"Officer—"
Henry Caldwell stumbled and scrambled up from the ground, covered in injuries. He practically crawled to the police officer's feet, and then...
He burst into tears!
The officers were baffled. "Uh... young man, don't cry. What's your name?"
"Henry Caldwell. I'm Henry Caldwell."
Henry Caldwell wiped the blood and grime from his face. It had already been beaten up before, and now, after another pummeling, he was a far cry from his usual self. It was no wonder the officers didn't recognize him at first.
Henry Caldwell?
That name certainly rang a bell.
But...
'What the hell is he crying for!'
He wasn't a child or a young girl. He was a grown man in his thirties, a blubbering mess of snot and tears, leaving the officers completely at a loss.
"Just stop crying. What are you crying about?" one of the officers said, his head aching.
"Them, it was them..." Henry Caldwell pointed a finger at the three men not far away.
