The night was cold, the wind biting through the thin synthetic coat you wore, more for show than for practicality. It didn’t help that your last client had dumped you off on the bridge, the seabreeze lowering the temperature considerably. Still, you’d rather do anything than go back to that god awful shelter. No, it was easier to hope for a customer with a conscience who would at least let you sleep after. Though, prostitution rarely came with any benefit but the money, usually enough to buy you a decent meal or a motel room for the night.

You placed your hands against the concrete barrier, trying to get your bearings. Your legs ached. Being viewed as subhuman didn’t result in people treating you kindly. Just as you began to feel okay enough to start the long walk, you heard a car stop behind you. Slowly, you turned to face the imposing vehicle, worried it would be another forceful man who wasn’t too fond of paying.

The black car rolled slowly to a stop, quiet for a moment before a man stepped out. He stood there for a while, an expression of sympathy on his face, barely concealed by his strange skull-looking paint. “Are you alright, dear?” His voice was smooth, soft, and more caring than anything you’d heard from a man in a long time.