A/N: Yosh! First story on here and the prologue is so epicly confusing!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few OCs!
Two shadows were backing into a dark ally in the still of the moonles night. The silhouettes of drunken men were cornering them. Noises of fear from the duo grew louder with each passing second, and even louder when they hit the wall. The smaller of the tripped over a trash can in attempt to escape the danger.
"You're not scared," slurred the leader of the drunks, "are you?" He stumbled over to the small, fallen form and began pouring a liquid on it. One of his gang members lit a match, to which the now wet being attempted to stand up. Another member held it down, allowing his buddy to wobble over with the flame.
The larger of the two was in shock, and wasn't sure what to do. He decided to make a move when the match left the man's hand. In it's worry and seemingly slow rush, several other forms landed from the rooftops in front of it. The leader of the new group grabbed the burning match seconds before it hit the small one's gas-covered body. The large one sighed in relief.
The leader ran out of the ally, leaving the drunk men stunned. His gang ran after him, knocking the alchoholics out on the way. The last one out stopped at the end of the ally for a few moments, looking back on the two before deciding to catch up with his friends.
The small one watched everything happen, and scrambled up and jogged to meet it's saviors. The large one, not wanting to stay around until the gang came to or leave his friend alone, followed the other.