Oscar hit the mat. Hard. It had been the type of hit he didn’t see coming and had been sent reeling by. Upon colliding with the ground the familiar smell of sweat and cleaner met his nostrils. Though it was hard to take notice while stars floated about. A few moments passed and he regained his senses.

“Martinez, you alright?” A deep voice cut through the ambient noise of chatter and weight training.

“Yeah.” Oscar replied as he leaned up.

A large hand had been reaching down to help him to his feet. He would’ve taken it gladly but his hands were covered by a pair of large and cumbersome boxing gloves. Though that didn’t stop the man offering it as he grabbed Oscar’s wrist when presented to help haul the man to his feet.

“Thanks, coach.” Oscar said with a grin on his face. Despite the punch to the face, his pride seemed to have avoided the hit.

“You’ll have to work on your focus.” An older man grunted. He stroked a thick, graying mustache. 

“Other than that, good footwork. Mike got you good. The world still spinning for you?”

Oscar took a moment to look at his surroundings. He was still in the training ring. A couple of the guys were working on their form on the bags. The sun still seemed to be shining, albeit a little less as the afternoon approached.

“Nah, everything seems good, Coach.” He stated with a nod.

“Good. Get yourself cleaned up and get some rest.” Coach replied with a wave. 

Oscar felt a towel hit him in the face as the older man tossed it at him.

“Good fight there, Oscar.” A tall blonde man said. There was a playful punch directed at his shoulder.

“Yeah, you too.” Oscar replied with a smirk. The sound of velcro ripping could be heard as he began to remove his gloves.

When his hands were finally loose from the confines of the synthetic fiber Oscar took to stepping out of the ring. He began to towel his face from the downpour of sweat that had built up on his face and neck.

“Any plans tonight, man?” Mike asked as he followed behind.

“Nah.” Oscar shook his head. He had begun making his way to his locker. “Likely just going to go home and make some dinner.”

“What about your cardio?”

With a grunt and a tug Oscar pulled at the rusted metal surface of his locker until it finally came loose with a loud squeak. He glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. 

“I mean I already walked here. Figured I’d just jog back.”

He reached into the container to pull out his regular clothes. A thick white hoodie, pair of older sneakers, a black t-shirt, and another set of workout shorts.

“Fair enough.” Mike replied. “Just be careful, lotta people been going missing lately.”

“Thanks. Though they’d have to be pretty crazy to go after anyone from around here.” Oscar said as he turned to go to the changing room. 

Mike shrugged in response and turned to head back to the bags.

Oscar took a bit of time to get himself cleaned up. It wasn’t much beyond washing his hands and scrubbing his face. A shower would have to wait at home, especially considering the jog he would be taking. He took the time to change into his actual clothing as opposed to…well…the boxing shorts and shoes that he had been wearing.

He offered a wave to his friends and a word of goodbye before stepping out into the afternoon light. His breath frosted slightly in the cold fall weather as the sounds of traffic greeted his ears. The streets weren’t packed quite yet. He had just enough time before everyone left from work to crowd the streets that lie between towering skyscrapers.

Not that they weren’t crowded yet with tourists and people going about their day to day business. It was enough to navigate though. His feet began to hit the pavement with a thump, thump, thumping. 

He’d likely make it home just before nightfall.

As he made his usual route back to the apartment complex, dodging people as he did, he heard a sound. From a nearby alley. There was a crashing noise, then another, a few grunts came as well. His brow furrowed…he remembered what Mike had told him about people going missing.

He went against his better judgment to leave well enough alone and slowed down to a walk. His breath was still running in quick pants that he tried to quiet down as he listened.

Another crash, like a garbage can being knocked over. His face twisted in a grimace as he peered down the alley it sounded to be coming from. The street seemed to be cleared out already, odd for this time of day. There was a flicker of doubt as the noises continued. Should he get involved? He could probably just call the cops and be done with it.

Then he heard a man crying out in pain.

What doubts he had fled him as he sprinted down the alley to investigate. As he rounded a corner he saw the source of the commotion. A pair of large men, both wearing suits, were beating mercilessly on a third. They had him cornered and stuck on a garbage can as one repeatedly kicked the downed person’s side.

“Hey!” Oscar shouted.

It was enough to get the men’s attention. They immediately ceased beating on the poor guy on the ground and slowly turned to face the source of the noise.

“I think whatever point you had you got across.” Oscar continued as the men stared at him.

They seemed completely unamused by the interruption. Deep scowls were painted on their faces as one slowly began to step forwards. He had long black hair with a pair of green streaks running through it. The way he moved his head made it seem like the colors were flowing like little flickers of fire.

“I think, for your own good, you should go somewhere else.” The man grunted in a deep, low growl.

“And if I don’t?” Oscar felt his shoulders tense up as he locked eyes with the person in front of him.

The larger man threw a clumsy fist out at Oscar’s face. It was easy enough to predict as Oscar dipped to the side. His hands were now up to his face defensively. 

He had tried to do this diplomatically.

