"Help me!" The man cried out in an accent Maddy couldn't pin down. Tears streaked down his face. He repeated even louder, "Help me!"

Maddy clutched the remote control against his chest as the man tried to open the door, his breaths and movements growing more desperate and erratic by the second. Their gazes met, and Maddy sucked in a shakey breath before saying, "S-sorry, Sir, we're closed."

"Please!" The man choked out. "Let me in!"

Maddy retreated, his back hitting the cool wood of the bar. "We're closed," He repeated, his throat tight as he took in the man's ragged appearance. Underneath his singed tunic and ripped white shirt, his skin was black and blistered from burns, and Maddy couldn't help but compare it to overcooked steak that was still raw on the inside. "If-If you're hurt please go to a hospital."

The lock snapped. The man burst through the door, collapsing onto the floor with a thud. His head struck the tile, a sickening crack echoing in the stillness. Maddy screamed, scrambling behind the counter. He snatched a glass from the shelf, raising it as a makeshift weapon, his eyes wide with terror and his heart a frantic drum against his ribs.

Seconds seemed to pass slower than centuries as Maddy waited for the man to get up. But he never did. And after a few minutes, he was almost wishing for the figure on the floor to stand up. To beg him for money, to tell him he was part of a shitty "social experiment" for the internet. Maddy's arm grew tired holding the glass above his head. He brought it down slowly, and cautiously made his way out from behind the bar.

"Hello? Sir?" He called out tentatively, but there was no response. Maddy edged closer to the body. He knelt beside the man and scrunched up his nose as a pungent smell wafted off him. A mixture of burnt flesh, stale wine, and something strange. The kind of strange that humans didn't possess. It made his skin crawl as if there were dozens of unseen fire ants out on a hunt for their next meal. He pushed down the sensation and murmured, "Are you alright?-"

The stranger's hand jutted out, cold and clammy, yanking Maddy close enough to feel his hot breath against his face. Electricity sparked between them and Maddy seethed as he tried to shake himself free. Heat rushed up his arm and through his veins in the same fashion as a lit wick of dynamite. It exploded in his chest and rushed back down into his hand. Maddy let out a choked cry of pain.

The man spoke in a language that was foreign to Maddy as he held him in an iron grip.

"I-I don't… I don't understand." Maddy spoke slowly, his head spinning and eyes blurring.

The man stopped babbling and looked at Maddy with deep sorrow etched in his face. Maddy didn't notice until now that the man's eyes were a dark shade of emerald green, only a couple of shades darker than his own, and with each moment that passed between them, the life in those eyes seemed to dim.

His breathing became stagnant and with the last of his will, he said, "Help me… Belvie… I'm…"

His grip slackened, his head lolling back. Maddy sat there, numb with shock, horror, and a strange sense of loss. He didn't know who this man was, what he wanted, or the meaning of his final words. But one thing was certain: his life had just taken a sharp turn down a path he never knew existed.

The silence was broken only by the faint sounds of the news reporter on the TV and the echo of a question that resonated in Maddy's mind: who was Belvie, and why did this stranger need their help?