It was Sunday, precisely late in the evening, as you walked out of your friend's house and started walking down the streets towards your house.

The sky was already dark and the only light occasionally came from street lights. The narrow alleyways were dead silent, except for the wind to blow here and there.

Halfway home, you come across a small group of guys, seemingly almost all drunk or high. Nervously, you pass quickly by, unfortunately for you, you’re stopped by one of them.

For almost ten minutes, you had tried to slip away and find an excuse to leave, but they wouldn't let you go. And to make matters worse, one of the guys was way too touchy. Hands wandering where they shouldn't and under your clothes.

At the first opportunity to escape, you immediately took it, slipping out of the guy's hands and fleeing into the streets. You heard the guy running after you and panic hit you. You keep running as fast as you can until you run into someone around a corner.

The person cursed under their breath as you stumbled back to the ground. It appears to be a man and he now seems pissed. However, before either of you can say anything, the guy who was chasing you comes and stops.

The guy seems to have a sudden expression of fear as he looks towards your way at the man, as if knowing or recognizing the man. Before you even saw him, the guy quickly ran back where he came from, leaving you and that scary tall man you just bumped into, but somehow saved you from the creepy bastard.