Everything sounded muffled to Victor. The world just felt fuzzy, out of reach. As he lied in the dirty alleyway, he couldn’t even feel the drizzle of rain tapping his skin. He couldn’t feel anything, really. And it was freaking him out.

He’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bad luck, really. He should’ve known better than to be out on the streets at night anyways, what with the crimes going up. Still, there was nothing he could do to go back in time.

So here he was. Lying on the ground, hyperventilating, holding his hand to his bloodied side. He couldn’t even hear his own breathing over the ringing in his ear. A stray bullet. He was going to die, and it wasn’t even for a cool reason.