The door opened slowly.
Almost silently. But Dave still heard it — the faintest creak of metal, strained, like someone was deliberately trying not to make a sound. He froze.
His body tensed on its own, as if it knew: something was coming. The room grew strangely stuffy. The air thickened, as if it were being shared with something else.
Then came the footsteps.
Quiet, like water dripping on glass — but with each step, more distinct. Whatever was approaching was heavy. The floor tile cracked beneath its weight. Somewhere, a tin can rolled — hit the wall, clattered, and fell still. And after that — only breathing.
Ragged. Rapid. With a low, snarling rasp at the end of each exhale.
Dave peeked out from behind the counter.
He saw the beast.
It was a wolf. Or what had once been one. Massive. Gray fur hanging in filthy clumps. Its ribs rose and fell in a manic rhythm. Thick, cloudy drool dripped from its jaws, trailing across the tile. Its eyes — crazed. Starving. Wild. It snorted, sniffing the air, searching.
"The scent of a man…" Dave whispered.And the wolf lunged.
He didn't even have time to think.
The massive body soared over the counter. The thud of its paws slamming into the register rang in his ears. The wolf landed, arched over him.
And their eyes locked.
Eye to eye.
Silence. Thick as oil.No rustle. No sound.
Pressure crushed down on him like a truck. Instinct, fear, blood, heartbeat — everything merged. They stared at each other. Unblinking.
One second.
Dave's hand — already on the gun. He wasn't breathing. Muscles tense, ready to snap.
Two.
The wolf exhaled sharply. One leap — and it would be over.
And then—
"Meow?"
A soft, fragile sound. Barely audible. But it rang out like a gunshot.
The wolf jerked its head.
Eyes — on Ronny. The kitten stood in the corner, fur bristled, but he didn't run.
"Thank you… Ronny," Dave whispered.
His hand moved.
The pistol. Slide click. Cold steel in his grip. All of it — faster than thought.
The wolf turned again. Its jaws opened. It leapt.
Gunshot.
The bullet struck just below the neck, punching through. The beast's body crashed mid-air, thudding to the floor. It twitched. Then went still.
Silence.
This time — real.
Only the sound of his own breathing. And the roar of blood in his ears.
Dave stood motionless. The pistol still in his hand.The wolf no longer breathed.
He stepped closer. Cautiously.
The body was huge. More like a mutated creature than a normal animal. Patches of skin. Scars. A deep wound on its side — old, long healed. It had survived other fights. But not this one.
Nearby — Ronny. Staring at the dead beast. Not afraid. Just… wary.
"Time to get out of here," Dave said quietly.
He understood: the gunshot could attract others. If this wolf wasn't alone. And if it was — it was an exception. And exceptions don't come twice.
He knelt, picked up Ronny. The kitten pressed against him, still trembling slightly.
Leaving the supermarket, Dave stepped back into the street.
The city remained silent.
He walked slowly, glancing over his shoulder. The pistol was still in his hand. The sun stood high. Its light no longer stung his eyes, but it remained unpleasant. Hot. Almost… hostile.
"The light of the sun will save you…But it will also destroy you."
The words resurfaced again. As if the sun itself was watching him from above — and grinning.
Dave stopped near a half-ruined building. The upper balcony had collapsed. The windows — empty. The walls — flaked with graffiti, the words lost. Only faded images remained.
He sat on a chunk of broken concrete.
Ronny curled up beside him, licking his paw like nothing had happened. Though no — not quite. He was still alert. Lifting his head now and then, watching the street.
"I don't know what happened here," Dave said, staring into the void. "But the world died. Or turned into something else."
He looked down at his hands.
At the pistol.
At the kitten.
"And I have no idea who I am. Why there's a mark on my forehead. What that phrase about the sun means. But one thing I do know…"
He stood.
Lifted Ronny. The kitten wrapped around his arm, burying his nose in Dave's sleeve.
"This is where the journey begins. This is just the start."
Something cracked nearby. A faint motion further down the street.
He tightened his grip on the pistol. Took his first step.
Ronny gave a soft meow. Not from fear. More like… agreement.
The city waited. Ruined. Dead. But in that deadness, something was alive.
Danger.Mystery.Answers.
A real adventure.
End of Chapter 3.