The death of the monster seemed to have washed away the tension between the two warring groups. For now, at least. Cheers erupted in the aftermath of their victory, and people danced, laughed, and drank with wild abandon.
But Ezra wasn't celebrating.
He had bigger problems—the kind that had landed him in this mess to begin with.
Stealing had become a routine. Ezra couldn't help it. Was it his fault he had a problem? No matter how hard he tried, something always seemed to find its way into his hands—or pockets—often without him even realizing it.
This morning had started smoothly enough. Ezra had set his sights on a shop, confident that no one would notice a quick grab. Spoiler: they did. He'd woken up with his stomach growling like a feral animal, driven by desperation into another impulsive decision.
What he hadn't accounted for was being caught red-handed by four burly men who clearly had nothing better to do. Negotiation? Not an option. The first fist to his jaw had made that painfully clear. For what felt like an eternity, they'd taken turns turning him into their personal punching bag.
Eventually, they'd gotten bored and left him crumpled in an alley, drenched in blood, bruised, and very, very hungry.
Still, Ezra had his priorities straight. Patting down his pockets, he searched for his prize—his hard-earned snack—only to come up empty. Frowning, he glanced around and spotted a glint of foil a few meters away, catching faint light from a flickering neon sign.
Before he could retrieve it, another issue demanded his attention—his clothes. Or, more accurately, the sad remnants of them.
His trousers were hanging on by a literal thread. One wrong move, and his bare backside would become a public spectacle.
"Great," he muttered, inspecting the shredded fabric. "Because being half-dead isn't embarrassing enough. Let's add public nudity to the mix."
His gaze shifted to a nearby corpse, and an idea—an admittedly questionable one—slid into his mind.
"You know…" Ezra mused aloud, limping toward the body. "I don't think there's any harm in taking a dead guy's clothes. I mean, it's not like he's going to miss them. Think of it as… battle loot. Yeah, that's reasonable."
With zero hesitation, Ezra began stripping the lifeless body. When he was done, the unfortunate victim lay in nothing but their undergarments, while Ezra now sported a slightly oversized outfit that felt like heaven compared to his previous rags.
"See?" he said, gesturing at the body. "I didn't even take everything. I left you your underwear. What can I say? I'm a man of principles."
Adjusting the collar of his newly acquired shirt, he sighed in satisfaction. "By the way, this is really comfortable. You had good taste. Thanks for the donation."
Feeling a faint twinge of guilt—not much, but enough—Ezra clasped his hands together and muttered a quick prayer.
"May you rest in peace or whatever. Don't haunt me, okay? I even prayed for you."
With that minor moral dilemma resolved, Ezra turned his attention back to his prize. But the foil wrapper was gone.
His frown deepened as his eyes scanned the area, spotting a faint trail of crumpled foil leading into a shadowy corner.
"Alright," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Which greedy bastard took my food? I earned that, thank you very much."
His stomach growled in agreement, spurring him forward. But as he followed the trail, Ezra's earlier bravado began to waver. The shadows ahead were thicker than they should've been, pooling unnaturally in the narrow space. A chill crawled up his spine.
"Maybe I should turn back," he whispered, hesitation creeping into his voice. But then his stomach growled again, louder this time. Ezra shook his head. "Nope. Not happening. I didn't get my ass kicked just to starve."
The faint trail of foil ended at an impossibly dark corner, where the dim lighting failed to penetrate the oppressive shadows. The air felt heavier here, almost suffocating, and a sharp metallic smell lingered—like blood and rust.
Ezra crouched cautiously, squinting into the darkness. Then, he saw them—two glowing eyes staring back at him.
Unblinking. Luminous. Unnatural.
His breath caught in his throat. "Oh… well, that's not creepy at all."
The shadows shifted, and a silhouette began to emerge. The figure was tall—far too tall—and impossibly thin, its elongated frame barely fitting within the confined space. The air around it felt… wrong.
Ezra's palms began to sweat. His knees felt locked in place, but his survival instinct screamed at him to run.
"Y-you know," he stammered, taking a shaky step backward, "I wasn't that hungry. You can keep it. Really. I didn't mean to call you a pig. That was, uh… hunger talking."
His foot caught on one of the discarded wrappers, and he stumbled backward, landing hard on the cold ground. The creature stepped closer, its full form finally slipping free from the shadows.
It was skeletal, its discolored, molten skin stretched so thin that the bone structure underneath was clearly visible. Its clawed hands dragged against the ground, leaving deep grooves in the concrete. The faint light caught on its sunken face, illuminating hollow sockets where eyes should have been.
Yet, those glowing orbs remained—embedded somewhere deeper, staring into Ezra's very soul.
"Okay," Ezra said weakly, forcing a smile. "You're clearly not a fan of sharing. Totally get it."
The creature tilted its head unnaturally, its neck bones cracking audibly as it moved. Its maw split open—wide, impossibly wide—revealing jagged teeth slick with dark ichor.
Then, it screeched.
The sound was piercing, sharp enough to make Ezra's ears ring. His breath hitched, panic finally breaking his paralysis.
"Yep," he muttered, scrambling to his feet. "I'm out."
But the creature lunged, claws extended, maw gaping. Ezra dove to the side just in time, feeling the rush of air and the sharp sting of displaced debris against his cheek.
His heart thundered in his chest as he stumbled to his feet and bolted down the alley, the sound of scraping claws and guttural snarls echoing behind him.
"Great, Ezra," he panted. "Next time, just leave the snack behind! Not worth dying over!"