pagangamingdad

[pagangamingdad]

Chapter 3: The First Bite

The night air in Ironswell was different now. Ethan could feel it.

A weight pressed down on the town as the last slivers of daylight disappeared beyond the horizon. The streets were quiet—too quiet. As if the entire town was holding its breath.

Ethan and Sarah had decided to stay together tonight. If something was happening, neither of them wanted to face it alone.

Sarah locked the café’s front door as Ethan double-checked the windows. They had agreed to stay inside after dark, at least until they had a better understanding of what was going on.

But then—

A scream.

It was sharp, raw, and filled with pure terror.

Ethan and Sarah froze.

The scream came from just outside, somewhere down the street.

Then came the sound of something else.

A wet, tearing noise. A deep, guttural growl that wasn’t human.

Ethan’s stomach turned to ice.

Sarah met his gaze, fear flashing in her wide eyes. “We should stay inside,” she whispered.

Ethan wanted to agree. Every instinct screamed at him to stay put. But something else clawed at the back of his mind—curiosity, dread, a sick need to see.

He moved toward the window, just enough to peek outside.

At first, he saw nothing. The streetlights flickered dimly, casting long shadows over the pavement.

Then—

A figure stumbled into view.

It was a woman. Her clothes were torn, soaked in something dark. She staggered forward, her body jerking unnaturally.

And then, behind her—

It stepped into the light.

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat.

The thing that followed the woman wasn’t human anymore.

Its skin was grayish, cracked, like dried clay peeling away from something rotten underneath. Its mouth was stretched too wide, jaw unhinged, a dark ooze dripping from between jagged teeth. Its eyes—if they could even be called that—were sunken pits of blackness.

The woman tried to run, but her body was failing. A deep wound gaped at her shoulder, where a chunk of flesh had been torn away. Blood oozed from the ragged tear.

She turned, pleading toward the empty street.

“No,” she gasped. “Please. Someone—”

The thing lunged.

Its claws sank into her back, dragging her down.

She screamed again—only for a moment.

Then the thing ripped her throat out.

A sickening crunch filled the air.

Sarah clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a horrified gasp.

Ethan grabbed her wrist. “We need to go. Now.”

---

The Hunt Begins

They bolted toward the back door of the café.

Ethan’s mind raced. What the hell had he just seen? Was that what the people of Ironswell were becoming?

“We need to get to my apartment,” Ethan panted. “We can barricade ourselves in.”

Sarah nodded, still pale. But before they could move—

A noise.

Not a scream this time. Something worse.

A low, wet chattering sound.

Ethan turned.

Something was crawling toward them from the alley.

It moved wrong—its limbs bending the wrong way, its fingers twitching like a spider’s legs. Its mouth opened and closed repeatedly, producing that grotesque chattering noise.

And then—it charged.

Sarah screamed as the thing lunged at them.

Ethan shoved her out of the way, barely dodging as clawed fingers raked through the air where he had just been standing.

The thing slammed into the ground, but it didn’t stop. It twisted unnaturally, snapping its joints as it scuttled toward Sarah on all fours.

Ethan grabbed a metal chair from the café’s patio and swung.

The impact sent the thing sprawling, its head cracking against the pavement.

For a second, everything was still.

Then—

It twitched.

Sarah yanked Ethan’s arm. “We need to go!”

They ran.

But the thing got up too fast.

A sickening crack echoed as it reset its broken limbs.

Then it lunged again—

Sarah wasn’t fast enough.

Its teeth sank into her arm.

She screamed.

Ethan ripped the thing away, slamming it back into the ground. Again. Again.

It stopped moving.

But it was too late.

Sarah collapsed against the alley wall, clutching her arm.

Ethan’s heart hammered as he saw the bite.

Deep.

Jagged.

Already darkening around the edges.

Sarah’s breath was ragged. Her hands shook as she stared at the wound. “Ethan,” she whispered. “What’s happening to me?”

Ethan had no answer.

But he knew one thing.

If she was changing—if this was what the town had become—

Then time was running out.

For both of them.

[pagangamingdad]

Chapter 2: The First Night

The walk back to his apartment felt longer than usual. Every shadow stretched too far, every distant sound felt like a whisper at the back of his neck. Ethan had never been the paranoid type, but after the strange behavior at the café, the old theater lighting up for the first time in years, and the eerie presence of that black SUV, something in his gut told him things were about to get worse.

Sarah had said goodnight quickly after they left Main Street, but Ethan could tell she was just as shaken as he was. They had both seen that shadow in the theater, that still, silent figure watching them. And they had both seen the SUV, its dark windows hiding whoever was inside.

Ethan checked the lock on his apartment door twice before stepping inside. He shut it behind him, pressing his back against the wood for a moment, listening.

Silence.

His apartment was exactly as he had left it—dimly lit by the glow of the streetlights outside, nothing disturbed, nothing unusual. But still, the unease clung to him.

After a quick shower, he collapsed onto the couch, flipping on the TV more for background noise than anything else. The local news was on, but it was the same old routine—weather updates, a report on a minor traffic accident near the highway, some fluff piece about a town fundraiser.

