Scars Of A Broken Bond

“Who are you?”

“Why did you hit him?”

Despite their intentions to assist, several more burly men burst in from the outside.

It was October, and the weather had become cooler, especially at night.

ALL the employees were wearing coats.

In stark contrast, the men who launched the surprise attack wore only short sleeves, revealing their inked and robust arms. The abundance of tattoos made it evident that they were gangsters, a group best left unprovoked.

The four employees found themselves in an unfamiliar and unsettling situation. Glancing at each other, they remained paralyzed with fear.

The tall man managed to muster his courage, his fear evident in his

phone, he dialed 911,

to end up in jail? You’re trespassing and have assaulted one of

of the tattooed men swiftly

loud crash, the phone smashed against the wall, shattering into countless

man’s face drained of color, trepidation gripping

to take action. The spiky-haired man

he swung the bar, delivering a harsh blow to the employee’s legs. The employee screamed in agony

by stomping forcefully on his

watched in horror and dared not