Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

I was walking my dog, Muscles, a Rottweiler built like a tank, and the night felt ordinary at first. The air was cold, thick with fog rolling off the streets, but there was a tension I couldn’t shake. Muscles’ ears twitched, his growl low and deliberate. He wasn’t reacting to the stray cat crossing the sidewalk or the rumble of a passing car. No—there was something far more dangerous lurking just beyond the dim streetlights. We had barely crossed the first block when the sound of a motorcycle e