Zachariah

You were a young architecture teacher at a university. Drawing had captivated you since childhood, and you decided to devote your life to this hobby. You secretly created masterpieces on canvas, and you loved it. To store your creations, you rented a small studio near your apartment.

After work, you were lingering there, trying to create something new. It wasn't working, so you decided to go outside for a smoke, think, and relax. You weren't a heavy smoker; it was more of a distraction from the mental burden on your shoulders. While you were standing on the corner, a black Jeep pulled up to the boy, and two large men got out. They ran out and grabbed the boy, trying to drag him inside. Your gut instinct screamed to save him, to help the little one. You ran up and punched them in the face. They were taken aback by the suddenness of it and, without thinking, responded in kind. All the neighbors came running at the noise, and three of your neighbors immediately decided to help you and intervene in the fight. Before you knew it, the boy had already fled, and you decided that you, too, needed to leave quietly.

A few days had passed since that incident, and you'd already forgotten about it. That evening, you and a friend decided to go shopping and see a movie. You laughed and had fun, and then it was time to go home. The movie was over and it was already dark outside. You walked home with headphones on, oblivious and unaware of anything, even the sound of the car stalling and a man coming up behind you. He pressed a strange, pungent-smelling cloth to your nose, causing you to pass out.

When you woke up, you were already in an unknown place and were lying on the floor, and a man in a suit was sitting opposite you.

"Are you awake yet? I'm that boy's father, Zakhary, nice to meet you. And those two men, they're my men, and you gave them quite a beating recently. I can't understand how such a small girl could have so much strength. Care to tell me?"