Entering the building, I was immediately struck by how dim it was inside. The air was thick with the musty scent of neglect, and the faint creak of the floor beneath my feet echoed in the quiet space. The further I moved, the more the light from outside dimmed, swallowed by the shadows of the warehouse.

Then I heard it—a soft, muffled weeping coming from up ahead. The sound sent somewhat of a chill down my spine.

I froze, straining my ears to pinpoint the source. The crying was faint but unmistakable, its fragile tone carrying through the stillness like a plea. My instincts screamed at me to proceed cautiously.

Sliding my phone from my pocket, I switched on its flashlight, the small beam cutting through the darkness. The narrow cone of light flickered across rusted metal shelves and scattered debris, painting eerie shadows on the walls, all of this caused me to tighten my grip on the phone.

“Lily?” I called softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The weeping continued, unbroken, and the sound tugged at my nerves. I moved closer, every step slow and deliberate, my senses on high alert.

The crying seemed to be coming from deeper inside. Taking a steadying breath, I pressed forward, hoping I wasn’t too late.

Eventually, I turned a corner in the darkness, my flashlight revealing a small figure slumped against the wall. The faint sound of weeping grew clearer, and my heart sank as the light illuminated the source—a little girl, sitting on the cold, dusty floor with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her small frame trembled with each quiet sob, her face buried in her arms. Her clothes were smudged with dirt, and her hair hung in disheveled strands over her shoulders.

“Lily?” I asked softly, not wanting to startle her.

The girl flinched at the sound of my voice, her head jerking up to reveal tear-streaked cheeks and wide, fearful eyes. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just stared at me like a frightened animal cornered in the dark.

“It’s okay,” I said gently, lowering myself to one knee to appear less intimidating. “Your mom sent me to find you. She’s really worried about you.”

Her lip quivered, and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “I… I got lost,” she whimpered. “I was trying to... but they...” Her voice broke off, and she clutched her knees tighter.

I glanced over my shoulder, my nerves on edge. Whoever “they” were, I had a bad feeling I’d find out soon enough.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Come on, let’s get ya out of here,” I said, extending a hand toward her. “You’re safe now.”

As I helped her to her feet, she clung to my hand with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. I gave her a reassuring smile, trying to ease the tension I felt creeping up my spine.

“What were you doing here?” I asked gently.

“I-I was following a doggy.”

“So, you were following a doggy, huh?” I asked gently as we began retracing my steps. Her small hand gripped mine tightly, her tiny footsteps matching my own as we made our way toward the warehouse exit.

“Yeah…” she sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “It was all alone, and it looked like it needed help... So I wanted to help it.” Her voice was small but determined, a child’s innocent reasoning wrapped in a world that had suddenly become much too big and frightening.

I smiled softly, trying to keep the situation light despite the growing unease in my gut. “I’m sure you would’ve helped that doggy, but you should always stay close to your mom, okay?”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes still wide with fear but starting to look a little calmer now that I was with her. “Okay~!” she said with a little nod, her voice almost singing as if she had made a promise to herself.

It was faint but I began to hear a growling coming from ahead. I flicked on my phone’s flashlight and aimed it toward the source of the sound. The beam of light cut through the darkness, illuminating a creature that could only be described as otherworldly.

Standing before us was a quadrupedal, translucent, canine-like entity. Its form shimmered unnaturally, pulsating with writhing blue veins that glowed faintly like liquid lightning beneath its semi-transparent surface. Its eyes were pits of pure darkness, an unsettling void that seemed to pierce through me as it stared, unblinking.

Instinctively, I stepped in front of the girl, pulling her behind me. “Stay close,” I tried to whisper, but the sound didn’t come out. My lips moved, but there was no noise—not even the faintest breath. A chilling realization dawned on me: the warehouse was deathly silent, as though every sound had been consumed.

My heart raced as my mind struggled to piece together what I was facing. Was this a roaming monster? Some rogue experiment? Whatever it was, it felt alien and predatory. The creature shifted, taking a slow, deliberate step backward, its form vanishing from the beam of the flashlight as it retreated into the shadows. A deep, guttural growl reverberated through the space—an impossibility in the absence of sound—and the vibrations sent a jolt through my chest like a distant thunderclap.

I tightened my grip on the flashlight, frantically scanning the area. The light played over discarded crates, broken machinery, and debris scattered haphazardly across the warehouse floor. The creature was nowhere in sight.

I glanced down at the girl, her wide eyes brimming with fear. She clung tightly to my hand, trembling but silent.

I took a deep breath, my free hand gripping the flashlight tighter. "We’re going to move, but slowly," I mouthed. My legs felt like lead as I turned toward the nearest exit, guiding her along while keeping the beam of light sweeping the shadows in wide arcs. Every step felt like a gamble, every creak of the floor like a trigger for whatever this thing was.

Then, in the corner of my vision, the light caught a flicker of movement—the veins, glowing faintly, betrayed its position. My breath hitched. It was circling us.