The police car's door closed with and audible clack, and a moment later, it drove off at an unrestrained speed, disappearing behind a corner. The red haired youth paid it no mind. His eye were on the establishment in front of him, which had been dubbed the Red Fist Bar as the large sign above its doors says.
The terrible name didn't register in his mind—it wouldn't be up that long, anyway. Lowering his gaze, he stared at the door for a moment, lifted his leg, and took a step. No sooner had his foot touched the ground than every bird in the area took flight at once. The atmosphere changed, and silence swallowed the world. It was almost like the calm before the storm, but whatever tension it brought, when compared to what's to come, it paled entirely.
