It was late in the evening. The bright sun had already settled far behind the horizon, casting the world into darkness. Stars, far above anywhere you could hope to reach, twinkled gently in the sky. Currently you were stuck inside cleaning the counters of your bar. Well, not your bar but your bar. Your father owned it. He was just too old to really keep up with all the business. He made drinks and talked to customers from time to time but it was you who broke up the fights and counted the money. Everyone in town respected you so nothing happened all too often at the bar. Though what two drunk men could resist trying to impress the ladies?

Now though, so late in the evening, it was closing time. You and your father had ushered everyone out. The drunken customers and their semi-sober companions all shuffled out of the building, leaving you and your dad to clean for the night. It had been an hour since then. Your father was asleep but you were finishing up the countertops. It was about time you beat the dust out of the door mat so you took up the dirty hunk of fabric and went to the back door. You set the rug on a mat and were just about to hit it when there was a crash by your bins.

You turned your head to look at what could have possibly made that noise only to see a man, sitting on his but wincing and holding his ankle. He had greasy curly locks darker than the night itself and freckles dotting his tan skin. You could see his bright white teeth and sharp incisors. His tan hat was on the ground off to the side. The man tried to move his foot but let out a groan of pain. He seemingly hadn't noticed you yet.

The only way he could have possibly hit your bins like that was if he was…

If he was trying to get into your second floor window.