Her breath caught as she heard the voice again.
"Move."
The serpent hissed and slithered deeper into the building, bones snapping behind it. Andrew's steps followed — slow, deliberate, painful.
The door creaked open.
Zora turned to run.
"Stop."
Pain. Every nerve in her body seized like a vice. She froze in place, barely able to breathe, let alone scream.
"Ahhh… Zora," Andrew crooned, his face inches from hers. His eyes bulged from their sockets, bloodshot and wild. Drool dripped from his slack jaw. "My favorite… hard worker."
"Why are you doing this?! Let me go!"
Andrew laughed. Loud, wheezing, awful.
"Now why would I—"
His body seized. Swelled. Bones groaned under his skin as his chest ballooned, veins blackening. Then he shrank, twitching.
"DAMMIT!"
She wanted to throw up. But she couldn't move.
"Fine," he hissed. "Get in here."
The wall shattered. The serpent slithered in, curling around Zora as Andrew began to convulse again.
And then — something tackled him.
A blur.
It slammed him to the floor, clamped a hand over his mouth.
Then sank its teeth into his neck.
Blood spurted from the wound, but the creature refused to let go — its jaw clamping harder and harder until the flow finally stopped.
The snake loosened its coils around Zora, the tension fading from its massive body as Andrew's command died with him.
Zora collapsed to the floor, panting.
I have to get out of here. Holy shit...
She pushed herself up on trembling legs, then threw herself over the snake's thick body, inching toward the front door — careful not to draw attention from the thing still latched onto Andrew's throat.
Behind her, a loud hiss.
She froze.
Turning her head, she came face to face with the serpent's giant red eye. It blinked once, slowly... then slithered out of the café without another word.
Great... just great...
She reached the door and pushed it open — only to be yanked back inside like a ragdoll.
She slammed into the far wall with a thud, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Coughing, gasping, she looked up — and screamed internally.
Towering over her was something worse than the snake.
Its gray, leathery skin stretched taut over a bony, skeletal frame. Its eyes were pits of endless black. Its nose was barely more than two holes. But it was the mouth that stole her breath — a mouth lined with long, jagged teeth, each stained red and curled into a nightmarish grin.
"Can I drink yours too? Please?"
The voice was feminine — mockingly so. Too deep. Warped. Like a recording played through a broken speaker.
Zora's voice caught. "U-uh... n-no?"
A beat passed. Then...
"No? No? No no no no no no no no?" the thing chanted, head tilting sharply with each repetition.
Its mouth opened — wider and wider — until Zora was sure it could swallow her whole.
I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.
Then, suddenly — calm.
Her heart slowed.
Her thoughts quieted.
And then, a voice — not her own — whispered:
"Not today, you aren't."
Zora snapped her head around.
A light.
A star — glowing bright, hovering just behind her shoulder.
The monster noticed it too. It stopped. Snapped its mouth shut. Turned.
Its eyes narrowed, uncertain.
And then the room filled with brilliant light.
Great. I'm gonna die AND I can't see.
She shielded her eyes — the light was blinding. But just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished, sinking into her chest with a soft whoomph.
The creature paused, sniffed the air... then opened its jaws again.
CRUSH IT.
Zora's hand moved on its own. Her fist clenched — and the thing screamed.
With a horrible shriek, it dropped to its knees. Its limbs twitched violently, then its entire body flattened, pancaked into the floor with a sickening crunch.
Zora's eyes widened. "W-what...?"
Her fist loosened. The pressure stopped. She stared at the grotesque smear that used to be a monster.
Then—
You did it! You did it!
A child's voice echoed around her. A light zipped out from her chest and began circling her head in dizzying loops.
She blinked. "Uhm... hello?"
"Hi!" the star chirped. "You looked like you needed help. Mom and Dad always say — if someone's in danger, you gotta help 'em!"
It blinked at her, then resumed its joyful orbit.
Zora stood slowly. Her muscles felt light, her heart energized, her body alive.
"I feel amazing…" she murmured.
"That's because I went inside you!" the star sang. "You let me in! That means you changed!"
Zora grinned. "Well… thanks, I guess."
The star ignored her completely, zipping around like a child high on sugar.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed in her apron pocket.
Zora fumbled it out, and her heart leapt when she saw the caller ID: Mom.
Oh thank god they're still alive.
She swiped to answer and pressed it to her ear.
"Mom? Are you okay? How's Dad? Are you guys... normal?"
She heard rustling, then her mother's voice barked something sharp in furious Dominican Spanish:
"¡Diache, viejo, esa muchacha no se calla! Habla y habla, uno no puede ni decir nada."
Zora's eyes filled with tears. That's my mom, alright. Always snapping in Spanish when things got hectic.
"I was cryin', but ju messed it up — now I'm irritated. Talk to ju fadda."
Zora rolled her eyes with a weak laugh. Her dad's voice took over the line.
"Zora? Are you okay?"
She took a deep breath, trying to hold it in — but her voice cracked. "Yeah, Dad... it's been a long day."
Then the dam broke.
"I know, baby. I know," he said gently, pain in his voice. "I'm on my way to—"
"NO! Don't come here!" she interrupted, staring at the bloody wreckage around her. "I-I'll come home. Please, don't come here."
There was silence on the line. Then her mother again:
"Fine. But if ju not here in an hour, we comin' for ju."
"Tirty minutes. NO MORE."
Her dad sighed. "You heard her. Get moving. We'll be waiting."
They exchanged soft I love yous before the call ended.
Zora slipped the phone into her pocket, pulled off her apron, and headed toward the door.
She hesitated at the threshold, bracing for another ambush. But nothing came.
"Go go go!" the star buzzed behind her excitedly.
Zora glanced around the café one last time — the ruined tables, the broken walls, the blood — and then stepped out into the town she used to call home.