The Chase

The night was misty with a light fog, and Will’s breath came in ragged bursts as he stumbled through the darkened alley. His shoes slapped the slick pavement, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence of the city’s backstreets. The streetlights flickered weakly, casting pools of light that barely pierced the gloom. Every few seconds, Will risked a glance over his shoulder, and each time, his stomach dropped into his shoes.

There it was, never far behind—tall, impossibly tall, the figure that had been following him for a while now. A vague silhouette, relentless, gliding with unnatural grace. Will hadn’t seen its face yet, but he knew in his bones that it was something terrible, something that shouldn’t exist in the world of flesh and blood.

He ducked behind a rusting dumpster, curling himself into the smallest ball possible. For a few moments, there was blessed silence. Then—

The dreadful, rhythmic tapping of shoes on pavement resumed, like a metronome on a haunted piano.

“What does it want?” Will’s mind raced as he tried to piece together the events of the evening. Nothing made sense. He had been heading home from his late shift at the fulfillment center, taking the same route he had walked a hundred times before. But tonight, something had been wrong. The moment he turned down North Hollow Road, a snaky chill slithered up his spine. That’s when he had first seen it, standing under a stuttering streetlamp, still as a statue, studying him. He had casually turned in the opposite direction, telling himself he’d figure out how to get home later. But the figure had followed, always maintaining the same, terrifyingly calm pace. Finally, Will couldn’t take the tension anymore. He broke into a sprint, hoping adrenaline would carry him far enough to escape whatever horror was looming behind him.

Now, crouched in the alley, Will felt his heart fluttering like a wounded sparrow in a cage. The tapping footsteps were closer now, purposeful, unhurried. It was as if the figure knew there was nowhere for Will to go, no escape. He tightened his eyes and held his breath, praying that the fog and darkness would conceal him.

Was this a prank? Biff, the warehouse boss, was famous for his practical jokes. But even this seemed to be beyond his usual antics, which consisted mostly of fart cushions and rubber snakes. Did he have an enemy? He combed his feverish brain for anyone he might’ve upset recently, but nothing came to mind. He was friends with everyone he worked with; they were not only his coworkers, but drinking buddies.

Then he realized—the footsteps had stopped. The silence that followed was worse than the chase. Will didn’t move. He didn’t dare breathe. Could the figure hear his heartbeat pounding against his temples? Could it smell the fear spewing from his pores?

The tapping of fingers on the dumpster lid. In that instant, Will knew what he had to do. He bolted from his hiding spot, legs burning with effort as he sped further into the alley, away from the direction he had entered. He didn’t care where he was going—he just needed to get away.

The alley opened up to an abandoned street, a lone streetlight burning at a nearby intersection. His lungs an inferno, his legs wobbly, Will dashed for the light as if it held the only salvation in the world. He skidded to a halt beneath the lamp, crouching over as he threw up on the sidewalk. His breath came in desperate gasps, the chilly night air slicing through his throat.

He looked around, frantic. The street was empty. For a fleeting moment, hope flared in his chest—maybe he had lost the ghoul.

Then he saw it.

The figure stepped out of the mouth of the alley, its form obscured in shadow. Will froze. The fog clung to it like a shroud, its shape unnatural, the vague outline of long limbs and skeletal frame standing like a confident predator, ready to pounce. Slowly, it moved forward, one step at a time, without haste, as though it knew it would soon be the victor in this eerie chase.

Will staggered back, slamming into the brick wall of an old, boarded-up shop. “No… no…”

The figure came to a halt at the edge of the streetlight’s glow, just out of reach of the illumination. Will could see more now—a coat, long and tattered, swaying slightly as the figure stood there, caught in a breeze that didn’t exist. His mouth went dry as his eyes darted from side to side, searching for help. But the street was silent, deserted. His body was paralyzed with fear, his throat too constricted to scream.

And then, slowly, deliberately, the figure stepped into the light.

Will’s knees nearly buckled as he took in the sight. The figure’s face—or what passed for a face—was a grotesque mask of twisted features. Its skin was as grey as the mist, pulled tight across the bones of its skull, with deep-set, hollow eyes that seemed to devour the light. Where its mouth should have been was a ragged line stretched into a mockery of a smile, rows of crooked brown teeth visible even in the dim light.

It stood there, staring at Will with those soulless eyes. Then, slowly, it slipped a black-gloved hand into its coat. Will’s heart seized in his chest. Was this it? Was this how it ended? He braced himself for whatever horror would come next.

The figure withdrew its hand, holding something small and rectangular.

A piece of paper.

What could it be? A curse? A death sentence? The figure unfolded the paper slowly, precisely. In a voice that was deep and rasping, it spoke.

“We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.”

It held out the paper. After a befuddled moment, Will cautiously took it. Yep, it was an offer for an extended automobile warranty, all right. When he finally looked up, the figure had melted into the misty night. The terror that had suffocated Will before now felt distant, like a half-remembered nightmare. He looked back down at the warranty, his jumbled brain taking in words like deductible and transferability.

Then it struck Will. He ran out into the middle of the deserted intersection, spinning around, shouting into the void.

“Hey, wait! I don’t even own a car!”