No one spoke for a while.

Because, really, what was there to say?

The cat had talked.

Then exploded.

Into glitter.

And now, instead of screaming into the void (which felt like a reasonable response), they had to go find a mayor.

Brenda sighed. “So, are we really listening to the creepy, human-toothed cat?”

Hassan shrugged. “It’s either that or keep running in circles until we die of stress.”

Mr. Wachira adjusted his glasses. “Or starvation.”

Jeremiah scoffed. “Bold of you to assume we’ll even get that far. This town probably has time loops, reality warps, and—” He gestured wildly. “—spaghetti-milkshakes! I bet if we blink wrong, we’ll all just turn into pigeons.”

Everyone stared.

Brenda frowned. “Are you… okay?”

“No, Brenda. I am not okay.”

---

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Despite every red flag their survival instincts were throwing at them, they started walking again.

The town felt worse now.

Like it knew they were onto something.

Every step made the air feel heavier.

Every corner had shadows that didn’t match their light source.

Some buildings seemed closer than before. Others felt too far away.

And the worst part?

The people.

Because now, there were people.

But something about them was just… off.

They weren’t walking.

They weren’t talking.

They just stood.

On porches. By windows. In the middle of the street.

Facing the group.

Not blinking. Not moving.

Just watching.

Brenda whispered, “I am extremely uncomfortable.”

“Cool,” Hassan muttered. “We agree on something for once.”

“Keep moving,” Mr. Wachira said under his breath.

Nobody argued.

Because whatever the hell was happening, they were not about to stop and ask.

---

The mayor’s office was impossible to miss.

Not because it stood out.

But because it had a huge neon sign that read:

“MAYOR: ALWAYS IN. NEVER OUT.”

“…That’s ominous,” Jeremiah muttered.

Brenda squinted. “The door is slightly open.”

“So we knock, or…?” Hassan asked.

Mr. Wachira stepped forward and knocked. “Mayor?”

Silence.

Then—

“COME IN.”

The voice was wrong.

Not deep, not high—just… empty.

Hassan looked at Brenda. “Cool. This is how we die.”

But Mr. Wachira was already stepping inside.

The rest reluctantly followed.

---

The office was dusty.

Shelves full of ancient-looking books.

A single desk.

And a chair that was facing away from them.

Brenda gulped. “So… Mayor?”

The chair creaked as it slowly turned.

And there he was.

The Mayor.

A man in a neatly pressed suit.

No wrinkles. No dust. Too clean.

His face?

Completely normal.

Which somehow made him even more terrifying.

He smiled. “Welcome.”

Nobody spoke.

Because something about his voice made their skin crawl.

Brenda cleared her throat. “Uh. Our bus broke down. We need help.”

The mayor just kept smiling.

Like he already knew that.

Hassan shuffled. “So. Uh. Do you have a phone? A radio? A carrier pigeon?”

Still smiling.

The mayor folded his hands.

And said:

“I don’t think you understand. You’re not lost.”

Brenda frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You were found.”

Silence.

Cold, suffocating, mind-numbing silence.

Then—

A loud BANG.

The office door had slammed shut.

Jeremiah cursed. “Oh, hell no.”

Brenda grabbed the doorknob. Locked.

The Mayor kept smiling. “Now then. Shall we begin?”