My eyes widen, and I take three steps back as I inhale the worst smell I''ve ever encountered in my life. "What the fuck is this?"


    That''s when I notice the trail of blood on the asphalt—irregular and thick. My eyes follow it until they lock onto a small moving silhouette further ahead. A rat. Small, but not enough to go unnoticed. Its fur is soaked in red, and it seems to be dragging something in its mouth as it moves forward before disappearing into a storm drain.


    A shiver runs down my spine. I don''t know what''s more disturbing—the state of the cat or the fact that a rat apparently did this.


    ***


    [Ellie Carter''s Point of View]


    If I had to sum up my life in one word, it would be chaos. I grew up surrounded by screams, slamming doors, and flying objects. My parents fought all the time—the kind of fight that doesn''t stay just in words—and I learned early on that relationships were made of shards and broken promises.


    I guess I must have some heavy trauma because I never managed to make friends. It was hard to trust people when the only example of a relationship I knew was destructive and unstable. But then I met Jonathan.


    You know the kind of person who goes unnoticed at first glance? Black hair and eyes, a not-so-athletic build, average height. He doesn''t have anything that immediately stands out—but once you get to know him, he becomes the center of attention.


    I don''t remember exactly how it happened, but at some point, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his group of friends. I quickly became part of the group, but I was never really close to the others. Even after years, the only person I truly care about is him.


    Some might say my fixation on Jon is strange. That''s why I learned to hide my... obsession—no, I mean, my connection with him.


    Our relationship has always been a cycle. At first, we were just friends. Then, friends who looked at each other for too long. And then, suddenly, we became something more. There was no big event, no cinematic moment—it just happened. A stolen kiss after a silly conversation, a look that lasted longer than normal. Before I knew it, we were dating.


    But I didn''t know how to maintain a relationship.


    I didn''t know how to handle affection without suspicion, how to accept an "I love you" without expecting it to be followed by a scream. Over time, I started pushing him away. Small fights, lame excuses, uncomfortable silences. Then, we broke up.


    A few months later, we got back together.


    The cycle repeated. Again. And again.


    And now, we''re in a phase where we''re nothing more than friends. But sometimes, when I see him laughing with another girl, I feel something rise in my throat. A hot, suffocating wave.


    They look at him as if they have the right. As if he''s available.


    And he smiles back.


    I pretend I don''t care. I pretend I don''t clench my fists under the table. I pretend I don''t feel the urge to grab his arm and pull him away. Because that would be crazy, right?


    I''m not crazy.


    But some days, I wonder... What if he falls in love with someone else? If he decides that some random girl is worth more than everything we have?


    No. That can''t happen.


    I''m the only one who understands him. The only one who really knows Jonathan... the real Jonathan.


    "Haa..." I sigh, wondering why I''m thinking about this now. At the checkout, I pay for the batteries and put them in a plastic bag.


    I leave the store and walk up to Jon, who was leaning against his bike with a somber look. "What''s with that face?"


    He blinks a few times before finally looking at me. "I think I just saw a rat coming out of a dead cat."


    I frown. "... What?"


    He nods his head toward a corner of the parking lot. "Over there, behind the truck. There''s a cat with its belly open, and I think a rat did it."


    I let out a sigh and shake my head. "Jon, sometimes you need more sleep. Or to stop watching those disgusting videos on the internet."


    "I''m serious." He speaks in a tone that makes me raise an eyebrow.


    Jon rarely speaks seriously with me, which means he''s not joking. "Okay, I''ll go check it out." I grip the plastic bag more firmly and walk toward the truck, feeling Jon right behind me.


    As we turn the corner around the vehicle, the first thing I notice is the smell. A metallic, nauseating odor lingers in the air, strong enough to make my stomach churn. My eyes scan the asphalt, and then I see—Nothing.


    Just a pool of thick, dark blood. But the cat? Gone.


    My shoulders tense. "It was here?"


    "Yes…" Jon responds, shocked, staring at the blood on the ground. "It was right here…"


    I look around, searching for any sign of movement, anything that indicates the cat was dragged away, but the only thing I see is a thick trail, as if something had slithered out of it.


    A chill runs down my spine.


    This doesn''t make sense.


    "Ellie." Jon places a hand on my arm and pulls me back toward the bikes. "Let''s go home."


    ***


    [Jonathan Bennet''s Point of View]


    After biking back to my house, Ellie went to drop off the batteries at her place, two blocks ahead. I, on the other hand, went straight up to my room and turned on my computer.


    I sit in my chair and rest my head on my hand, reflecting on what happened at the store. I''m not exactly a conspiracy theorist, but I can''t deny that what I saw was supernatural and completely terrifying. I mean, where did the cat go? I''m sure that wound was fatal.


    As soon as the computer boots up, I debate for a few seconds on what to search for until I remember the video of the woman my dad was watching earlier.


