Atlas’s heart pounded in his chest, his eyes wide as they strained to adjust to the sudden darkness. His fingers gripped the first-aid kit so tightly the plastic creaked under the pressure.

   "Great. Just great," Ivory muttered, his tone so dry it could’ve ignited a forest fire. “This is exactly what I needed today—total darkness and the promise of death. Thanks, universe.”

   “Could you, I don’t know, not talk for like five seconds?!” Atlas whispered harshly, his voice trembling. He hated how panicked he sounded, but the ominous note still clenched in his hand wasn’t helping. They come when the lights go out.

   A sudden metallic clatter shattered the tense silence. Both boys froze.

   “Was that you?” Atlas whispered, his voice barely audible.

Ivory’s emerald eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness as he shot him a look. “Yeah, I just thought I’d casually throw a can across the room to lighten the mood. Of course it wasn’t me!”

   Another sound—a faint scraping, like nails dragging across a tile floor—echoed through the store. This time, it was closer.

   Atlas clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take shallow breaths. His nerves were unraveling fast. He shoved the first-aid kit into his backpack and pulled out the Glock, his sweaty hands fumbling with the safety.

   Ivory crouched beside him, his sharp features tense but calm in the dim light. “Whatever it is,” he whispered, “it’s not a zombie. Too quiet. Too… calculated.”

Atlas swallowed hard. “That’s not helping.”

   Ivory glanced at him, their faces only inches apart. Despite the fear coursing through him, Atlas couldn’t help but notice how piercing Ivory’s eyes were, even in the dark. For a split second, the world felt smaller—quieter—like it was just the two of them, huddled together against the unknown.

Then, the shadow moved again. A faint hiss, like steam escaping a pipe, broke the moment.

“We need to leave,” Atlas said, his voice shaking.

   “No kidding,” Ivory replied, his tone unusually soft, almost reassuring. “But in case you haven’t noticed, it’s between us and the exit.”

   Atlas scanned the store, his eyes landing on the back wall. “There’s a storage room. Maybe there’s another way out?”

Ivory hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. Lead the way, hero.”

   They crept toward the back of the store, their steps agonizingly slow on the broken glass and debris littering the floor. Atlas tried to focus on the task at hand, but his mind kept wandering to the way Ivory’s hand had brushed against his when they started moving—an accidental, fleeting touch that lingered in his thoughts.

   The clicking sound grew louder, followed by the faintest growl.

They reached the storage room door. Atlas grabbed the handle and pushed—it didn’t budge.

“Of course it’s locked,” Ivory muttered under his breath.

   Atlas fumbled in his backpack, pulling out a pocketknife. “Give me a second,” he said, his voice trembling.

   “We don’t have a second,” Ivory snapped, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes widened. “It’s coming.”

   The shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, its form barely visible in the faint moonlight filtering through the broken windows. It wasn’t a zombie—that much was clear. It stood taller, its limbs impossibly long and thin, its movements unnervingly fluid. Its head tilted unnaturally as it stared at them with glowing, amber eyes.

   “Oh, hell no,” Ivory whispered.

   Atlas’s hands shook as he jammed the knife into the lock, trying to force it open. “Come on, come on…”

   The creature took a slow, deliberate step forward, its eyes never leaving them.

   “Any day now, Atlas!” Ivory hissed, his voice rising in panic.

   With a final shove, the lock gave way. The door swung open, and both boys scrambled inside. Atlas slammed the door shut and jammed a metal shelf against it, his chest heaving.

   Ivory flicked on a small flashlight from his pocket, its weak beam illuminating the cramped storage room. Dusty shelves lined the walls, filled with forgotten supplies and broken equipment.

   “Well, this is cozy,” Ivory muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

   Atlas leaned against the wall, his head in his hands. “What the hell was that thing?”

   “I don’t know,” Ivory admitted, which was rare. He rarely admitted he didn’t know something. “But whatever it is, it’s not friendly.”

   As if to confirm his words, a loud bang echoed through the room. The creature was outside, testing the door.

   Atlas gripped the Glock tightly, his knuckles white. “We can’t stay here.”

   Ivory nodded, then pointed to a small vent near the ceiling. “That might be our way out.”

Atlas groaned. “Why is it always the vents?”

   Ivory smirked faintly, the tension in the room easing just a fraction. “Because nothing says ‘survival’ like crawling through a dusty death tunnel.”

   Atlas grabbed a nearby crate and pushed it under the vent. He climbed up and pulled the vent cover off, glancing down at Ivory. “You first.”

Ivory raised an eyebrow. “What, no ‘ladies first’ joke?”

Atlas hesitated, his cheeks flushing. “No. Just… hurry up.”

   Ivory stepped onto the crate, his face close to Atlas’s again as he climbed into the vent. For a moment, their eyes met, and Atlas felt a strange warmth flood his chest despite the situation. Ivory’s lips twitched into the faintest smile, and he muttered, “You’re blushing.”

   Atlas blinked, his face heating even more. “I am not. Just… keep moving!”

   Ivory chuckled softly, his tone teasing but not unkind. “Whatever you say, hero.”

   As Ivory disappeared into the vent, Atlas followed, the faint sound of the creature banging on the door urging him forward.