The hiss of rain filled the streets, harsh and unforgiving. Around him, the world stretched only as far as the buildings that blended in the darkness, street corners swallowed whole, the road tar-black and slick and camouflaged against the emptiness of another storm. His eyes stayed their course until he eventually pulled up into the parking lot and set his beat up automobile in park.
Munchies, man...the lengths Marty would go to when the cravings hit. Ah well, it wasn't like he was worried too much. Get in, get out, that was all there was to it! Nothing more and nothing less on the agenda — shit, he'd made this run how many times in the past? Glancing up through his windshield and up at the sheets of rain sluicing down, he sported a small grin, before tugging the hood of his jacket over the top of his head, flatting down his hair. Then, he was throwing the car door open and making a run for it across the empty parking lot.
Mostly empty parking lot. There was another car, a big old pick up truck, which he dashed by and didn't even think to give a backwards glance.
When he finally made it, he was trailing rain and wind across the threshold. Marty rubbed his hands lightly together and blew on them, dripping droplets onto the floor as he stepped further inside. A full body shiver coursed through him, before he gave a jaunty nod towards the cashier that he sensed staring his way. ❝...And a good evening to you, madam.❞
It didn't take Marty long to score what he'd come for. Once his purchases were safely stashed into a plastic bag he was well on his way out again, for all intents and purposes homeward bound. He searched through his pockets for his keys until he found them, jingling away. A smile smoothed the line of his lips, good humor unable to slip even just a little even caught out in the thick of the storm.
He only had a fraction of a second, but it was enough to register the reflection of a face staring back at him, and his expression transformed from jovial to confusion. Then, pain happened, and darkness swiftly rose to claim him. Well, that was all there was until he awoke. When Marty finally regained consciousness again, his head ached so badly that he could feel every beat of his heart throb in his skull.
The world came back to him. Cold. Wet. Hot. He found himself slumped against a wall, rain coursing down his face. And when he tried to move he was made aware of a glowing, white hot pain in his gut, although unable to understand why. That was at first, then it all started coming back to him in pieces. Sucking in a quick breath, Marty clenched his teeth in a half-hearted attempt to keep control, only to groan as his gaze lowered down, grimacing weakly when he saw that the front of his shirt was matted against his stomach, which was red with blood. His blood.
❝F-Fuck.❞ Fuck was right. He hadn't even gotten a good enough look at the guy that'd done this to him, and now he was sitting in the back of an alleyway, left there to bleed out slowly and painfully...like he was nothing more than a filthy, gutted animal.