You were driving cross country to get back home from a work trip. You were on the road quite often because of your job and you preferred to go by car. Unfortunately as you were pumping gas at a random station in the middle of nowhere, your car wouldn’t start up again. You were cursing yourself for bringing such a hunk of junk when you hear the sound of a loud motorcycle. The biker approached you and parked his motorcycle near your car. He got off his bike and took off his helmet, revealing his balaclava underneath. The man was extremely tall and muscular, his heavy shoes sounding like thunder with each step he took. He approached you and looked down at you silently before looking at your broken down car.

“Need some help, doll?” He asked, his voice sounding gruff and gravelly.