The crackling of the fire brought Ezra back to the present. Shirley was carving into the bird carcass with a well-worn knife, his movements slow but precise.
"Quit starin', kid," Shirley grumbled without looking up. "You're creepin' me out."
Ezra smirked and leaned back against the wall. "Just wondering if biting you again might get me another meal."
Shirley paused, looked up, and raised an eyebrow. "Try it, and I'll toss you back out into the storm."
Ezra chuckled, shaking his head as the fire crackled between them. For a fleeting moment, the small shelter felt warm—almost safe.
But that moment was short-lived.
Ezra froze as something shifted in the air. The warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, the shadows around them stretching and deepening unnaturally. A chill crept over his skin, prickling at the nape of his neck.
"Shirley?" Ezra whispered, his voice tight.
He turned toward where Shirley had been sitting moments ago—but the older man was gone. The skinned bird lay discarded on the floor, feathers scattered across the cracked tiles.
Before Ezra could react, a strong hand clamped over his mouth, yanking him backward. His heart leapt into his throat as Shirley's arm wrapped around his chest, pulling him into the shadows.
"Quiet," Shirley hissed, his voice barely audible.
Ezra's breath hitched as he tried to steady himself, but the tension in Shirley's grip made his pulse race. The older man's body was coiled like a spring, ready to snap into action.
Then Ezra heard it—a low, creaking sound, like floorboards groaning under a massive weight. The noise echoed through the shelter, sending a chill down his spine. He couldn't see anything in the dim light, but the sound grew louder, closer.
His eyes darted to the doorway, and his blood ran cold.
'What is that?'
A monstrous figure began to emerge from the shadows, its hulking form illuminated by the faint glow of the fire. It moved slowly, deliberately, each step causing the floor to groan beneath its weight. The creature's skin was a patchwork of dark, black feathers, its limbs unnaturally elongated. Its four glowing yellow eyes locked onto Ezra, unblinking and predatory.
The air grew heavy, thick with an oppressive aura that pressed down on Ezra's chest. He struggled to breathe, his fear rooting him in place.
The monster's movements were unsettlingly slow, almost calculated, as if it were savoring the moment. Its elongated claws scraped against the walls, leaving deep gouges in the crumbling plaster.
Ezra's wide eyes flicked to Shirley, who still held him firmly in place. The older man's face was unreadable, his sharp gaze locked on the creature. He radiated calm, but Ezra could feel the tension in his grip—a silent readiness to act.
The monster snarled—a guttural, wet sound that made Ezra's stomach churn. Its head tilted grotesquely, its glowing yellow eyes unblinking as it studied them. Then it moved, each step deliberate, its talons clicking against the floor.
Shirley's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Ezra's arm.
"Don't move," Shirley whispered, his voice steady but firm.
Ezra's heart pounded so loudly he was sure the creature could hear it. His mind screamed at him to run, to do something—anything—but Shirley's calm command rooted him in place.
The creature's cracked lips curled back, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth. It let out a low growl that reverberated through the room, shaking loose bits of plaster from the ceiling. Ezra winced, his hands instinctively flying to his ears to block out the noise.
Then the creature stopped. Its head twitched slightly, its glowing eyes narrowing as it sniffed the air. Slowly, it turned its gaze to a corner of the room where something shiny caught its attention.
Ezra's stomach dropped. The skinned chicken.
The creature crouched low, its sinewy arms reaching toward the discarded bird carcass. Its talons curled around the limp meat, lifting it slowly toward its gaping maw.
But then—it froze.
The monster's glowing eyes locked onto the shredded carcass in its hand. It tilted its head, its mandibles twitching with a sound like cracking glass. A deep, mournful sound rumbled from its throat—a sound so low it reverberated through Ezra's bones.
Ezra's breath hitched as the creature let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a whimper. Its talons tightened around the broken remains of the bird as its four glowing eyes glistened with something Ezra could only describe as grief.
The creature let out a long, keening wail—a sound filled with loss and fury, shaking dust loose from the ceiling. Its clawed hand began to tremble as it lowered the carcass back to the floor with unsettling gentleness.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ezra remained frozen, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Shirley hadn't moved either, though his grip on Ezra had eased slightly.