Silence.

The kind that made your soul itch.

Hassan’s eye twitched. “Uh. Yeah, we are.”

The waitress didn’t move.

The other customers slowly turned their heads toward them.

No chewing. No blinking.

Just staring.

Mr. Wachira sighed. “Alright. New plan. We leave very fast.”

Brenda was already standing. “Love that plan. Huge fan.”

They all stood. Casually.

Not too fast. Not too slow. Just… normal.

The waitress followed them with her too-wide eyes.

Then—

The lights went out.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

---

Panic? Immediate.

The darkness wasn’t regular darkness.

It felt thicker.

Like someone had painted it on.

Hassan grabbed Brenda’s wrist. “MOVE.”

Tables scraped. Chairs tipped.

Someone grabbed Jeremiah’s leg.

He kicked. Hard. Something hissed.

Then—

The lights flickered back on.

And the diner was normal.

No staring customers. No creepy waitress.

Even the spaghetti was gone.

Mr. Wachira took a breath. “We’re leaving.”

No one argued.

Because this town? Not normal.

Not even pretending anymore.

---

They spilled into the street.

The air felt wrong again.

But they didn’t care.

They just kept moving.

Until—

A cat ran across their path.

Just a cat.

Regular-sized. Regular-colored.

And yet—

Jeremiah pointed. “That’s the same cat from earlier.”

Brenda squinted. “How do you know?”

“Because it’s wearing a tiny hat.”

Everyone stared.

Sure enough.

The cat was wearing a small, ridiculous hat.

Brenda sighed. “Okay, sure. Why not.”

Hassan nodded. “Yup. Nothing is real. Time is fake.”

The cat stopped walking.

Then stared right at them.

And smiled.

It had human teeth.

Everyone screamed.

The cat winked.

Then trotted away.

Like this was just another Tuesday.

---

They ran.

Didn’t matter where. Just away.

But the town kept looping.

Every street led back to the same diner.

Every alley dumped them right where they started.

Finally, Brenda stopped.

Hands on her knees. Panting.

“Okay. Okay. New plan.”

She straightened.

Looked at the group.

Then at the diner.

Then at the cat, which was sitting on a mailbox, still grinning.

“…We play by the town’s rules.”

Silence.

Hassan frowned. “What?”

Brenda pointed at the cat. “That thing is messing with us.”

The cat giggled.

Everyone shuddered.

She crossed her arms. “Which means we have to stop running and figure this out.”

Mr. Wachira exhaled. “Fine. Where do we start?”

Brenda turned to the cat.

It waved.

Then, in perfect, clear hum

an speech, it said:

“You should probably find the mayor.”

And then it exploded into glitter.

No sound. No fire. Just—poof.

Jeremiah sighed.

“…I hate this town.”