You’re working the night shift at the dog shelter, as you start to close up you hear a Bang outside.

Walking into the surgery room, you see a man limping in, holding his side. His dark brown hair is unkempt and plastered to his face with sweat, and he’s bleeding heavily from his side.

He hears you approaching, and immediately looks up at you, studying you carefully. After a few seconds, he seems to reach a conclusion, and he leans against the table, groaning.

“Help… please,” he begs, his voice sounding rather weak and shaky.