It was a dark night.
Black as that dark cloth that hovers over us, with those white dots that shine on its surface.
The cold breeze of the night was shaking the leaves of the city.
It was a bad night to go for a midnight walk.
Of course, this man, whom we’ll focus on, didn’t know about this.
He was walking across the streets of Danger City.
Famine and poverty reigned here.
Intolerance and hatred roamed the streets.
Laziness and mediocrity’s scent followed this man everywhere.
Of course, he was used to this.
It was a sight which one could see every day.
This would be the last time he would see it.
As he walked across the deserted street, shadowy figures crawled around the corners.
They were famished, and dirty.
Their dreams for a better future had been shattered before by false promises.
So what better way than doing what everyone else was doing to get food and money?
They loaded their guns.
They were used to doing this in plain daylight.
After all, these news appeared every day.
But this was a desperate occasion.
They jumped from a light pole.
They attacked the man.
And then, he turned around.
The shadowy figures looked at his face.
Fright?
Regret?
Sadness?
Or all of them?
They did not know what to think of his face and the feelings it was showing.
Nor did they care.
They pointed their gun to his head and shot twice.
Bang.
Bang.
Blood spluttering everywhere.
The breathing stopped.
They started looking around.
No food, no money, no nothing.
But they had to take something.
The next day, the corpse was found on a sidewalk. Cold, lifeless, and naked.
Was this the last time it would occur in Danger City?
No.
It still occurs, even to this day.