David yanked Claire hard, snapping her out of her frozen state. She stumbled but found her footing, her legs finally obeying the panic screaming in her head. The city street was just beyond the alley’s mouth—bright, noisy, safe. But it felt impossibly far away.
Behind them, the figure didn’t move at first. It simply watched, like it was letting them go. Like it knew something they didn’t.
Then it took a step.
The sharp click of its boot against the pavement sent a fresh wave of fear through Claire’s spine. She and David ran. Hard. She could hear their footsteps pounding against the ground, her own breath ragged, the sound of the city growing closer with every desperate stride.
“Don’t look back!” David hissed. But of course, she did.
The figure was walking. Not running. Just a slow, deliberate stride. And yet—somehow—it was closing the distance between them.
They burst out of the alley and onto the main street, nearly colliding with a man dragging a suitcase. He cursed at them, but Claire barely heard him. They pushed forward, weaving through the crowd, the neon lights of the city painting streaks of color in their vision.
“We have to get somewhere—inside,” Claire gasped. “Somewhere with—”
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David spotted a 24-hour diner on the corner. Without hesitation, he grabbed Claire’s wrist and pulled her inside. The bell above the door jingled, the warmth of the place hitting them like a wall. The smell of burnt coffee and grease should have been comforting. It wasn’t.
The waitress, a woman in her forties with tired eyes, barely glanced up from her magazine. “Anywhere you like,” she muttered.
Claire and David collapsed into a booth near the back, both panting, their hands shaking.
“Okay,” David said, swallowing hard. “What the hell was that?”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t know. I—I felt it before I even saw it. Like something wasn’t right. Like we were being watched.”
David ran a hand through his hair, still catching his breath. “And did you hear it? That voice? It wasn’t normal, Claire. It was like—” He stopped himself, as if saying it out loud would make it real.
“Like it wasn’t human,” Claire finished for him.
The diner door opened.
Claire’s stomach dropped.
A man walked in—just a regular guy in a hoodie, probably a late-night worker grabbing a meal. But her mind was already spiraling.
She turned to the window. The alley they had just fled from was visible from here, a dark, empty void between the buildings.
Empty.
The figure was gone.
But somehow, she knew.
It wasn’t over.
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