Another bell, another sigh, another evening shift. The copper bell above the door of McNeily Pawn chimed its familiar tone as Lana stepped inside, the sound mingling with her weary sigh. Another evening shift stretched before her, a canvas of monotony waiting to be painted. The musty scent of aged objects and polished metal enveloped her as she placed her worn backpack on the scratched glass counter as she had many nights prior.

Lana's eyes, a deep brown that seemed to absorb the dim light of the shop, scanned the cluttered space. Mismatched shelves sagged under the weight of countless curiosities, each item whispering stories of their past. The air hazy and heavy with dust motes dancing in the fading sunlight that filtered through the grimy windows offering a tame view of the streets outside.

Her footsteps echoed softly on the creaky wooden floor as she made her way to the back room to check on Mr. McNeily. The absence of the rhythmic ticking that usually accompanied his presence told her he wasn't at his workbench before she even reached the door. Pushing it open, she was greeted by the sight of bookshelves overflowing with leather bound tomes and trinkets too valuable or too peculiar for public display. These were the treasures reserved for discerning collectors, available by Mr. McNeily's invitation only.

At the far end of the small room, another faded door led to the basement where Mr. McNeily made his home. It was closed and confirmed his absence. When open, it signaled he was either working or out about town one one errand or another. Normally he trusted Lana to the mundane chores like shopping for toiletries and cleaning supplies. Bank visits and health care errands he kept to himself.

Lana nodded silently, her check complete, and returned to the front counter to begin her shift.

She ran through her mental checklist with practiced efficiency. Lights? On, casting their sickly yellow glow over the shop's eclectic inventory. Door unlocked? Obviously, again, given her entry. Money in the till? A quick check confirmed it. Bathrooms clean? In order, if not exactly sparkling. Garbage? Empty, for now.

With the essentials taken care of and little else to occupy her, Lana reached for her backpack. The zipper's rasp seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet shop as she extracted a plastic bag. Peeking inside, she removed one of two identical containers, placing it on the counter alongside a plastic wrapped fork. The scent of garlic and spices wafted up, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

Plastic bag in hand, Lana made her way to the back door. The rusted hinges protested as she pushed it open, stepping into the alley behind the shop. The waning sun cast long shadows across the cracked asphalt, painting the world in shades of amber and gray. The air behind the shop was cooler, carrying the acrid tang of urban decay.

Unlike the previous evening, the dumpster stood silent and undisturbed. Instead, Lana's gaze fell upon a hunched figure sitting beside it. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she approached, recognizing the man from yesterday's encounter. Exactly what she had hoped.

"I brought you some food," she said softly, watching as he acknowledged her words with a slight tilt of his head. His brown eyes, set deep in a soft and sculpted face, reflected a mixture of wariness and gratitude. "I hope that's okay. You were looking for food yesterday, weren't you?"

The man's silence stretched a moment too long, his gaze never quite meeting hers. Lana placed the bag a few feet from his feet, suddenly feeling awkward. "It'll be cold soon," she offered lamely, forcing a smile before turning back towards the door. It'll be cold soon? What a dumb thing to say, she thinks to herself.

"Thank you," his gruff voice called out, barely above a whisper.

Lana paused, offering another smile over her shoulder before disappearing back into the pawnshop. The door closed behind her with a dull thud, sealing her once more in the shop's musty embrace.

Back at the counter, Lana settled onto her worn stool and opened her own container. The aroma of Chicken Alfredo, spiced with habanero peppers and lemon sauce, filled the air. It was a specialty from Bistro Because, widely considered the best pasta on the east side of the city. As she took a bite, savoring the intense interplay of creamy sauce and fiery spice, Lana felt justified with her assessment of that claim. Her love of bold flavors was a trait passed down from her father to both his daughters, a culinary layer that brought a touch of warmth to even the coldest of meals.

Casually sampling the dinner before her, Lana turned her attention to her laptop screen. The glow illuminated her face as she scrolled through the comments on her latest post. Lana Love, the online persona she had cultivated since junior high, had grown into a local trend with a substantial following over the years. Maintaining weekly posts and daily engagement with her audience had become as much a part of her routine as her shifts at the pawnshop.

A like and a follow, an emoji response. Lana did her best to appear active online while she placed another fork full of pasta into her mouth.

Drang. The familiar tone of the bell above the door shattered her concentration. Lana's eyes snapped up from the screen, struggling a moment from the blur of the laptop screen to focus on the figure that now stood in the entrance. He was tall and imposing, his dark hair disheveled and his clothes were torn and dirty. But it was his eyes that captured Lana's attention the most, piercing green orbs that seemed to bore into her very soul.

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"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice slipping into its rehearsed customer service cadence as she stood, setting the fork into the pasta container beside her. "Anything in particular you're looking for?" The silence that followed her questions was heavy and oppressive, emanating from the man at the door.

Confusion and unease began to creep over Lana as the man remained motionless, his gaze unwavering. Then, with a deliberate slowness that sent chills down her spine, he raised his arm, elbow bent.