Nothing about the theater reopening. Nothing about Project Nocturne.

It was as if no one else had noticed.

Ethan leaned forward, rubbing his temples. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe it was just some weird coincidence.

Then the phone rang.

The sound cut through the quiet like a knife, sharp and unexpected. He grabbed his cell from the coffee table, frowning at the unknown number flashing on the screen.

A part of him wanted to ignore it.

Instead, he answered.

“Hello?”

For a moment, there was only silence. A soft static hissed in the background, like an old radio barely tuned to a station.

Then, a whisper.

“Don’t trust them. They’re watching.”

Ethan’s blood ran cold.

The call cut off before he could respond.

He stared at the phone, his breathing uneven. His thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to call the number back, but he already knew it wouldn’t work. Whoever had called didn’t want a conversation.

They wanted to warn him.

But about what?

And then—

A knock at the door.

Ethan’s stomach twisted.

It was nearly midnight. No one came by this late.

Slowly, he stood, moving toward the door with careful steps. He hesitated, glancing through the peephole.

There was no one there.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He backed away from the door, his heart pounding. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe just a prank, or a mistake.

But then, outside his window, something moved.

A shadow.

Not a passing car. Not a stray branch swaying in the wind.

A person.

Standing in the alley across the street.

Watching him.

Ethan’s breath hitched. He quickly flicked off the lamp, stepping back into the darkness of his apartment, peering through the blinds.

The figure remained still, their face hidden in the dim light.

Then, without warning—

They turned and walked away.

Disappearing into the night.

A Town That Sleeps, A Town That Lies

Ethan barely slept. Every creak in the apartment, every gust of wind against the windows set his nerves on edge. By the time morning came, he felt like he hadn’t rested at all.

The town, however, looked the same as it always had. The sun rose over the streets, people moved about their day as if nothing had changed.

But Ethan knew better.

At the café, Sarah was already behind the counter when he walked in.

She looked up as he approached, her eyes tired, like she hadn’t slept much either.

“You okay?” she asked, sliding him his usual coffee.

Ethan hesitated, debating how much to say.

“Something happened last night,” he admitted.

Sarah leaned in slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I got a phone call. No name, no number. Just someone whispering that I shouldn’t trust ‘them.’”

Sarah’s brows furrowed. “Who’s ‘them’?”

Ethan shook his head. “I don’t know. But then, right after that, someone knocked on my door. When I looked, no one was there. And later, I saw someone standing outside my apartment. Just watching.”

A flicker of fear passed over Sarah’s face, but she quickly masked it.

“Ethan,” she said slowly, “I think we need to talk.”

Something about the way she said it sent a chill down his spine.

Sarah glanced toward the other customers, then nodded toward the back room. “Come with me.”

Ethan followed her through the small door into the storage area, where shelves of coffee beans and supplies filled the space. Sarah shut the door behind them and turned to face him.

“There’s something wrong with this town,” she said quietly.

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat.

She knew.

Sarah rubbed her arms as if trying to shake off a cold. “I don’t know how to explain it. But over the past few weeks, people have been… different. They go about their lives like everything’s normal, but I see it. The way some of them stare off for too long. The way others stop talking mid-sentence and just… freeze.”

Ethan thought about the old man in the park. The man in the café. The way they had both seemed vacant, lifeless.

Sarah continued, lowering her voice. “Last night, I had a customer come in right before closing. He was one of the regulars—always cheerful, always talkative. But last night? He was different. He just sat there, not touching his drink, staring at the wall. When I asked if he was okay, he looked at me like he didn’t know who I was.”

Ethan felt his pulse quicken.

“And then,” she whispered, “when he left… I saw him walking down the street. And for a second, just a second—his shadow didn’t match him.”

Ethan’s skin prickled.

Sarah swallowed hard. “I don’t think these people are the same at night.”

The words sent a cold shock through Ethan’s system.

He had felt it. Seen it.

And now, hearing it from Sarah confirmed the worst possibility.

Something was happening to the town when the sun went down.

Something was changing people.

And whatever Project Nocturne was—

It was only the beginning.

[pagangamingdad]

Chapter 1: Shadows at Twilight

The sun set slowly over Ironswell, casting a golden light on the streets and turning the world into something almost magical. But as the last rays dipped below the horizon, an unsettling chill began to creep through the air, wrapping itself around the town like a tightening noose.

Ethan Harris had grown used to the rhythm of life in Ironswell. The quiet, peaceful town had never given him reason to doubt its slow, predictable pace. For years, it had been a place where people lived simple lives. There were no big changes. No sudden shocks. Just a sense of safety. A false security.

His jog through the park was part of his routine—a way to clear his mind before starting the day. He had always taken comfort in the monotony of it. Every day felt the same: the same air, the same trees, the same faces. As he jogged along the winding trail, the crunch of his footsteps on the gravel was the only sound that accompanied him.

But today, something felt different.

Ethan paused near a familiar bench where an old man sat. He had seen the man before, usually with a newspaper in hand, chatting with the regulars who came through the park every morning. But today, the man was still. Too still. His hands rested at his sides, his gaze fixed on the ground before him. There was a vacancy in his eyes, a lifelessness that Ethan couldn’t quite place.

