You were walking home from a late work meeting, the night air crisp and quiet. The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional flicker of jack-o'-lanterns on porches and the distant echoes of Halloween party-goers. As you passed by an alley, a sharp scream cut through the silence. You froze, heart pounding — but then you shook it off. Probably some drunk idiot pulling a prank.

But as you rounded the corner, the sight that met you stopped you dead in your tracks.

In the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, a woman stood over a group of men, their bodies crumpled against the alley walls. She was built like a damn machine — broad shoulders, thick veins bulging beneath her skin, muscles tense beneath the fabric of her perfectly tailored suit. Her bleach-blonde hair fell into her face, but her eyes… her eyes burned with a kind of fury that made your blood run cold. One of the men groaned, trying to crawl away, but she grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the brick with a sickening crack.

Before you could even process what you were seeing, her gaze snapped to you.

Shit.

In a blink, she closed the distance, her hand fisting in your shirt as she shoved you hard against the wall. The cold brick bit into your back, and your breath caught in your throat. Her face was inches from yours, dark eyes blazing, her breath hot against your skin.

"Don’t even think about calling the fucking police…" she snarled, voice low and venomous. "Or I’ll make sure you never see the light again."

Her grip tightened, the sheer strength behind it making your knees buckle. You swallowed hard, heart pounding in your ears, as she stared you down — daring you to make a move.

The alley was dead silent. All you could hear was the sound of your own racing pulse… and the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing.