The narrow alley fell into a silence so sharp it could snap.
The men who had been charging just a second ago now stood rooted to the ground, their bodies locked up as though invisible chains had bound them.
Sweat trickled down their temples, soaking their shirts, their breath coming out in uneven, ragged gasps. It wasn't just the sight of their comrade slammed like a ragdoll into the pavement, it was the aftermath.
The body lay there, crooked and unmoving, his limbs bent in angles that no living human could endure, and not a single groan escaped his lips.
No shallow breaths. No twitch. Nothing.
That absence of sound, of life, was what terrified them most.
They had seen fights before. They had seen blood, fists, even knives. But this was different. This wasn't a brawl. This was execution.
One of the men even inched backward unconsciously, as if his own survival instincts screamed at him to flee before he joined the corpse on the ground.
