James sat back in his office chair. His closet-sized office was littered with cigarette butts and chip bags, which were scattered all across the floor. His desk had crushed cans and crumbs on it. His steaming coffee cup wafted the bitter cocoa scent into the air. He inhaled deeply as he calmly stared at the screens in front of him.

It was the night shift at the store he worked at. Marco’s Groceries was the popular grocery store among those who lived on this side of town—the “poor” side, as many called it. Marco sold cheap products. They were decent at best. It had three security cameras up, and James had to make sure no thieves came in to rob Marco. It was a simple job, as most people respected Marco and his work. Most of the products sold weren’t worth the effort to steal, anyway, so James saw it as free money. He was even given his own office in the back.

He’d been working there for a few weeks from 12-5 in the afternoon, making sure teenagers weren’t shoplifting, but nothing had happened. Then Marco asked James to work from 11-4 in the morning. He hesitantly agreed after Marco offered him double the pay for working at such late hours.

As he watched the cameras with increasingly heavy eyes, he noticed something behind one of the produce shelves. A few items rattled and fell. James’s eyebrows burrowed and he leaned forward, his chair squeaking as he did so. He looked closer and saw nothing, assuming he had just imagined something.

Then he saw one of the shelves completely collapse. He jumped as he heard the crash through the wall. Apples and oranges rolled away from the site. Bananas were smooshed into the nearby rug. James froze in both confusion and fear. He didn’t know what he should do.

He looked around for a weapon. He remembered Marco had a shotgun in the other office. James grabbed the keys on his desk and shakily stood up. Just as he did, the metal door beside him began rattling. Someone—or something—was banging against it. The pounds were rapid and heavy, far heavier than a person could do. The bangs echoed through the small room, so loud it was almost as if whoever was on the other side was punching James’s eardrums rather than the door.

James back into the wall on the opposite side of the door. His eyes widened in terror and he shot his head to his desk. He spotted his phone and darted to it.

He opened messages and found Marco’s contact. He quickly yet shakily typed out a plea for help.

“Marco, someone broke in and I think they’re trying to kill me” he sent. He shut his phone off and prayed for a response.

Suddenly, the banging stopped. The room was silent except for the thumping of James’s heartbeat and his breaths which seemed so loud he almost held his breath. He swallowed. The door made a small click noise that made James jump so hard his head knocked into the wall. The door slowly creaked open.

On the other side was what could only be described as a shadow, barely visible, but it could be sensed. James felt the energy. He felt the air turn freezing. He felt faint. The shadow was ten feet tall. It began entering the room, having to bend its body to fit under the doorway. It’s arm smacked against the ceiling and it bend its neck into a 90 degree angle. It’s legs crouched and straightened as it creeped into the room.

Is stood still for what felt like eternity. James was completely frozen in fear. The shadow was making eye contact—at least, James could sense that it was. The shadow didn’t exactly have eyes.

In the blink of an eye, the shadow shot one of its long, thin arms to James and wrapped around his neck. He was lifted into the air and his head hit the ceiling. The shadow made an ear-piercing screech that sounded like a shredder being amplified. James felt the warm blood pooling out of his ears and lips. The world turned fuzzy and began spinning. He couldn’t tell if the darkness around him was being caused by his slipping consciousness or by the shadow’s mouth nearing him, but he knew this was the end.