Jon froze where he stood.
The metal clang echoed again — sharp, metallic, and too heavy to be a small animal. His breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he thought about running back home, locking the door, and pretending none of this was real.
But Mikey's torn red cap in his hand whispered one truth:
He wasn't alone.
Someone — or something — had been here.
Jon stepped forward, boots crunching on the gravel as he crossed the baseball field. The dugout loomed ahead, dark and shadowed. That was where the noise came from. Halfway there, he noticed the dirt around home plate.
It wasn't just footprints.
It was a trail.
Strange grooves, deep V-shaped claw marks, and alongside them…
Human footprints. Running.
Jon's heart hammered.
Mikey.
It had to be.
"I'm coming, man," Jon whispered, more to convince himself than anything.
He followed the trail toward the dugout. As he got closer, he saw that the chain-link gate hung crooked — like something strong had slammed into it. He pushed it aside, the metal whine echoing uneasily around the silent field.
Inside the dugout, dust floated lazily in the light. Helmets and bats were scattered everywhere, like a game interrupted mid-play.
Jon swallowed and knelt.
There were marks on the concrete floor — scratches, deep ones. Something was dragged. Or someone.
"Mikey…" Jon's voice cracked.
A sudden gust of wind — cold and electric — washed over him. But it wasn't natural wind. It hummed faintly, like it carried a vibration.
Jon stood up fast.
Behind the dugout, something flickered. Not light — more like a ripple, as if the air bent for a moment and then snapped back into place.
Jon stepped around the dugout slowly.
That's when he saw them.
Footsteps.
Dozens of them.
Leading away from town.
Some were Mikey's sneakers.
Some were adult shoes — men, women, older people.
But mixed through all of them were the strange three-toed impressions, deep and heavy. They circled the human tracks like a hunting pattern.
And the strangest part:
The steps didn't fade.
They ended.
Abruptly.
As if everyone stepped into thin air.
Jon crouched, touching one of the last footprints — Jessica's size. He could tell because her left shoe always dragged a little at the tip.
His chest tightened.
Jessica was taken too.
He closed his eyes for a moment. He could almost hear her voice — soft, warm, nervous whenever she talked to him. She had laughed at every dumb joke he ever made. Mikey always teased the two of them about "secret feelings," but Jon never admitted a thing.
And now she was gone.
A sharp crack behind him snapped him out of it.
Jon spun around.
A rusted concession stand door was slowly swinging open, though there was no wind.
He stared at it.
Another clang echoed inside the stand.
Jon's legs were shaking, but he forced himself forward. If Mikey was hurt or hiding, he needed to know.
He pushed the door aside.
Inside, the place was a wreck. Boxes spilled out onto the floor. A cooler was knocked over. Something had smashed through a shelf.
Then Jon saw it — a trail of red dust footprints leading behind the counter.
But these weren't Mikey's. They were too small. Too light.
His chest tightened.
"Jessica…?" he whispered.
Another noise came — a small metal ping — deeper behind the counter.
Jon slid over it and crouched low.
There was a shadow tremoring on the back wall. Someone was hiding. Someone breathing fast.
Jon steadied himself.
"It's okay…" he said softly. "I—I'm not gonna hurt you."
The shadow froze.
Jon leaned in just enough to see—
A pair of wide brown eyes stared back at him, terrified.
He knew those eyes anywhere.
"Jessica?" he breathed.
Her hands shot out, grabbing his hoodie and pulling him behind the counter as fast as she could. She was shaking, whispering frantically into his ear:
"Jon — quiet. It's still out there."
His blood ran cold.
"What? What's out there?" Jon whispered back.
Jessica didn't answer with words.
She pointed.
And Jon felt every muscle in his body turn to ice.
Because stepping into the concession stand doorway…
Bending low to fit its towering shape…
Was a creature with glowing white eyes and three massive clawed feet.
It sniffed the air.
Hunting.
And Jon realized something horrifying:
Whatever took everyone…
came back.
And now it had found them.