The skin at his elbow began to bubble and writhe, as if something living squirmed beneath the surface. With a sickening tear and splurt, the flesh split, making way for a bristling white bone that erupted from his arm. Lana watched in horror, logic and reason escaping her, as the man grasped the seven inch growth in his opposite hand and wrenched it free from his body with less than a grunt of difficulty.

Before Lana could completely process what she was seeing, the man arched his arm back and forward again with shocking speed. The bone spur hurled through the air directly at her. It whistled past her shaking head by mere inches, embedding itself in the wall behind her with a solid thunk.

The shock that had frozen Lana legs in place quickly dissipated in an instant. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she darted around the glass display counter and through the cluttered aisles of the shop. Escape was her only thought on her mind, and with the man blocking the front entrance, she knew her only option was the back alley. Behind her, she could hear the crash of shelves being overturned, the tinkling of shattered glass as the man gave chase, tossing aside the shop's inventory with terrifying ease.

Lana burst through the door to the alley, the cool dusk air hitting her flushed face like a slap. Her mind raced, weighing her options. The end of the alley was too far to run. It would take her at least twenty seconds to reach it, and the man would surely exit and see which way she turned. Hiding seemed her best bet; if she could conceal herself quickly enough, he might assume she had gotten away.

With decisions made, Lana rushed to the dumpsters, wedging herself behind them as best she could. She struggled to control her breathing, each gasp amplifying the thunderous sound of her heart beat in her ears. In and hold. Out and hold. Again. She told herself, trying every attempt to control her shaking body and breath.

The back door crashed open, and Lana heard the man's heavy footsteps on the asphalt. She could almost feel the fury radiating off him as he paced the alley, overturning abandoned shopping carts and crates in his mechanical search. As his steps drew nearer to her hiding spot, Lana's heart seemed to stop, her lungs refusing to draw breath, the sound dissipating from her ears. The certainty of her impending doom pressed down on her like a physical weight. Is this the end? She thought. She feared.

Suddenly, a heavy thud above her made her jump. She looked up to see the man from earlier, the one she had given food to, the mysterious stranger she couldn't seem to forget, dropping onto the top of the dumpster. Where had he come from? He wasn't in the alley a moment ago and she hadn't even seen him approach.

In a blur of motion, the man from the alley squatted onto the top of the dumpster and spun, lashing out with a well aimed kick that somehow sent the bone wielding monster crashing to the asphalt of the alley. Unable to contain her curiosity despite her fear, Lana found herself peering out, further and further, from behind the dumpster for a better view.

The bone man climbed off the ground and back to his feet, his green eyes now fixed on this new threat. They exchanged words too brief and too low for Lana to hear, their body language tense and ready. Suddenly, without warning or warm up, the man from the alley launched off the dumpster, transitioning into a flurry of punches, spins and slaps. Each blow making contact with the forearm of the bone man, expertly deflected. When Lana gathered the courage to look closer, she saw the bone man had grown thin layers of bone across his forearm, shielding his arm from all the force of his attackers' assault.

The fight moved with a speed and grace that seemed almost choreographed. The bone man caught one of the man from the alley's fists mid strike, and planted a boot in his stomach. The man flew backward, hitting the ground with a sickening thud that echoed off the brick walls.

Before the alley man could recover, the bone man's arm contorted once more. Another long, sharp protrusion grew from his elbow, which he snapped off with practiced ease. In two swift motions, he closed the distance and drove the makeshift weapon into the alley man's leg, through the muscle and into the pavement below, pinning him to the ground.

A scream echoed through the alley, the pinned man twisting his body to toss a punch, trying to make his assailant step away. It failed. The bone man ducked and grunted as he quickly grew another bone, breaking it off and slamming it into the alley man's other leg, pinning the second leg down like a wall tack through paper. Was it over? Lana was paralyzed. With no one to oppose the bone man, she would be next.

Agonized screams tore through the night, sending shivers down Lana's spine. As the bone man prepared to strike again, bending his arm to grow another protrusion, Lana's sight went white. She saw a blinding white light erupt from the man from the alley, so intense that Lana had to shield her eyes.

When the spots cleared from her vision, Lana saw the bone man picking himself up from the pavement nearly fifteen feet away. His eyes, once filled with murderous intent, now showed only confusion and panic. Without a backward glance, he fled into the night, leaving Lana alone with her unlikely savior.

Cautiously, Lan a emerged from her hiding place, crawling slowly and shaking. The alley man's eyes found hers, a mix of pain and something unreadable in their depths. As she approached, his eyelids fluttered closed, consciousness slipping away.

Lana sat there, next to the man, her mind reeling from the impossible events she had just witnessed. The night air felt electric, charged with the residual energy of the fight, adrenaline spiking. In the distance, sirens wailed and horns honked, reminding her of the normalcy she once had. The world as she knew it had irrevocably changed, and Lana realized that her ordinary life at McNeily Pawn was about to become anything but boring.

The night stretched before her, full of mystery and danger. And Lana, her heart still racing from the evening's events, found herself strangely exhilarated by the unknown path that lay ahead.