Part 1: On the Run
Cityville. A small clone of New York. The only different is the Statue of Liberty and the crime rate.
Like in any city, down town is never a safe place. And that's how this story begins. With a lost child. Scared, helpless, alone, hungry, and no place to stay but to run.
Feet trampling the ground. Breathless lungs beg for rest. Metal trash cans hit the ground without knowledge.
All stops at a dead-end, ally way. Poor choice of words.
"No where to run, kid." A tall, lanky sick green, man, who's lowered his shades down on his pointed nose. "Now be a good, sport, and come with us."
The weakling in baggy cloths and hat, that covered everything, made no move. It only seem to anger the leader more, he snapped his fingers for his lackeys to go grab the child.
But before they could; a gun rang off. Echoing powerfully through the ally.
The gang flinch and unsure to move or not.
The leader turn around to see who the shooter was. Only to end up on face down to the ground.
"You should know, Ace, your gang, ain't welcome here." A rough, city accent male, sneered to Ace, who had a bloody nose.
"Damn it!" Ace said in a low tone from the hit.
Before he could speak again, the gun cocked once more. As a minor warning. They considered and ran.
Leaving him and their shaking prey on the ground. Hoping not to get shot.
"You should go." He said, putting the gun away, brushing his black hair out of his face. Dark forest green eyes scanned, hard, over to the shaking kid. Not sure if the kid heard him or not.
Just before his foot could inch closer to the kid, that child had already rushed out of the ally way and was gone.