| Mafia |

New York, 10:45pm

A girl hurriedly walked through the alley, her footsteps echoing against the concrete walls. She was wearing a long, sky-blue jacket that draped over her body, hiding every inch of her form. Her head was completely covered with a scarf, leaving not a single strand of hair visible. She had a vision of modesty, her brown eyes wide with concern. Her face, while not exposed, still carried the mark of exhaustion and determination. Today had been a long day, filled with too many tasks, and now she was late...late to return home, late for rest.

The alley wasn't the safest of places. It was a known shortcut, but also a place where people warned you not to linger. The city was full of shadows, but she was running out of time. Her shoes clicked against the pavement as she pushed forward, her heart racing slightly.

Suddenly, a man's scream echoed through the narrow alley, a cry filled with agony.

She froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. Fear gripped her, but she shook it off, willing herself to move forward. "Come on, don't be stupid," she muttered to herself, trying to gather courage. "It's just a scream, no big deal."

But the scream continued, each cry more desperate than the last.

She bit her lip, her instincts pulling her in the direction of the noise. She reached the end of the alley, and what she saw nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Lifeless bodies of men were scattered around the ground, their forms unnaturally still, some in poses of struggle, others twisted in ways that suggested pain had taken them beyond the limits of endurance. But there was one man who wasn't lifeless, though the blood pooling around him would suggest otherwise. He was still alive, writhing on the ground, his eyes wide with unimaginable pain. His eyes... fiery, burning with an intensity she couldn't comprehend.

She took a cautious step forward, her heart hammering in her chest. As she approached, he lifted his head slightly, and their gazes locked. His eyes were burning with an unearthly fire, a strange energy radiating from them despite the pain that wracked his body.

Her breath caught in her throat. What in the world...

" help..." he managed to rasp through gritted teeth. His voice was rough, desperate, but there was something about it something... familiar. He was in pain, no doubt, but there was power in him. Dark power.

She snapped out of her trance, her heart racing. She quickly broke the eye contact, fear running through her veins, yet she couldn't leave him there.

"I'm calling an ambulance," she said firmly, her voice wavering slightly.

"No." His voice was a low growl. Despite the blood that stained his face and clothes, there was anger in his words. "Don't."

She froze for a moment, eyes wide. "What? You're... you're bleeding out here! You need help!" Her voice cracked slightly as she struggled to stay calm.

He glared at her, his eyes flashing. "No ambulance. My phone... it's in the car. Bring it to me."

Her heart skipped a beat. Car? The man had a car, but why did he look like a walking corpse then? This didn't make sense!

She looked around, scanning the area. "Where's the car?" she asked.

He groaned in pain, not answering her directly, only pointing weakly toward a nearby parked car at the edge of the alley. Her brows furrowed, but she nodded, glancing one more time at the injured man before hurrying toward the car.

A few moments later, she returned with his phone in hand.

But when she got back to him, her blood ran cold.

He was unconscious, his body limping on the cold ground. The blood coming from his head was pooling around him, a gruesome sight that made her stomach twist in knots. His face was pale, his eyes closed. The sight of him like that made her hands tremble.

Think, think! she told herself.

She dropped to her knees beside him, quickly rummaging through her bag. She found a piece of cloth and pressed it to his head, trying to stop the blood from flowing.

Her hands were shaking as she held his head in her lap. "Come on, wake up," she whispered softly, almost as if talking to herself. "Please don't die on me, not like this."

She felt helpless, but she couldn't just leave him there. He wasn't a stranger anymore. There was something about him something that pulled at her.

"Wake up... you're not dying here. Not on my watch," she muttered, her voice shaky, but determined. Her fingers were covered in his blood as she held his face gently.

His eyes fluttered slightly, and he groaned, barely regaining consciousness. His eyes met hers again

this time, they were duller, but there was a faint recognition there.

"Password," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

"Password?" She frowned. "What do you...."

"Password," he repeated, his voice getting weaker. "Call... Yousef..."

She blinked in confusion. "Yousef? Who's that...."

"Just... call him," he urged weakly.

She looked at the phone in her hand, a wave of urgency hitting her. This was no time for questions.

Her fingers shakily tapped in the number. After a few seconds, a voice on the other end picked up.

"Yousef," she said breathlessly. "This man is injured... badly. He's in the alley... please, you need to hurry."

Yousef's voice was steady on the other end, though there was a hint of panic. "Stay with him. Don't leave him. I'll be there."

She hung up the phone, her gaze falling back on the man lying in her lap, his breathing shallow. She looked down at him, her heart racing. She couldn't help but be scared.Who was he? What happened here?

