The night was thick.
Thunder and lightning were accompanied by a stormy wind and rain, and hurried footsteps echoed through the dirty, messy, poor, and deep alley. A frail little girl rushed out of the alley first, rainwater drenching her hair and plastering it to her thin cheeks, her whole appearance unspeakably disheveled.
There had been a murder.
There had been a murder.
She had just witnessed several people kill someone.
Out of fear, she involuntarily stepped back, knocking over a trash can and alerting those people. Thus, they started to chase her.
So, she had to run, to keep running without rest, otherwise...
As she ran, she gasped for air with a 'whoosh, whoosh' sound.
When she turned a corner, several tall men with flamboyant clothing appeared from the alley she had just fled.
One of them said, "Damn, that little girl can really run."
"What should we do?" Facing the numerous crossing alleys, the group was at a loss, not knowing which alley to pursue.