The four men spread out in the rain, half-circling him. Neon flickered over their faces... jagged, scarred, and etched with malicious intent.
Kyle stayed still. Calm.
"Look, guys," he said quietly. "You really don't want to do this."
"Oh, but we do," one of the men replied, cracking his fists.
"Are you sure about that?" Kyle asked, his voice low but with an edge that was dangerously calm. "Do you even know who I am?"
The men exchanged amused glances. The one with the glowing blade scoffed. "We don't care who you are, kid. Just give us the credits and we'll be on our way."
Kyle sighed, rolling his neck. "Well, I tried being nice."
He placed the small grocery bag down beside the wall, out of the rain. Then he straightened his stance. Hands relaxed. The rain kept falling, tapping against the pavement like a countdown.
The man with the knife lunged, the red glow of his blade arcing directly at Kyle's chest.
