"...And on today's news, the disappearance of over 70 children in West Germany. Local authorities say that the four school buses containing the children were en route to the city of Stuttgart for a field trip but never arrived at their designated time. Currently, one of the buses has been found, though the occupants on board have not..."

  Markus furrowed his brows as he turned the page of his book. Normally he wouldn't be one to listen to the radio when he had more important things to do yet these past few weeks had been...odd. Other bizarre stories had been circulating in the news: reports of strange animal sightings in Africa, bizarre weather patterns forming above Scandinavia, and entire groups of people claiming they saw something huge in the waters around Bermuda. He had mostly brushed it off as media exaggeration, the kind of hysteria that built itself up during slow news cycles. Yet in the back of his mind, a sort of uneasiness had begun to form. He couldn't explain why, just that something felt wrong which he why he brought his radio with him to listen to the news. It didn't help that throughout the office, he could hear the crackling of other radios as others listened to the news.

  He shook his head, refocusing on his book. His life was dull enough without entertaining ghost stories.

  A knock at the door made him glance up. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

  The woman standing in the doorway made him pause. His first thought was that she was stunning—tall, graceful, and with an otherworldly air about her. But his second thought was how utterly strange her outfit was. She was wearing a long, flowing black robe speckled with tiny white dots, resembling the night sky itself. It shimmered subtly under the dim office lights, as though it contained movement within its fabric.

  Markus straightened in his chair. "Uh, hi. Can I help you?"

  She stepped forward without a word, her gaze intense. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Go ahead, have a seat."

  The woman silently complied, sitting down with an elegance that felt out of place in his dingy office. Markus waited for her to say something, but she remained quiet, simply watching him. The silence stretched.

  "Alright," he said slowly. "So, what can I help you with? Are you here about an insurance claim?"

  No response.

  Markus bit the inside of his cheek, shifting slightly. "Okay... how about a name? That’s usually a good place to start."

  Finally, she spoke. "Asena."

  Her voice was smooth but carried an odd weight to it, as though she were not used to speaking the word aloud. Markus nodded, trying to place the name. It sounded foreign—maybe Eastern European? Romanian, if he had to guess. But that was just speculation.

  "Nice to meet you, Asena," he said, giving her another chance to explain why she was there. When she didn’t respond, he sighed. "Look, if you don’t tell me what you need, I can’t help you."

  Still, nothing. Instead, she glanced down at his desk, her eyes scanning over the scattered papers before landing on his book. Without asking, she reached out and picked it up. Markus opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself, watching as she flipped through the pages with practiced ease.

  she flipped through the pages slowly and Markus soon found himself watching her, confused. What is she doing? Markus thought before she abruptly spoke again.

  "I like you," she finally said.

  Markus blinked. "Uh... what?"

  She closed the book gently and set it back on his desk, then stood up. Markus frowned, feeling like the conversation had ended before it had even begun.

  "Hold on," he said. "What do you mean by that?"

  Asena didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to leave, but before stepping out the door, she glanced back at him. Her eyes were deep blue, almost unnatural in their vibrance—like the ocean at its darkest depths.

  "You should go home," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "And avoid standing near the red truck in front of the building."

  Then she was gone, vanishing around the corner before Markus could react. He stood abruptly, stepping out of his office and looking both ways down the hall. But there was no sign of her.

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  A coworker passed by, giving him a confused look. Markus stopped him. "Hey, did you see that woman? The one that just left my office?"

  The man frowned. "What woman?"

  Markus hesitated. "The one in the black robe? You had to have seen her. She just walked out."

  The coworker shook his head. "Haven’t seen anyone. You sure you’re feeling okay?"

  Markus muttered a dismissal and stepped back into his office, shutting the door behind him. He exhaled sharply, a strange weight settling in his gut. That had been weird—really weird. Something about the entire encounter didn’t sit right with him.

  He wasn’t about to ignore it.

  Grabbing his things, he decided to take Asena’s advice. Maybe it was paranoia, but every instinct told him to leave. He walked briskly down the hall and toward the elevator, his mind still processing what had just happened. As he approached, he saw Fredrick berating some poor employee in the lobby. Markus didn’t know what the guy had done to earn Fredrick’s ire, but judging by Fredrick’s expression, it was something petty.

  Then Fredrick spotted him.

  "Where the hell do you think you’re going?" he snapped, marching over. "Your shift isn’t over."

  Markus didn’t respond. He pressed the elevator button, waiting as the light flickered.

  Fredrick sneered. "If you walk out of here right now, I’ll report you."

  The elevator doors slid open with a ding. Markus stepped inside, meeting Fredrick’s furious glare with a blank stare of his own. Then, as the doors began to close, he finally spoke.

  "Fuck off."

  The last thing he saw before the doors sealed shut was Fredrick’s shocked face, frozen in disbelief.

  The ride down was quiet, save for the hum of the elevator. But the moment Markus stepped out into the lobby, he knew something was wrong.

