The Evening
The walk back to the orphanage was slower than necessary. And by the time they reached the tall iron gates of the orphanage, the evening had fully bled into night. The pale glow of the streetlamp bathed the familiar building in muted orange, its brick walls weathered with time but still standing, a stubborn reminder of endurance.
Mira darted through the gates first, spinning on her heel and pointing at him. "You know... you'll have to explain to them why I'm late, right?"
Kyle smirked faintly. "What happened to being an adult?"
Mira dropped her gaze. They walked together up the short stone path. The front door creaked open before they could knock, revealing Mother Janine, her figure framed in the warm glow spilling from inside. She was a stout woman with streaks of silver in her hair, her stern eyes softening instantly at the sight of Mira.
"There you are." she said, voice more relief than scolding. Her gaze shifted to Kyle. "And you, Kyle... bringing her back late?"
Kyle raised his hands in mock defense. "Sorry Mother. We were celebrating, she passed her math test."
Janine's sternness cracked into a proud smile. "You did? Mira, that's wonderful."
Mira lit up, bouncing into her arms. "I told you I'd do it! Kyle said I could."
"Well, Kyle was right." Janine smoothed her hair, her eyes warm but tired. "Come, dear. Let's go and celebrate again."
Before she left, Mira broke free and threw her arms around Kyle. The hug was carrying the unspoken gratitude of a younger sister who'd found someone to believe in her. "Thanks again, Kyle. For everything."
He gave her a soft pat on the head, a rare smile ghosting his lips. "Don't slack off now. Passing once doesn't mean you're done."
She rolled her eyes playfully and disappeared with Janine, her laughter echoing faintly up the stairs.
The doorway remained open and a heavier voice filled the silence. Father Elias, broad-shouldered with a face carved by years of care, leaned against the frame of the hall. His eyes rested on Kyle with something close to respect.
"Damn, Kyle." Elias muttered, arms crossing. "You actually got through to her. Do you know how many times I've tried to make her care about school? You must have some secret trick."
Kyle shook his head. "There's no trick. I just told her the truth. That if she doesn't stick with it, she'll end up like me... barely scraping by, working jobs that grind you down. Living in a place no one wants to live in."
Elias let out a thoughtful grunt, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a half-smile. "Sometimes honesty hits harder than lectures. You might've just saved her future."
"Or maybe she just got tired of me nagging her." Kyle tried to joke, though his voice carried a weight even humor couldn't hide.
Elias clapped him on the shoulder, firm but grateful. "Either way, you helped her. Thank you."
Kyle offered a faint nod, not trusting himself to say more. He adjusted his jacket and stepped back into the cool night air.
The city had shifted while he'd been inside. The lively chatter of the streets had dimmed into a lower hum, shops shuttered and alleys draped in thicker shadows. Streetlights buzzed weakly, painting the world in long, jagged streaks of pale orange. Kyle walked without direction, letting his thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.
His feet carried him away from the main roads. The sound of the crowd faded until only the echo of his footsteps remained and soon he stood at the mouth of a narrow alley.
The space ahead was cloaked in darkness, broken only by a distant pool of light at the far end. Trash cans were scattered against the walls, the air heavy with the stench of rot. The alley seemed to beckon, a void that swallowed sound and sense alike.
Then he heard a voice. Not his own but from deep inside his head.
"Don't go there... turn around."
Kyle froze, breath catching. The voice was familiar, feminine and carrying a bite of mockery wrapped around something darker.
He pressed his hand against his temple, shaking his head. "Not tonight…"
The voice had haunted him for as long as he could remember, a constant parasite whispering things he didn't want to hear. Sometimes it made him question his sanity. Other times, like now... it almost felt like a warning.
He stepped into the alley. The further he went, the stronger a stench of old oily water became. Then he heard the sound of tearing flesh, the heavy rasp of something feeding.
Kyle's stomach twisted as he turned the corner. There, crouched in the dim glow of a dying streetlamp, was a creature unlike anything he had seen outside of nightmares. Its body was a grotesque fusion of muscle and bone, six crooked legs digging into the concrete as its hunched back shuddered with each motion. Its face was buried in the torn torso of a man.
The victim's eyes were still open, glassy with terror. Blood pooled beneath him, steam rising faintly in the cool night air.
The man's head twitched weakly and his lips moved. "H… help…"
Kyle staggered back. His hand clipped against a rusted trash can, sending it clattering to the ground.
The sound was deafening in the alley. The creature froze. And slowly, its head lifted, with strands of crimson hanging from its jaws. Its glowing eyes locked on him.
The man's body slumped, discarded like refuse.
Kyle's legs refused to move. He was caught between terror and disbelief, his body locked as the beast's gaze bore into him.
And in that moment, Kyle realized that this was no delusion. This was real.