The street felt way too still today. Like it was holding its breath, waiting for something big to come down. Aaron slowed up right around where his shoes started scraping against cracked pavement, the sound echoing—sharp and loud—in the silence. You know how those noises get when everything else just goes quiet, all of a sudden. No kidding, man.
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At the very end of the road, a wooden house sat, pretending it wasn’t up to anything. Moss crawled over its walls in thick patches. Its windows stared out, hollowed and empty, like eye sockets in a skull. Aaron wasn’t the sort to believe in signs, not really. But even he had to admit the air felt off—a weird, heavy mix of rust and soggy dirt that wasn’t just regular quiet day stuff. Nah. This was bigger.
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It felt like whatever had been waiting—years, maybe decades—had finally picked today to kick things off for real.
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