    "Hmm... let''s start with that." I open the browser and type: [Bizarre cases of extreme violence]


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The first results were the usual: gang fights, psychopath attacks, crimes. But then, I started noticing patterns.


    "Homeless man attacks a man by biting and continues even after being shot in Brazil."


    "Zombie cow in the Congo? Understand the case that shocked the country."


    "Monkeys kill five tourists in India."


    ''What kind of madness is this?'' I ask myself, startled, and scroll down the page, finding news from various parts of the world.


    London: A man was run over but kept moving. When paramedics tried to assist, they were attacked.


    Tokyo: A security camera captured a torn-up dog walking in the middle of the street.


    Mexico City: A woman was seen chewing her own fingers on a crowded subway, showing no sign of pain.


    Russia: Dog kills and eats a family while they slept.


    My hands were sweating as I kept scrolling through the news. With each new report, my heartbeat quickened.


    Something was wrong. Very wrong. But if there were already so many cases… how the hell had I not heard about this before? I swallowed dry and clicked on the homeless man''s news report.


    ERROR 404 – PAGE NOT FOUND


    "What the fuck…?" I muttered, clicking refresh.


    Nothing.


    I go back to the previous page and see that the news had disappeared. I scroll up and click on the one about the dog.


    ERROR 404.


    I try the article about the tourists killed in India.


    ERROR 404.


    By this point, I was already holding my breath without realizing it. How could the news be disappearing as I read it? If it were just one, I might have assumed the page was under maintenance, but several? I can only presume that someone didn''t want that to be seen.


    And now, I had no doubt that something much bigger was happening.


    ***


    [Point of View ???]


    The patrol car slid down the narrow street, the tires lightly screeching against the wet asphalt. Inside, officers Ramirez and Collins exchanged a silent glance before stepping out. The call had come from a neighbor: screams, sounds of struggle, maybe domestic violence. Nothing unusual for that part of town.


    "Let''s take it slow," Ramirez said, adjusting his gun holster. "You never know what to expect from these people."


    Collins nodded, his hand already hovering near his holster. They climbed the creaking porch steps and knocked on the door.


    "Police! Anyone home?" Collins called out, waiting for a response.


    But no one answered. Only the heavy silence of the place. Ramirez tried the doorknob, and the door gave way, slowly creaking open.


    "Unlocked door. Never a good sign," he muttered, exchanging a worried look with his partner.


    Both entered the house with steady hands on their holsters, ready to draw their weapons at any moment. The interior was dark, with only the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains.


    "Anyone home? Police!" Ramirez called out again, his voice echoing through the rooms.


    They moved down the hallway, hearing only the sound of their own footsteps. The tension in the air was palpable. Every door they passed was slightly ajar, but nothing seemed out of place. Until they reached the kitchen.


    The door was half-open, and a faint, almost imperceptible sound came from within. A wet noise, like chewing. Ramirez signaled to Collins, and they positioned themselves on either side of the door. With a swift motion, Ramirez pushed it open, and both stepped in with their weapons raised.


    What they saw made them freeze.


    Standing by the table, a man was hunched over the body of a woman, tearing chunks from her stomach with his teeth before swallowing. His skin was pale, almost cadaveric, with red veins snaking across his body, pulsating as if alive.


    "Jesus Christ..." Collins whispered, his voice trembling.


    The man stopped chewing and slowly turned his head back, staring at the officers with black eyes and crimson irises, his mouth smeared with blood. He grinned, revealing his filthy teeth.


    "Hands up!" Ramirez ordered, but the monster only tilted its head, as if analyzing them.


    Then, it moved.


    In the blink of an eye, the creature lunged at Ramirez with inhuman speed. The officer barely had time to fire before he was thrown against the wall with brutal force. His body crashed into a bar, sending bottles and utensils clattering to the floor.


    Collins opened fire. The bullets struck the creature''s chest, piercing its pale flesh. But instead of falling, the monster merely staggered back, a guttural growl escaping its throat. The wounds healed before Collins'' eyes, the veins pulsating as they sealed shut in seconds.


    "What the fuck?!" he shouted, reloading.


    The monster leaped. Its hands wrapped around Collins'' neck, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Fingers dug into the officer''s flesh, and he struggled to pull the trigger again. A final shot echoed through the kitchen before the creature crushed his trachea with a dry snap.


    On the floor, Ramirez raised his weapon with a trembling hand and fired directly at the creature''s head. The bullet tore through its eye, exiting the skull from the other side. The thing''s head snapped back from the impact, but almost instantly, it returned to its original position.


    Then, it smiled.


    Before Ramirez could react, the creature lunged forward, lifting its foot and stomping his skull against the floor. The impact was brutal. Blood, bone, and brain matter splattered in all directions, painting the ground with the remains of the officer.