She could sense the man's presence before she saw him.

Emma hunched her shoulders, the warm material of her thick coat helping to block the chill that had shot down her spine at the sensation. Instead, she focused her attention on finishing locking down the store, jiggling the handle to be sure before dropping the key into her bag, and beginning to make her way home. The street was almost deserted, the temperature finally having dropped enough to convince even the most stubborn to venture inside, leaving only those who had no choice but to remain out. As she walked down the sidewalk, a cold gust of wind making the tails of her long coat shift against her legs, the sense, the uncomfortable tingling on the back of her neck, starts back up again, matched with the muffled sound of footsteps behind her.

Keeping her head straight and speed regular is hard, as the urge to look or run is practically screaming inside her head, but Emma still manages both. Her eyes began to dart from side to side, trying to use the storefronts to get a look of what was going on behind. There isn't much to be seen, only a few quick snapshots of the street before the angle gets messed up, but she thinks she sees two people, one on either side of the road, walking in her direction, and slowly closing the distance. Emma could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, her mind racing as she tried to come up with something, anything, that could help her. After a moment, her gaze locked onto a recess in the wall of stores, the entrance to an alleyway.

It wasn't perfect, but she didn't exactly have many options available right now.

Counting the steps in her head as she got closer, Emma was careful not to veer away from her path in the middle of the sidewalk, not wanting to give away her plan. As the alley mouth grew nearer, she closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath…and turned sharply, her shoes slapping against the concrete as she put on a burst of speed, darting from the well-lit street into the hollow void that could mean safety.

Behind her, she heard the footsteps grow louder and faster, her pursuers picking up the pace to catch up with her. She refused to relent, however, her legs working overtime while her free hand scrambled to open her bag, reaching for the bottle of mace she knew to be there. In the Glades, personal protection could be the difference between life and death, and, should she be caught, she had no intention of going down without a fight.

Unfortunately, as her fingers finally grazed the side of the can, she heard something else—the sound of footsteps coming from ahead of her. Gripping the can tightly, she raised her head to look, and was promptly met with a fist to the face, the force of the blow making her lose the grip of both can and bag, both clattering to the ground as she slammed into the filthy stone, head ringing and face burning from the strike. Before she had a chance even to get her bearing, Emma felt herself being hoisted up, strong hands grasping her arms as she was lifted into the air and forcefully pressed against the brick wall of the alley. Her head hit the brickwork sharply, the strike sending flashes of light dancing across her vision.

Through that haze, she could see three figures, the harsh grips on her arms and torso letting her know that they weren't looking to help her.

"Jesus, Sammy, you didn't have to hit her that hard." One of the men said, his hand gripping her chin as it turned her head side to side. "You know the boss doesn't want 'em damaged."

"Shut up," another man, presumably Sammy, snapped back, "she'll be fine. It's only a bit of blood."

"Both of you shut it!" The third man snapped, voice right by Emma's ear. As he spoke, his breath wafted across her face, and Emma's nose wrinkled at the putrid smell that came with it. "You got the van ready?"

"Yeah, just around the corner." Came the reply, and the words finally sunk in for Emma. She began to thrash about, although that did little, seeing as how her attackers were far strong than her, her head still ringing and body still sluggish from the blow that had got her here in the first place. Her jaw, however, was working just fine, and she opened her mouth to scream. Even here, even in the Glades, people still looked out for their own, and hopefully, someone would at least hear something.

Before she could make a single noise, however, she felt something being forced into her mouth, cutting off her shout before it even began and almost choking her.

"Don't even think about it." The third man grunted, as the other two pulled her forward, dragging her down the alley and towards their transport. "Besides, no one's here to help you anyway." Her heart sank in her chest as, despite her weak struggles, Emma could do nothing to escape what was coming, her feet dragging across the concrete ground as she was hauled along.

Suddenly, the man to her right let go, crying out in pain as he did. Emma turned to look as she fell, only avoiding another meeting with the ground due to the other man's grip on her left side. The man on her right was knelt on the ground, grabbing at his leg, and she could see something sticking through the denim. A small, sharp point, although it was practically invisible amidst the dark red blood surrounding it. She only had a second to look, before the man's leg was suddenly yanked backward and up, its owner letting out a scream of surprise and agony as he was first knocked to the ground, then pulled up into the air, dangling by his leg as he rose incredibly quickly.

Another sound rang out from several meters behind the small group, and all turned to look at its source. A figure had appeared, crouched on the stone with one hand braced for balance while the other was raised, holding what seemed to be a thin cable, pulled taut. As Emma watched, the cable was released, and the man dangling above them came right back down, his shouts growing louder for a brief moment before he slammed into the concrete, a thud and a crunch marking his sudden stop. Emma looked at the slumped form for a moment, unable to tell whether the man was alive or not, his body a twisted mass of limbs with a slowly growing amount of blood staining the stone beneath him.

Her attention was pulled away as the man holding her left side suddenly dragged her up, forcing her in front of him like a human shield. Had she not been so distracted, Emma would've rolled her eyes at the blatant show of cowardice. The criminal's action did little to help him, however, as the figure suddenly flung his arm around, the motion sending a pair of razor-sharp knives hurling through the air and slamming into the arm wrapped around Emma's torso. The man screamed, letting his makeshift shield go to clasp his wounded limb, falling to his knees and whimpering pathetically.

And so, there was only one grunt left. The man, having been as still as a statue as he'd watched his friends fall, one after the other, came alive with a roar, charging the shadowed figure and pulling out a large knife, clearly looking to gut this mysterious attacker. Emma watched, fixated, as the figure quickly ripped the blade from the brute's massive fist, spinning around and using the man's momentum to hurl him into the alley wall. This didn't stop the attack, as the man whirled back around, fists flying wildly as he attempted to fight, although he never even came close. The figure was like a force of nature, blocking the strikes and firing back with his own, the sounds of leather hitting flesh and, after only a moment, bones cracking echoing in the confined space. The fight, if it could even be called that, did not last much longer, and Emma almost winced as it was brought to a close with the figure, having brought the huge thug to his knees, smashing his foe's head against the cold concrete, the man's body falling limp after the third strike.

Silence fell back over the alleyway as Emma, still on the ground, stared at the figure that had, in less than a minute, taken down the three would-be kidnappers, in such a way that none would ever fully recover. The figure themself remained as silent as ever, crouched over his final victim. Emma watched as he reached down to the third man, a hand reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the man's phone, before rising and turning, seeming to stare directly at the young woman. Emma could only maintain her stare, even as the figure began to walk towards her, her eyes fixed on their face. Or rather, where their face should be. For, in place of eyes, nose and mouth, there was simply nothing, a black mask covering the man's head that was entirely featureless, the only sign of humanity being the impression of features beneath the fabric. The man didn't seem to notice her stare, or if he did, then he ignored her, moving past with long strides. Emma turned her head to follow, and saw him advancing on the second man, knives still sticking out of his arm, who was feebly trying to crawl away. She winced as the figure's leg lashed out once close enough, connecting with the man's head in a vicious kick that saw him flop onto his back, unmoving, and with blood leaking from his nose.

"Anyone there?" The sudden call from the mouth of the alley caused Emma's head to whip around, catching sight of the two outlines illuminated by the light from the main road, enough for her to notice the glint from the police badges on their chests. Even in the low light, the image of a woman surrounded by three laid out bodies was clear enough to see, and the officers wasted no time in approaching. As they did, Emma looked back towards the figure, wondering what was going to happen next. Savior or not, they were a vigilante, something that the cops hadn't been too keen on since the Hood came to town.

But there was no figure to be found. The alley was empty.