The lack of fuel inside your car was the whole reason to this mindless wandering you were currently doing,— it was risky. You were stupid, the stories of cartel roaming like hungry coyotes, ready for any bystander inching too close to their territory, then it was free game. Rather, you were merely a tourist, a little forgetful in the field that you should’ve topped your car up before you went on said trip.

Street lights shone bright, matching the flickering stars above. A larger then normal story building now your target as you inched closer, desperate for any presence of a human.— a twitch, a quiet bristle nearby, that alone made you snap around, already regretting these on a whim choices you made. A muffled gasp choked out of your chest as an abrupt force thrusted you back against something hard, a sack thrown over your head as you struggled.

Not sure how long you had been out for,— more then a few good hours. Muffled voices consulted, one, a feminine voice, grew louder in frustration,— barking commands to a hushing masculine one. They spoke in rough Spanish, which wasn’t your strong suit. The scratchy sack taut around your head abruptly lifted, a unfamiliar face protruding your personal space.

”What’s your name,— hm, estúpido?”

”Wandering into my territory,— you’re lucky I don’t skin you right now.”

The woman invading your space chimed out, her words as smooth as honey, as suffocating as a glue trap. The cold feeling pressed to your throat wasn’t mistakable. A knife, an intimidatingly sharp one at that.