It was a quiet night at the gas station. Mike, a 17-year-old boy working the graveyard shift, sat behind the counter, the exhaustion from the long hours pressing on his eyelids. His mind wandered in a haze, barely stirred when a car pulled up outside. A man stepped out—a tall figure, around 6’1”, with a striking presence. He walked into the store, scanning the aisles before grabbing a bag of candy.

Mike stood up, sluggishly moving to the register.

Mike: "Hello, sir. What’s got you out here so late?"

Anton: "Just finished my shift. I’m heading home, but I’m picking up some candy for my kids."

Mike nodded, curiosity piqued. "What’s your name?"

Anton: "Anton Miles. I work at a government facility—Ministry of Agriculture."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "That’s a pretty good job, especially with the benefits."

Anton smiled, paying for the candy, and then left. The door chimes echoed in the stillness as the atmosphere returned to its previous monotony. Mike slumped back into his chair, his attention drifting back to his phone.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, buzzing before dimming. Mike frowned, unsure if it was just the electrical system playing tricks. Then, the noise started. A strange, slow sound—footsteps. They came from the far corner of the store.

Mike’s heart quickened. A metallic scent hung in the air. His eyes widened, scanning the store for any sign of what was causing it. The noise grew louder.

Thud. Thud.

Before Mike could react, the window shattered, sending glass raining across the floor. A figure—a creature—stepped through the broken window. It was monstrous, a hybrid of man and beast, towering and terrifying. Long black wings unfolded from its back, its body covered in glossy black feathers and grey scales. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Mike with unnatural intensity. Sharp teeth glistened in the dim light, and its talons scraped across the floor with a chilling sound.

Mike’s breath caught in his throat. The creature moved with eerie grace, walking on its hind legs, as though it wasn’t bound by the laws of human motion. It paused, sniffing the air, as if sensing Mike’s presence. Panic flooded his chest. His instincts screamed at him to hide.

Without thinking, he bolted into the janitor's closet, his heart pounding like a drum. His hands trembled as he clutched his phone, but his shaking fingers couldn’t seem to dial fast enough.

The creature began to prowl the store. It didn’t notice Mike at first, tearing through shelves and knocking items over in its search. It reached the register, swiping it open with a single brutal motion, sending bills scattering. After grabbing what it could, the creature disappeared as swiftly as it had arrived.

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Mike remained frozen in the closet for what felt like an eternity, struggling to steady his breath. What the hell had that been?

He forced himself to crawl out, his limbs stiff from fear. His hands shook as he dialed 911, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Mike (panting): "Hello? Someone broke into the store. There was this... this thing—wings, feathers, scales, red eyes! It wasn’t human!"

Minutes later, two officers arrived. One, Officer Jon, shot Mike a skeptical look as he stepped through the door.

Officer Jon: "What’s going on, kid?"

Mike (his voice shaky, soaked in sweat): "There was a maniac. He had black wings, feathers, and grey scales. He broke into the store!"

Officer Jon (raising an eyebrow): "You sure about that? Sounds like a guy in some weird costume."

Mike: "No, officer! It wasn’t a costume! It... it wasn’t human. It had red eyes and sharp teeth!"

Officer Jon (sighing): "Kid, it's late. You're probably just seeing things. We’ll take a look around, but I think you’ve had a long night."

Mike wanted to argue, to explain the terror that still gripped him, but he knew it was pointless. The officers exchanged a few more words and left, dismissing his story.

Mike stood there, his heart still racing, the silence pressing in around him. He glanced toward the broken window, where the creature had vanished into the night. He wasn’t sure if anyone would ever believe him. But the memory of those glowing red eyes, and the terror that gripped him when the creature entered, would stay with him forever.

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The next morning, after forcing down a cup of coffee, Mike sat at the kitchen table, still shaken from the events of the night before. His mind replayed the creature’s every movement—its wings, its eyes, the terror that had gripped him as it hunted through the store. He tried to shake it off, convinced it had to have been some twisted nightmare, but deep down, he knew what he’d seen.

As he scrolled through his phone, a new message from his friend popped up, a link to an article. Mike clicked on it, expecting something mundane, but what he saw made his stomach twist.

The headline read: "Man Found Dead Near Gas Station—Mysterious Claw Marks and Severe Injuries."

Mike’s eyes immediately went to the accompanying photo, a chilling wave of nausea washing over him as he stared at the man's lifeless face. His blood ran cold when he realized—it was Anton.

The same man who had bought candy from him only hours before. The image of Anton’s smiling face was replaced by a grotesque scene—deep, jagged claw marks across his body, his face frozen in terror. Mike’s heart skipped a beat. Anton hadn’t just been killed—he’d been torn apart.

Mike’s mind raced. Could it be the creature? The thing that had attacked him? Had it followed Anton?

Fear crept back in, thick and suffocating, pressing down on him like a weight. Mike sat back in his chair, the grim realization sinking in. The nightmare he had experienced was no hallucination or twisted dream. It was real. And now, Anton... was dead.

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Anton Heidan was the father of a family consisting of his wife, Marina Heidan, and their two children: a son, Matthew Heidan, and a daughter, Sophie Heidan. Anton had always seemed like a laid-back, ordinary guy with a government job in the Ministry of Agriculture. On the surface, his life appeared calm, punctuated by friendships and family obligations.

However, beneath the surface, Anton harbored a disturbing secret: he was a serial adulterer. Throughout his youth, he had cultivated a dangerous pattern of seducing women in committed relationships—not out of genuine affection, but for the thrill of disrupting their lives. As a teenager, he took pride in seducing married women or those already in relationships, treating it as nothing more than a game to stave off boredom.