Ted's phone buzzed, and his shoulders slumped. He killed the alarm. Like he needed reminding of the impending apocalypse of another stupid night shift.

  "Come for a drink," Nathan said, grinning with the innocent cheer of a man whose tuition was paid for them.

  Ted forced out a smile that committed to nothing. Guess they were back to this old dance. “Not tonight. You guys go ahead.”

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed. Even under the dim street lighting, it was clear not tonight wasn't passing muster anymore. “Come on, man. None of us even need to sneak in anymore!”

  Ted glanced at Nathan's friends hovering nearby, decked out in ripped jeans and hoodies that threatened to smother them. One of the girls tapped their spotless white trainers against the sidewalk. Why wouldn’t Nathan let it go already?

  Just one drink. Ted bit his lip. Hadn’t he earned a nice, relaxing drink, just this once?

  He swallowed hard. Was that the same pull his mother felt?

  No. No, he wouldn’t wallow in her misery, not when pulling free was within his grasp. If he stumbled, there wouldn’t be anyone to bail him out. Never had been, never would be.

  It was better that way. Cleaner. No illusions.

  Nathan shuffled closer. “You wouldn’t have to buy anything all night," he whispered, skittishly glancing over his shoulder. "We’d cover you, man.”

  Ted shook his head. He’d earned his place off his own back. He didn’t need charity. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before Nathan looked away. His friend over there resumed tapping her perfectly white trainers against the ground.

  Did he even care? Or was it just another of those little lies people tell themselves to make the world that tiny bit more tolerable?

  Whatever. It wouldn't matter in a few months.

  Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright. But you should come sometime.”

  “I will.” They both knew he wouldn't.

  Nathan slunk away, hunched over like he wasn’t going to forget all about Ted five minutes—if that—into his night out.

  Were they friends? Hard to tell. It would be easier if they weren’t. The next stage of the plan was all lined up—a job on the West Coast, with a salary that dwarfed the peanuts the warehouse gig paid.

  Still, had to admire Nathan’s determination. Maybe this was his version of a struggle. It wasn’t like he’d had to overcome anything real his entire life.

  Ted set off, and that crushing ball of tightness flared in his chest again. While they drank themselves silly, he’d be stuck obeying the orders of the PDA strapped to his wrist.

  He cut through the back alleys, past rusted fire escapes and the same broken liquor bottles that lingered day after day. Nothing new here, there never was—not that anyone would want to see, anyway.

  An icy chill bit at his face and ears. He picked up the pace and zipped up his leather jacket. Thank god the latest repair had held. Winter evidently wasn't finished with them yet.

  The street lamps—those that worked, anyway—cast long shadows into the grim urban jungle. It was a rough neighborhood. The kind where it was all too easy to imagine a mugger around every corner.

  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, crying out for someone to try it. Every flicker in the shadows was a promise, the possibility of something, anything, happening.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Did other people do that? He bit at his lip. A psychiatrist would have a field day with him. Not that he wanted one, or could afford one if he had. Probably needed one, considering, but hey, screw that.

  It was easy to be mad at his mother. But Dad? Ted growled and picked up the pace, his nails biting into his palms, his muscles crying out for a target to punch.

  He checked his phone. The screen blared the time at him through hairline cracks. His teeth clenched together and he shoved the phone back into his pocket. It was fine. Even with that heart-to-heart with Nathan, he still had time to make his shift.

  A rustle to the right cut through the quiet. His heart skipped a beat, and his gaze darted to the source.

  A brick wall, graffitied with a stupid cartoon cat. Nothing else. Whatever had moved was gone, a shadow passing through the night.

  Ted forced out a laugh. Maybe there was a mugger. Maybe this was it.

  Maybe he should have gone for that drink after all.

  Metal clattered behind him. He spun around, and the darkness fled in the corner of his vision again. There it was, the source of the commotion—a chain-link fence clattering in the wind.

  Except there was no wind.

  A chill raced through him. His jaw clenched and he fell completely silent, still as the dead. His senses fired into overdrive, delivering their reports with frantic haste.

  A police siren wailing in the distance. The scent of urine splashed against the wall. Discarded cigarette butts and water-logged cardboard. All those things he tried so hard to ignore, now reassuringly familiar.

  But something had to have made that noise. He frowned. He couldn’t have imagined it. Could he?

  Darkness flashed again, just inside his vision, and a chill ran down his spine.

  No. He wasn’t going crazy.

  He pressed his lips together and swallowed. For once in his life, that certainty was anything but reassuring. Whoever—or whatever—was out there, it was stealthy, and it was fast.

  Why, oh why, hadn’t he hit the gym when he had the chance? A knot twisted in his chest. The cost-benefit analysis hadn’t worked out. Too much money, too much time, not enough benefit. At least, that’s what he’d thought.

  He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t in peak physical condition either. It didn’t matter—it was too late to do anything about that. All that mattered now was survival.

  Adrenaline surged, and he broke into a sprint. He had plans, and they didn't involve getting shanked in some dingy back alley.

  He stole a glance over his shoulder, and the shadow slithered across the edge of his vision, slinking away before his eyes could settle upon it. Calling it a shadow didn’t do it justice—it was a void that sucked the light right out of the surrounding air.

  He shook his head. Light didn’t work that way—darkness was merely the absence of photons—but that didn’t change what he saw.

  What the hell was chasing him?

  His footsteps thundered against the concrete. Another glance over his shoulder. Nothing there. Had he lost it?

  His lungs burned. Every muscle in his legs begged and screamed for him to stop.

  Not yet. He had to be sure.

  Whatever was chasing him sent icy stabs into his chest. Metaphorical stabs—and he planned to keep it that way.

  Pain burning in his thighs, but he kept going. Just a little further, he pleaded to his legs. He'd take better care of himself in future. Even consider joining the gym.

  Assuming he had a future. A mugging gone wrong wouldn’t even make the headlines. He didn’t need to imagine what his obituary might say.

  A bit of a loner, his friend Nathan last saw him refusing to come out for a drink, just like the last twenty times he’d been asked. “If he’d come for a drink, just one drink, he’d still be alive.”

  Even running for his life, Ted snorted. It would be an ironic death, at least.

  Another glance over his shoulder. Still nothing there.

  His heart screamed and threatened to explode. This would have to be enough.

  He dived down a narrow street. The dim orange glow of the streetlights had never been such a welcome sight. Even the flickering of the one at the end was like greeting an old friend—not really wanted, but better than the alternative.

  Another light flickered. And another, and another, and another. Every light down the entire street flickered, their reassurance turning to menace as they flashed faster and faster.

  Their strobing light illuminated—or rather, didn’t—pockets of darkness, fleeting shadows growing in number. The hairs down Ted’s arms tingled, and a weight crushed down upon his chest.

  Bent over, panting furiously, he tried to still his racing mind. What the hell had he done to deserve this?

  The shadows swirled around him, completely surrounding him. He couldn’t hide from it, couldn’t outrun it. No, there was only one option left.

  His fists balled up, and he dropped into a wide, stable stance, as if that would help against a physical impossibility. Suppressed rage surged to the surface, frantically searching for something to hit.

  “Come and get me!”

  The bellowed words died unceremoniously in the icy air.

  As you wish. The thought forced its way into his head, fully formed and not his own.

  Ted’s eyes bulged and his jaw fell open, but it was too late to say anything. The ring of darkness collapsed and blackness beyond black consumed him.

  Another sentence pushed its way to the forefront of his mind. It was warmer than the previous intrusion, more internal, almost like seeing for the first time.

  Quest received: Save your father, save the world.