She furrowed her brow; she had only made it to the stairway. The old steam-run equipment was a shadowy playground. She could hear their bellows, imagine them salivating at the thought of prey; a body to tear apart. They were in pursuit, their running feet echoing through the abandoned factory.
Why hadn’t she listened to the warning. The stranger banging into her on the avenue, and then whispering in a lyrical voice: “They have your scent. They will find you. They will eat your body and your soul.” As the stranger disappeared into the crowd, with me dodging in between the sidewalk horde to catch up, I called after him. “Who are they? Why do they want to eat my body and soul?”
He had melted into the streetscape. Soon she would know.
PS: Still working on Wordle 3, I promise!