The streets were quiet, wrapped in the hush of night. A lone car moved along the empty asphalt, headlights cutting through the darkness like twin blades. Inside, the hum of the engine filled the silence, broken only by the soft murmurs of its passengers.
The man gripped the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. Beside him, a woman watched him carefully, her hands resting lightly on her lap. In the backseat, a small boy, no more than seven, slept, curled against the seatbelt as the car glided along the empty streets.
"So... what are we going to do about it?" the man asked, his voice low but tense, the weight of uncertainty hanging in his tone.
The woman shifted slightly, glancing out the window as if searching for an answer in the shadows of the streetlights. "I don't know," she replied softly. "But... we'll figure it out someday."
He nodded, turning his attention back to the road. The night pressed in around them, quiet and endless, until something appeared-or seemed to appear-in the distance.
At first, he thought it was a person, standing in the middle of the lane. But the shape was vague, impossible to discern. Before he could react, it seemed to materialize right in front of the car, as though it had been there all along, waiting.
Heart pounding, he yanked the wheel to avoid it. The tires screamed against the asphalt as the car swerved violently, veering off the side of the road. The ground sloped sharply-a hill descending toward another street below-and the vehicle pitched, losing all control.
Metal screeched. Glass shattered. The world spun in a chaotic blur as the car rolled down the hill, bouncing and twisting, until it finally slammed against the earth with a violent crash. Flames erupted from the mangled wreck, licking the night air, consuming metal and memory alike.
When the smoke cleared, the man and woman lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving, their faces pale in the firelight. The boy, trapped in the backseat moments before, now lay nearby, battered and bleeding. Slowly, with a groan of pain, he opened one eye.
"Mom... Dad..." His voice was barely a whisper, raw and faint, carrying more fear than sound.
And then he saw it.
A shadow stood over them-dark, silent, impossibly still. It didn't move like a person, yet it radiated presence, immense and strange. Its edges seemed to flicker, almost as if it were made of smoke or memory, yet undeniably real. The boy's heart raced, and the pain in his body seemed to sharpen as he stared at the figure.
The boy's body went limp, collapsed onto the scorched ground, blood and dirt mixing on his small frame. The fire crackled beside the wreckage, throwing flickering light across the scene. Yet amid the chaos, a new presence moved.
The shadow stepped closer, its form shifting and fluid, dark as midnight yet somehow solid. Its eyes were bright white, piercing and radiant against the darkness of its form. They locked on the boy with an intensity that felt almost alive, burning with a strange, silent curiosity.
It bent over him, studying his fragile, unconscious body with an unsettling stillness. Then, almost imperceptibly, the shadow smiled-a small, knowing curve that was both gentle and unnervingly aware of the world around it.