  Outside, people were gathered in the streets, staring upward. A hushed murmur ran through the crowd, a mixture of confusion and fear. Markus weaved through the lobby and stepped outside, following their gazes.

  And then he saw it.

  The sun looked like it was undergoing an eclipse, its golden light swallowed by an unnatural darkness. But in front of the blackened sun, something hung in the sky. A large, glowing blue square, almost translucent, floated high above the city. It was massive, suspended as though it had always been there, yet undeniably alien.

  Markus squinted. There was writing on it—faint, unreadable at first—but just as he was about to focus, a voice rang out. It wasn’t from any speaker, nor from any one direction. It was everywhere, resonating deep in his bones.

  The sound of glass shattering tore through the air, sharp and deafening. It wasn’t just one window or a stray bottle—it was everywhere, cascading like a wave of destruction. Storefronts, office buildings, car windows—glass fractured and rained down onto the streets as people screamed and ducked for cover.

  Markus instinctively shielded his face as shards rained down around him, his heart hammering in his chest. A deafening car alarm blared from somewhere nearby, joined by dozens of others. The panicked shouts of pedestrians filled the streets as they scrambled to flee, their fear turning into outright hysteria.

  Then, through the chaos, came a new sound.

  A deep, guttural howl—low, resonant, and inhuman. It came from somewhere further down the street, past the wreckage of shattered windows and overturned trash cans. Markus turned, barely able to see through the dust and debris, but what he did see made his breath catch in his throat.

  A shape—tall, hulking, and not human—moved through the thick haze, its form flickering like a mirage. It was big, easily seven feet tall, its silhouette vaguely humanoid but wrong, its limbs too long, its movements too fluid, too unnatural. Its glowing, slitted eyes cut through the dust, locking onto the scattered, panicked people around it.

  And then it moved.

  Fast. Too fast.

  Markus barely registered the moment it lunged. One second it was standing still, the next it was on someone. A scream—high-pitched and bloodcurdling—was cut short as the person was dragged away into the smoke. The sound of tearing fabric, of something crunching, echoed through the streets.

  Markus took a step back, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be—

  Another howl. Closer this time.

  Then another, from the opposite direction.

  More figures, dozens of them, emerged through the smoke, their glowing eyes piercing through the darkened cityscape. Markus didn’t hesitate—he ran. His instincts screamed at him to move, to get the hell away from whatever those things were. He sprinted down the street, his breath ragged, his heart slamming against his ribs.

  As he dashed past a parked red truck, a loud crash exploded to his right. Something—or someone—had just plummeted from above, slamming into the roof of the vehicle with a sickening crunch. The impact caved in the metal, sending shards of glass and twisted steel outward. Markus barely managed to dodge as debris scattered across the pavement.

  He risked a glance—Fredrick.

  His body was twisted at an unnatural angle, blood pooling beneath him, his expensive watch still gleaming under the dim streetlights. His mouth hung open, eyes wide, frozen in a state of terror.

  Markus didn’t stop.

  There was no time to process it, no time for shock or grief—he just kept running, sprinting down the empty streets. The city was unraveling, chaos spilling out in every direction. People screamed as car horns blared, and in the distance, the eerie howls of the creatures continued.

  His apartment. He just needed to get to his apartment.

  Cutting through side streets, Markus pushed his legs harder, ignoring the burning in his chest. He didn’t get far.

  The moment he darted into an alleyway, something landed on him from above.

  He hit the ground hard, his back slamming into the cold pavement. Before he could react, pain erupted across his chest—claws. Sharp, slicing through fabric, tearing into his skin.

  Snarling, he threw his attacker off him, adrenaline surging through his veins. The thing tumbled a few feet away, landing on all fours.

  Markus scrambled back, panting, his hands shaking as he got his first real look at it.

  A small, fox-like creature—no more than two feet tall. Its fur was a deep rust color, its ears pointed, and its golden eyes filled with raw aggression. It wore a crude metal chest piece, faded leather straps binding it together. On its belt, two wicked-looking daggers gleamed under the alley’s dim light.

  Its claws dripped with fresh blood. His blood.

  The creature hissed, its hackles raising, before launching itself at him again.

  Markus reacted on instinct, grabbing the nearest object he could find—a dented metal trash can. He swung it hard, slamming the creature in mid-air. The impact sent it sprawling onto the pavement, rolling over before it began to struggle to get back up.

  Markus didn’t give it the chance to recover.

  Gritting his teeth, he made his way over and stomped down on it—once, twice, over and over and over again—until it stopped moving.

  His breath came in ragged gasps. Blood—both his and the creature’s—stained his clothes, dripping onto the concrete beneath him.

  For a long moment, all he could hear was his frantic heartbeat screaming in his ears.

  The world was falling apart, and Markus had no idea what the hell was happening.

  It was then that the screen appeared.