Chapter 4: Nowhere to Hide
The figures stood at the alley's entrance, unmoving. Their featureless faces sent a chill down my spine.
Sophie gripped my arm. "Ethan, what do we do?"
Mark raised his camera, recording in shaky, frantic motions. "We need to move before they—"
Before he could finish, the figures shifted. They didn't walk—they glided, closing the distance between us in an instant.
I grabbed Sophie's wrist and ran. "Go! Now!"
We sprinted through the alley, our footsteps echoing against the decayed brick walls. The passage twisted, narrowing between looming buildings, the shadows pressing in. The city felt like a maze—every turn led to another darkened street, another alley, another dead end.
Mark panted beside me. "We're trapped. Every road looks the same!"
"We have to find a building to hide in!" I shouted.
Sophie pointed to a metal door on the side of a ruined café. "There!"
I yanked on the handle. It didn't budge. Locked.
The whispers returned, growing louder.
I turned. The figures were at the mouth of the alley, their bodies flickering like candle flames.
Mark slammed his shoulder against the door. "Damn it, open!"
A sharp metallic click. The door gave way, and we tumbled inside, slamming it shut behind us.
Darkness swallowed us whole.
The only light came from Mark's camera and Sophie's flashlight, casting long, jagged shadows across shattered tables and overturned chairs. Dust hung thick in the air, untouched for years.
I pressed my ear against the door. Silence.
"Did we lose them?" Sophie whispered.
Mark was still catching his breath. "I don't know… but I don't think they're normal."
I exhaled, my pulse still hammering. "Nothing about this place is normal."
Then, from somewhere deep inside the café, a floorboard creaked.
We weren't alone.
To be continued…