The older man’s once-vibrant face was now drawn and empty, his lips slightly parted as if he were about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Ethan stood there for a moment, unsure of whether he should approach or leave him be.

“Are you alright?” Ethan asked, his voice tentative.

The man didn’t respond. His head didn’t even shift toward Ethan. It was as though he hadn’t heard the question, or worse, hadn’t cared to.

Ethan’s brow furrowed in concern, but before he could speak again, the man’s eyes blinked slowly, and he returned to staring blankly at the ground.

Shaking his head, Ethan backed away, continuing his jog but with a growing sense of discomfort. He tried to brush off the moment, telling himself that the old man was just tired, maybe a little unwell.

But the unease followed him as he completed his loop through the park.

The café on Elm Street was small and cozy, the kind of place where everyone knew your name—and your usual order. Ethan had been coming here for years. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries welcomed him as he entered.

“Morning, Ethan,” Sarah greeted him with a warm smile as she prepared his usual order—an espresso, no sugar, black. Her dark brown eyes twinkled with a friendly energy, and her laughter was infectious. It was the kind of easy friendship that made this place feel like home.

“Morning, Sarah,” he replied, sitting at his usual table near the window. The quiet hum of the café was soothing, the soft sound of coffee machines whirring and the chatter of locals providing a comforting background to his thoughts.

But as Ethan settled into his seat, something felt off. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

The café wasn’t crowded—just a few regulars, sipping their drinks and reading newspapers. But across the room, a man sat alone. His posture was rigid, his hands folded tightly on the table. Ethan didn’t recognize him, but what bothered him was the way the man stared at his cup of coffee. He wasn’t drinking it. He wasn’t reading anything. He simply stared at the empty space in front of him, his eyes distant and unfocused.

It was the kind of stare you might expect from someone lost in thought or in deep contemplation. But there was nothing reflective in his gaze. It was blank. Vacant.

Ethan tried not to look, but the man’s presence was undeniable, and it made his skin crawl.

“Here you go.” Sarah placed the coffee in front of him with a smile, breaking his gaze away from the man.

Ethan took a sip of his espresso, but his attention kept drifting back to the stranger. Something didn’t sit right about him.

“You okay, Ethan?” Sarah asked, noticing his distracted expression.

“Yeah,” Ethan replied, his voice betraying his unease. “Just… I don’t know. Something about that guy across the room.” He nodded toward the stranger, who hadn’t moved an inch since Ethan first noticed him.

Sarah looked over briefly, then shrugged. “Don’t worry about him. We get all sorts of people coming through here. Maybe he’s just having an off day. I’ll check on him in a minute.”

But Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He stared at the stranger, his mind racing, trying to piece together the oddness of the situation. The man’s eyes weren’t just unfocused—they were completely empty. No sign of life, no hint of recognition. Just a hollow stare.

“Thanks,” Ethan said, trying to let the odd feeling slide away.

But as the day went on, it became harder to ignore the mounting sense of something… strange.

By the time the evening rolled around, the weight of the day’s discomfort hung on Ethan like a heavy coat. He had worked through his shift at the hardware store, but the unsettling feeling never fully left him. As he made his way home, the town felt quieter than usual, the streets darkening too quickly, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

Ethan turned onto Main Street and froze.

The old theater, which had been closed for as long as he could remember, now stood with its lights blazing. The marquee read: Project Nocturne.

He squinted, unsure if he was seeing things. The theater was a relic from another time, its once-glorious exterior now faded and cracked. It had been abandoned for years. The idea that it was suddenly open, especially for something called Project Nocturne, didn’t sit right with him.

The name sounded ominous, and the building itself seemed out of place, as though it had been brought back from the past for a reason no one cared to explain. Ethan stepped closer to the theater, his feet moving instinctively as if drawn by something he didn’t understand.

But just before he could reach the door, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Ethan.”

He turned quickly to see Sarah standing behind him, her eyes wide with concern. Her usually calm demeanor was replaced with something more urgent.

“What’s going on?” Ethan asked, his voice low. “What’s Project Nocturne?”

Sarah hesitated, glancing over her shoulder toward the darkened theater. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “But something isn’t right.”

Just then, the door to the theater creaked open, and Ethan caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure standing inside. The figure didn’t move—just stood there, watching.

Ethan’s heart raced. “Do you see that?”

Sarah nodded. “I’m not going in there. Not alone. We should get out of here.”

But before they could leave, a car drove past them slowly, its headlights cutting through the growing darkness. A black SUV, its tinted windows reflecting the faint light from the streetlamps. It slowed as it passed, the engine purring quietly before it sped away into the night.

Ethan’s pulse quickened.

“I don’t like this,” he said, grabbing Sarah’s arm. “Let’s go.”

As they hurried away from the theater, Ethan’s thoughts raced. The town had always been quiet. Safe. But now, it felt like it was falling apart at the seams.

And whatever Project Nocturne was, it was only the beginning.