Part-6

  Rain shed against James' face as they shoved him down a narrow alleyway, the uneven cobblestones scraping his skin with each stumble. Fear, cold and primal, coiled in his gut. The bravado he'd shown earlier was a distant memory, repced by the desperate o escape.

  But escape proved impossible. The bullies, emboldened by their overwhelming advantage, ered him against a brick wall. James, his breath ing in ragged gasps, braced himself for the onsught. Punches rained down on him like hailstones, leaving bruises blooming across his exposed skiried to fight back, swinging his fists with all his might, but his blows cked the force to nd any real damage.

  The bullies seemed to revel in his pain, their ughter eg off the damp brick walls. One of them, a wiry boy with a cruel glint in his eyes, nded a particurly vicious blow to James' stomach, doubling him over with a pained gasp. Tears welled up in James' eyes, blurring his vision. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, threatening to send him sprawling to the ground. But he forced himself to stay upright, fueled by a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would hear their otion and e to his aid.

  Suddenly, the world tilted. A siing crack echoed through the alley as Lemon ected with James' head, wielding a metal rod he'd snatched from a nearby garbage . The pain exploded in a white-hot wave, stealing James' breath and sending him crumpling to the ground. He y there, his body a broken puppet, the air knocked from his lungs. A choked sob escaped his lips as a wave of nausea washed over him.

  Through the haze of pain, James saw Lemon looming over him, the metal rod glinting menagly in the dim light. A chilling realization dawned on him. This wasn't just about reve was about dominance, about crushing the defiance he'd dared to show. In that moment, James knew he was in serious danger.

  Panic surged through the narrow alley. The rain, a relentless drumbeat moments ago, seemed to hold its breath. James y motionless, a broken figure crumpled against the cold brick. One of the bullies, a sy boy named Mark, his face pale, stammered, "Lemon... you think you killed him?"

  The metal rod cttered to the ground as Lemon, the bravado drained from his face, stared at James with a mixture of fear and disbelief. He k beside James, his hand h hesitantly over his chest. "Crap," he muttered, the word thick with dawning realization. "I... I went too far."

  Another bully, a hulking brute ony, k beside James, his fingers fumbling for a pulse. The seds stretched into an agoniziernity. Finally, Tony shook his head, his voice barely a whisper, "He's cold. No pulse."

  Terror, rarimal, gripped them. They had e here to settle a score, not beurderers. The alley, once a haven for their bullying, now felt like a tomb. The rain, resuming its relentless rhythm, seemed to mock their fear.

  "We gotta get out of here," hissed Mark, his voice trembling. "There's no camera, right?"

  They all sed the alley, their eyes darting nervously. Relief washed over them when they firmed the absence of any CCTV. "No cameras," Tony firmed, his voice tight.

  "Let's go," Lemon rasped, his bravado shattered. "We 't stay here."

  They fled the alley like rats from a sinking ship, the rain washing away their footprints, but not their guilt. James, unscious and alone, y uhe cold gaze of the streetmp, the rain a chilling terpoint to the warmth that had seeped from his body.