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You slowly make your way into the town, not bothering to even *attempt* to clean the blood off you. Even if you succeeded, it wouldn't make you feel any different.
There are very few people on the streets at this time in the morning. Those that *are* around stop to stare at you, before hurrying quickly on, unwilling to get involved in your business.
You can't blame them. Not long ago, you would have done exactly the same thing - turned a blind eye to what was going on around you, in case it meant that you were going to be involved in something bad.
"Hey, man," a voice cuts into your thoughts. "I wonder if you could help me?"
Startled, you glance to the side, to see a red mondeo crawling along beside you. The window on the drivers' side is open, and a man with dreadlocks and a hand holding a cigarette dangling over the side is sitting there, watching you.
Without waiting for an answer, the man continues, "Or maybe *I* could help *you*..."
What do you want to do?
There are very few people on the streets at this time in the morning. Those that *are* around stop to stare at you, before hurrying quickly on, unwilling to get involved in your business.
You can't blame them. Not long ago, you would have done exactly the same thing - turned a blind eye to what was going on around you, in case it meant that you were going to be involved in something bad.
"Hey, man," a voice cuts into your thoughts. "I wonder if you could help me?"
Startled, you glance to the side, to see a red mondeo crawling along beside you. The window on the drivers' side is open, and a man with dreadlocks and a hand holding a cigarette dangling over the side is sitting there, watching you.
Without waiting for an answer, the man continues, "Or maybe *I* could help *you*..."
What do you want to do?