Ethan’s fingers dug into the windowsill as he crouched, his pulse roaring in his ears. The metallic clinking had vanished, replaced by a silence so thick it pressed against his lungs. He held his breath, every muscle taut.

Seconds bled into minutes.

Curiosity clawed at him. He inched upward, peering over the ledge. The street was empty—no figure, no movement. Only the chain remained, coiled on the pavement like a serpent, its jagged links catching the sun’s glare.

Was it a warning? A lure?

He shoved back the fear clouding his mind. Answers wouldn’t find him cowering indoors. Snatching his backpack, he stuffed it with a flashlight, a half-empty water bottle, and a granola bar before stepping outside.

The air hung lifeless, as if the world had been vacuum-sealed. Gravel crunched under his sneakers as he edged toward the chain. Up close, it reeked of rust and something sharper—chemical, alien. He reached out, then froze.

“Touch it, and you’re dead.”

Ethan whirled. A girl stood behind him, arms crossed. Black hair framed a pale face, her green eyes sharp as broken glass. A leather jacket hung loosely over her shoulders, and in her hand glinted a device—part smartphone, part relic.

“Who the hell are you?” he snapped, voice cracking.

She smirked. “Lila. And you’re trespassing.”

“Trespassing? This is my street!”

“Not anymore.” Her gaze flicked to the chain. “Move. Now.”

“Or what? You’ll sic your sci-fi toy on me?”

Her smirk vanished. “That ‘toy’ detects them. And right now, it’s screaming. So either run with me or become another ghost story.”

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A chill snaked down Ethan’s spine. He glanced at the chain, then back at her. “Start talking. Fast.”

“Later.” She grabbed his wrist, her grip iron. “If we live.”

They darted into the labyrinth of abandoned storefronts, shadows swallowing them whole. Ethan’s neck prickled—he swore whispers skittered through the air.

“Where’s everyone gone?” he hissed as they rounded a corner.

“Gone?” Lila barked a laugh. “They’re food. The Veil takes people. Always has. But this time…” She hesitated. “This time, it’s not just taking. It’s evolving.”

“Evolving into what?”

A sound cut through—a guttural, wet hum, like a turbine drowning in blood. The ground trembled.

Lila paled. “Too late. Run!”

They lunged into an alley, backs pressed to damp brick. The hum swelled, vibrating in Ethan’s teeth. Then came the clicks—a rapid, insectile staccato.

Against every instinct, Ethan peered out.

The cloaked figure stood at the alley’s mouth. Behind it loomed a nightmare.

Nine feet tall. A body of writhing smoke, limbs too long, too jointed. Claws like fractured obsidian. No face—just a void where one should be, pulsing with sickly violet light.

It turned. The light fixed on Ethan.

“Hunter,” Lila breathed. “They smell the marked.”

“Marked?”

She yanked a crystal from her pocket—a shard of jagged ice glowing cobalt. “This reacts to you. Means the Veil wants you. And the Hunters collect what the Veil wants.”

The creature’s claws scraped concrete. Its hum pitched higher, frenzied.

“Now!” Lila dragged him into a sprint.

The alley blurred. Ethan’s lungs burned. Behind them, the Hunter’s screech tore the air—a sound like shattering mirrors.

“Left!” Lila shoved him into a narrow gap between buildings. Rats scattered as they stumbled into a derelict courtyard.

A rusted warehouse loomed ahead. Lila sprinted to a door camouflaged under graffiti, slamming her palm against a hidden keypad.

The door hissed open. “In!”

They tumbled inside. The door clanged shut, muffling the Hunter’s rage.

Ethan gasped, doubling over. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating a cavernous space crammed with makeshift beds, weapons racks, and holographic maps flickering on cracked screens. Dozens of faces turned toward him—hollow-eyed, scarred, all wearing the same grim resolve.

A man with a cybernetic arm tossed Lila a nod. “Another survivor?”

“Not just a survivor.” Lila held up the crystal, now blazing like a star. “The Veil marked him. He’s the key.”

Silence fell.

Then, like a funeral march, the crowd parted. A woman emerged—late thirties, her face a web of scars, a jagged blade strapped to her back.

“Welcome to the Hollow,” she said, voice like gravel. “You’ve just signed your soul to a war.”

Ethan’s throat went dry. “A war against what?”

The woman’s smile was all teeth. “Against the thing that’s coming to devour the world. And you, kid? You’re either our weapon… or our bait.”