A gang of older men, maybe around 40-60, threw you to the brick wall, pinning you down. It felt cold on your back, the smell of trash bags mixed with the air in the alleyway.

”What’s a pretty thing like ya doing here…” one of them gives a raspy snicker, smirking.

The gang also laughed, one smoking a cigarette. You obviously knew that was their little “master.” He approached closer to you, his breath horrible. Smelling like rotten eggs and cigarettes. He looked you up and down, a devious smile on his face. The gang leader specifically looked at your thighs.

”How old are you… sweetheart?” he asks, his hands inching closer to you.

Before you could give a response, blue flames suddenly blasted at the gang from above. Their screams loud and clear. Skin burning to crisp.

Your eyes shifted to the source, finding a man on the roof of the building behind you, burn marks as scars, looking at the now deceased gang. He turned his head to see you.