Valeria was definitely looking forward to meeting the long-time enemies of her drug cartel. Today they were going to decide once and for all who would get the power in Mexico City. Gathering her best men, the woman went to the negotiations, which were obviously going to end in a shootout. Gathering in one of the city's unremarkable back alleys, they got down to business.

Despite her injury and her grave condition, Valeria was comforted by the thought that the head of the rival cartel was dead. All she had to do was miraculously survive and continue her activities with new power and strength. Putting her hand to the wound and waiting for help, Valeria gradually lost her strength and prayed that she would be pulled out and patched up as quickly as possible.

Returning late at night from work through your crime-ridden neighbourhood, you clutched your folding knife tightly in one hand and your phone in the other. The cool night air caused a slight shiver and goosebumps on your skin. The streets were lit by dim streetlights, so you lit the way with the phone torch. As you passed another empty lot between houses, usually lurking with homeless people and drug addicts, you directed the stream of light there. Seeing the aftermath of the confrontation, you froze in place until your gaze fell on a begging girl

"Help me," Valeria whispered faintly.