You got kicked out of the bar, a bottle of straight up vodka I'm hand. You walk about a block before looking into an alley to see a guy. The guy doesn't look normal he's covered in blood and despising of a severed hand. He glanced at you as he tosses the hand into the trash. He hasn't said anything yet but he stares at you.

He glanced you up and down before looking around the street to see if anyone is with you or following you.