the figures and Zhethea. He stood there, motionless, his eyes locked on the first figure. The figure took a step back, his expression now more uncertain. He glanced at his companions, as if seeking reassurance. But the other figures seemed just as unnerved as he was.
"Come on boys, let's teach this guy a lesson," the figure finally said, trying to sound braver than he felt. Two of the other figures rushed forward, flanking the newcomer on either side.
The newcomer didn't waver. His eyes flicked between the two figures, his body relaxed and ready. As the figures lunged towards him, he stepped aside, using their momentum against them. The two figures crashed into each other, dazed for a moment. The newcomer continued moving in a fluid motion, striking out at one of them with a quick jab. The figure fell back, groaning in pain. The other figures hesitated, watching their comrade stumble. They seemed to realize that this newcomer was not someone they could easily take down. "Get him!" the first figure yelled, charging forward again. He was met with a swift kick to the stomach, sending him sprawling on the ground. The remaining figures looked at each other, realizing that they were outnumbered and outmatched. They hesitated for a moment, then fled quickly, their footsteps echoing in the alley. Shizen turned to look at Zhethea, making sure she was okay. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock and relief. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle. She nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. Who was he? How did he know they were in danger? And how did he manage to scare off those men like that? Too many questions swirling in her mind, trying to make sense of the situation. "Thank you," she finally managed to say, her voice shaky. "You...you saved us. Who are you?" Shizen hesitated for a moment, as if deciding how much to tell her. Finally, he spoke. "My name's Shizen," he said simply, his eyes locked on hers.
TO BE CONTINUED...