Victor crouched beside the car, watching as one of his buddies held the rod. They tampered with it slightly, though they had hardly even pressed it to the tire rim before the bullets began to fly.

He immediately jumped up, hands in the air as the owner of the car angrily approached. He quickly scrambled, like the rest of his buddies did. Unfortunately, he was left, and trapped between the owner and the exit of the alleyway. His hands were shaking as he held them out in attempt to show he was not a threat.

“I’m done, I-” he choked. Fear enveloped him as he felt the barrel of the gun brush his temple. His stutter began to choke him, mouth gasping to try to form the words, though nothing came out. “P-P-... Please, please, please-”