"Stay with me," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "Please."

For a moment, it seemed like he wasn't going to answer her, but then his eyes fluttered open once more. A faint, painful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I told you... I'm not dying today."

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, a mix of relief and disbelief.

Not dying today. Yeah, right.

"Yeah, well, don't make me regret saving your life, okay?" She half-laughed, but it was a laugh filled with nervous tension.

His lips twitched, as if he was about to respond, but the sound of a car approaching interrupted them. She looked up, hope flooding her chest.

Yousef's car screeched to a halt near the alley entrance, tires crunching on the gravel as it came to a sudden stop.

The door swung open, and a man stepped out. His tall figure cut through the dim light, his posture commanding yet visibly tense. He looked like someone who had seen it all, yet tonight, something was different. His sharp eyes scanned the scene

her, the injured man, and the blood-soaked ground.

His gaze landed on her, and she could feel the weight of it, but she didn't back down. She kept her hand on the man's head, refusing to let go.

"What happened to him?" Yousef's voice was calm but edged with an unspoken urgency as he walked toward them.

The girl took a deep breath, still shaken. She didn't know how to explain it all ...how the man was hurt, why he didn't want help. But she couldn't ignore the burning question that had been on her mind.

"Who is he?" she asked before she could stop herself, her eyes flicking between the unconscious man in her lap and Yousef.

Yousef hesitated, his jaw tightening. He seemed to weigh her question carefully, then gave a half-shrug.

"He's someone who doesn't like to be saved," Yousef replied, his voice gruff. "But I guess he's not gonna have much choice this time."

Her brow furrowed. She didn't understand. Doesn't like to be saved? But then, it wasn't the time for questions. Not now.

Yousef knelt beside her and began to examine the man with quick, practiced movements. His fingers checked the pulse on the man's neck, then his eyes flicked to the cloth wrapped around the wound.

"You did good," Yousef said, his tone softening as he looked at her. "But you need to let me take over now. We don't have much time."

She nodded, reluctantly removing her hands from the man's head, but she didn't stand up. Instead, she stayed seated beside him, her gaze locked on his unconscious face.

Yousef quickly took charge, moving with precision as he lifted the man into his arms with a strength that seemed unnatural. He moved him toward the car with urgency.

The man in his arms was still unconscious, but his lips moved slightly as though trying to speak, though his voice was barely a whisper.

the injured man murmured, his words slurring with pain, but there was an unmistakable gratitude in them. "I'll return the favor... someday."

Yousef's expression softened slightly as he looked down at the injured man, then back at the girl. He nodded, acknowledging the words.

"Just get him in the car. We'll take care of him from here," Yousef said, his tone surprisingly gentle.

The girl stood there, her heart still pounding in her chest. "Is he going to be okay?" she called out, her voice trembling despite her attempt to mask it with concern.

Yousef didn't answer right away. He opened the back door of the car, carefully placing the man inside. "He'll survive," he said, then paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. "But you should go. You don't want to be here when he wakes up."

She nodded slowly, still processing everything that had just happened. The strange man, the blood, the dark energy that seemed to radiate from him even in unconsciousness. She was shaken, but something kept her rooted in place. She wanted to leave, but... something inside her told her she couldn't quite walk away yet.

As Yousef slid into the front seat, starting the engine, he turned his head toward her one last time.

"Take care of yourself. And don't get involved again."

His words hung in the air, and with a final glance, the car sped off into the night, the headlights illuminating the dark alley as it disappeared into the distance.

The girl stood there, her mind racing, her heart still trapped in the chaos of the night. What had just happened? Her body felt numb, her thoughts disjointed as she replayed the events in her mind

the man's fiery eyes, the blood, the words she couldn't quite comprehend. And now Yousef's cryptic warning about not getting involved again.

Why did he say that? she wondered, gazing at the empty street where the car had vanished.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her nerves, but all she could feel was the cold night air on her skin, the echo of the man's words in her ears.

"I'll return the favor..."

Her feet moved before she could stop them, as if they knew where they were supposed to go. Her apartment was a few blocks away. She needed to get home, to process everything that had just unfolded, but the streets seemed longer than usual tonight. Each step felt heavy, like the weight of the man's burning eyes was following her.

I don't even know his name, she thought, her breath catching in her throat as she walked faster. What was that tonight?

Her apartment building finally came into view, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She hurried up the stairs, key trembling in her hand.

Inside, her apartment felt too quiet, too still, in stark contrast to the chaos she had just witnessed. She locked the door behind her and leaned against it, her heart still racing.