Prompt: Rudolph
🔴🔴🔴
----Arin stumbled as he was thrown out the back door, the cold and empty alley much different from the stuffy club he had been dragged to hours ago. He had mostly tried to stick with his pal, but ended up getting lost in the sea of people and angering some tough fellows. He's not even sure what exactly he did, but it could have been from stepping on their shoes to throwing a drink in their face.
He's pretty damn sure he did neither, but the world had a funny sense of justice.
" What the hell! What did I do!" Arin said angrily, turning around to face his demise. His black and pink hoodie and torn jeans didn't make him look intimidating, but he was 25% ready for a bare knuckle brawl. Three dudes, mostly dressed in black, all cracked their knuckles like some cliche highschool coming of age movie. One had brass knuckles, which made Arin fear sweat a bit.
" Beat it asshole. If you leave now, you'll have a lighter hospital bill" One with a ratty beanie growled, the other two behind them blocking the door. Arin stood his ground, fists lightly clenched like he was actually confident that we would win against all three. " Fuck off! I'll go whoever I want!" He barked, face lightly red with anger and the chilly winter air. He regretted not tying his his back as the one with brass knuckles, unimpressed, left his post at the door and decided that Arin was better dead than alive.
" Aye, when you're down with his sorry ass, meet us on Murphy Street" the other two laughed, slamming the door behind them as they reentered the deaning music of the club. Arin was left in the cold alley with a slightly larger, and much more intimidating than him, thug.
Without any hesitation, he threw a punch that barely missed Arin's face. In a lucky chance, he stumbled back just in time, but didn't have enough time to recover as the other fist was thrown his way. It socked him right in the gut at close range, making the attack a bit worse. He wheezed as he tripped, falling backwards against the wall as he held his sore abdomen.
He winced in pain, but his eyes opened wide in fear as the glittering metallic image of the brass knuckles filled his vision and crashing into his nose. " Fuck! Jesus Christ!" Arin yelled, holding his face as he glared at the stranger. Blood seeped onto his lips and stained his hand as he used the grimy wall to support himself. He moved his hands away gingerly and tried to maintain in a simple facial expression that wouldn't hurt to much.
The thug wore a triumphant smile, believing that a weakling like Arin wouldn't dare fight back. " Hey, looks like Rudolph look a tumble! Looks like Santa doesn't need your pathetic ass!" He taunted, getting to close to Arin's injured form.
" Shove it ass breath!" He barked, bloodstained hands grabbing his opponent by the collar. He threw him on the ground with new found strength, knees landing harshly on his ribs. Arin repeatedly bashed his face with fist after fist, knuckles now red from both the strangers and his blood.
" Don't you ever, EVER, talk to me again!" Arin growled, grabbing his shirt shaking the brute with a maniac's force. With a final solid collision with Arin's hand to his face, Arin released him and stood up. He was now breathing heavy, cheeks a rosy red and rose still dripping blood. His whole body ached, but he ignored it as he strode out of the alley and away from the brawl he had just engaged in.
He shakily pulled out his phone, which somehow remained uncracked from his pocket, scrolling through his few contacts before deciding on the one who would want the least explaining.
" ....."
" Uh, Dan?
" Yeah, um....can you come pick me up? It's.... Been a rough night"
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Is it sad?
I don't know
I wanted some violence
Maybe another prompt will be like a part two for this?