The swing at his head had been wide enough to leave his assaulter’s torso open. With one good swing he slammed his fist directly into their liver. The black-haired individual didn’t seem to react too much to the hit. At first. He seemed gearing up to take another swing at Oscar, actually.

Then his face began to contort from frustration to pain as he stumbled backwards and hit the ground with a groan.

Ordinarily Oscar would have followed up, but he also had someone else to worry about. The second man, one with a thick mane of red hair and a bushy beard, rushed forwards and took a swing as well.

Oscar blocked the punch with his forearm. A familiar pain surged through his body. It was easily ignored, but he had to give a bit of ground and back up before the bearded man threw another punch out. It whizzed through the air and left the bearded man unbalanced. Oscar stepped back immediately afterwards to clear the distance and keep both men in his line of sight.

An idea that turned out to work in his favor as an old glass bottle flew into the space he had previously been occupying. It shattered against the wall in a myriad of glass shards.

Now that was just plain dirty.

Oscar gave pause as he stood at the corner of a large dumpster. He’d use it for cover if another projectile came hurtling his way. With his fists up he glanced between the two men as they cautiously approached.

“Listen. You don’t gotta get yourself involved like this.” The man with black hair said. He seemed to be nursing his side.

Seemed that hit might’ve taken the wind out of his sails.

“Just let us do our thing and we don’t gotta escalate this.”

“I’ll have to say no to that.” Oscar replied as his eyebrows folded into a glare. 

He leaned forwards to reduce his frame and got ready to dash forward and take another swing. It was two on one but Oscar felt he had the advantage currently. It would at least buy him some time to get that other poor bastard out of here.

At least that’s what he was hoping would happen.

From out of the blue the third man came charging. He wasn’t a particularly tall soul, nor did he really have all that mass to speak of. Though the black haired man definitely noticed when the third careened into his legs like a bowling ball. 

Oscar saw a flash of silver in the man’s hands. He quickly realized it was a garbage can lid.

That…seemed like a bit much.

“Take out the other one!” The smaller man shouted. There was a loud, metallic WHAM as he began swinging the lid down.

Oscar was about to do something to hopefully de-escalate the situation, but he was quickly caught off-guard by the bearded guy. Seemed the large fellow wasn’t quite finished and managed to shoulder-check Oscar in his stomach.

Oscar gave a wheeze as the air was knocked out of him. He flew backwards into the dumpster pain seared across his back. 

He’d had worse.

When his feet touched on the ground he jumped to the side before the bearded man could get another hit in. 

A fortunate move as a large fist collided with the dumpster, followed by a howl of pain. Oscar took the opportunity to give a solid hit on the guy’s jaw. A strike that sent his opponent spinning to the ground. Though not after colliding with the side of the dumpster on the way down.

Oscar took a moment to catch his breath. He winced slightly at the hit he’d gotten. His hand hovered over his stomach as it ached with a dull throb.

That’d definitely be a bruise in the morning.

He heard another loud WHAM and was about to turn around to stop that particular assault. Though he was interrupted by someone pushing him. It wasn’t a tackle, but it wasn’t insignificant either.

“Go, go, GO!” Oscar heard the smaller man shouting. “We gotta get out of here before they get back up!”

“Get back up?” Oscar stopped the smaller man in his tracks. He was still a good deal larger. About half a head’s worth of height to be specific.

The boxer had turned his head to look at the damage that had been done. As he suspected, both of the men that attacked him were out cold on the ground. 

“I don’t think they’ll be getting back up anytime soon.” He continued with his arms crossed. “So, you mind telling me what’s going on?”

The smaller man continued to try and push Oscar as he growled. Oscar, truthfully, felt pretty bad for him. He seemed like he was in a bad way. Dirty, matted hair, tired eyes. Hell it looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

He didn’t smell too good either…

“We don’t have time for explanations!” He continued to cry.

Oscar didn’t budge.

“I think you do-”

He had started to speak, but a feeling had started overtaking him. It felt almost as if he were…flying? His feet felt like they were attached to nothing and his head felt light.

“Damn it all.” The grungy hobo growled. He reached into his pocket.

For a brief moment Oscar thought he was going for a gun. Though to his surprise the man produced a rusty horseshoe of all things.

And then planted it firmly in Oscar’s hand.

“Keep this on you!” He shouted. “Find Nevetta! Don’t draw attention to yourself! I’ll get you out of this!”

As the shorter man shouted Oscar could hear his voice fading. Though it wasn’t just the voice that faded away.

The whole world seemed to dissipate into thin air, leaving only blackness behind. 

Not silence, however.

The sound of a drip-drip-dripping could be heard. It was a hollow, echoey noise. It was also cold. It was the kind of cold that was wet, damp, and clinging. Like a winter day walking by the pier.

As Oscar’s eyes began to adjust to the new environment he saw that there was a little light. A small glow from the distance…He felt around. His hand eventually brushed against a rough stone surface. He felt his other hand release the horseshoe that he had been holding. It crashed to the ground in a loud clang.

He was definitely not in the city anymore.