Markus was cornered. Pressed against the dirty wall of the alley, as three alphas were towering over him. Markus was a small and weak omega, his scent mirroring the panic he was feeling. He hated alphas, he hated being small and weak, he hated being nothing to them in any regards whatsoever.
He was crying, squeezing his eyes shut, as one of them held his wrists above his head, muttering painful, dirty things in his ear, while the other two were ripping at his clothes.
emptynarration 