I make my commute and get home, thankfully not finding any cop cars outside, yet. I couldn’t help but wonder if that shrink was hoping I’d change my mind and “come peacefully”, or if the cops were just lazy about this lead. Regardless, I waste no time in slipping in, changing into a different shirt entirely and pulling my hoodie out of the dryer. I run my finger over a single tear on the hood from the beast’s claws and shudder.

I waste no time in scraping together every scrap of cash I have and stuffing it in my bag, alongside a few changes of clothing and my personal 14-inch laptop and charger, guarded by its own protective padding within the bag and flanked by folded clothes for more protection. I pause and think about my spontaneous idea from earlier today, and equally spontaneously I fit a notepad and a few writing implements into the bag as well.

I round my equipment load with a phone charger, a battery bank, and a small selection of medical supplies from my cabinet. I peek outside my window to find a cop car outside of the building. That motherfucker… I clench a fist at nobody in particular before I snatch a set of fingerless gloves and sneak out the back.

Half an hour later, I finally think of an actual, specific plan, or at least a ghost of a plan. I don’t actually have everything I’ll need to survive, so I’ll have to just go to a proper supermarket and load up. I pull out my phone and check my map briefly to get my bearings. The nearest route takes me through a relatively low-traffic part of town, and just now the sun is setting. What a coincidence. It’s almost as if the app is in on the joke.

I think to set up the phone so that my flashlight app can be accessed quickly, pocketing it. I then walk down the street and feel spine chills yet again, coinciding with someone walking down the sidewalk in my direction. I look around, and notice the street is clear, so I walk to the other side of the street.

Then, I notice another person, walking on the same side of the sidewalk as me, towards me. My eyes search around, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but find nothing yet. I tense up as he approaches… and then he turns and walks down a different route. I audibly exhale, but I still have chills; it’s still up in the air. Perhaps, though, I can get through without another encounter—

Interrupting that thought, I see a different person walking down the street, except he’s one of them, greeting me with an array of needle-teeth. I turn around to find another one on the opposite side of me. They’re both rapidly approaching, and I don’t think crossing the street will do me any good, so I retreat and run down a nearby, albeit suspicious-looking alley.

In the dimming light of the alley, I see a third one standing right by a dumpster acting as a choke-point and grumble, fumbling for my knife in my pockets, my nerves betraying my hands. Then my eyes run across another detail—this one’s claws are far longer than normal, like pocketknives stitched right onto its fingertips. I could almost imagine them ripping through flesh even from all the way over here…

One knife is useless against eight, so my harried mind cobbles together a desperate plan as I hear footsteps accelerate behind me. I don’t dare to look back to confirm that retreat is not an option. I look to my left to find a metal trashcan and I pull the lid off by the handle, gripping it and unlocking my phone in my other hand.

My heart pounds as I hear wicked, eager cackles ringing from behind, like hyenas emerging from the abyss itself, and I charge at the freak in front of me. It accepts the challenge, presenting its teeth and growling in a manner approximating that of a tiger, widening its stance, ready to pounce. At the last second I hit the flashlight button and hold my phone around my shield, eliciting a hiss as it raises a hand to shield its eyes. Continuing my charge, I ram the rim of the lid into its shoulder, thwarting its swipe and shoving it aside violently as I stumble from the impact, dropping the lid and almost falling over like a pile of loose bricks. I get a glimpse of the beast being shoved into a dumpster with an audible clang as I dare to look behind me, but the others still chase eagerly.

I turn back around and keep running the rest of the way through the alley and out into another street, turning left with no plan left but to desperately hope that there isn’t a fourth one perfectly positioned to block my path—and that my now-tiring lungs wouldn’t fail me. I then find three more people walking down the street towards my path from around a corner. Well, shit, guess I’m dead. That’s all I could think, except they don’t actually turn into beasts as they near me and pass on by.

I dared to hope, so I looked behind me to see one of them staring out at me, with the same eager eyes I was almost getting used to. Almost. I watched its face transition back to that of a woman, but her eyes lingered before reverting to follow her face. Then, I watch her go back into the alleyway. It’s as if she was sending a message;

This isn’t over.

We won’t stop until you’re dead.

When we’re done, we’ll enjoy your flesh like a well-seasoned rotisserie chicken.

I think that stare alone’s gonna give me nightmares.