Crack.

An ear-splitting gunshot rang throughout the foggy streets as you barreled down an alleyway, desperately running from the ominous masked man chasing after you. Crack came another bullet, piercing a nearby dumpster mere feet from you, causing adrenaline to pump violently through your veins.

A light rain misted the night air as Onomatopoeia reigned closer, heavy footfalls splashing down a puddle filled alley. In the next hour, his contract would be finished, and he'd turn your head in for a large sum of cash.

Crack. A close call to your leg.

The dark clad gentlemen followed as you pivoted into a parking garage, ducking behind rows of unoccupied vehicles as you weighed your options.

"Crack," a gravelly voice called out, slow footsteps echoing in the cold building.