“Make sure to grab some insulated bags sold not far from the freezers, and ice!” Nox quickly said, causing Mike and Tylor to give him a grateful nod.

  Once separated, Nox led Nataly toward the pharmacy section, though she hardly needed his guidance—the tall sign was easy to spot even across the cavernous store.

  As they moved, Nox’s mind spun. Prednisolone—definitely. Enough corticosteroids to last a few weeks, maybe longer, just in case. Stronger painkillers too, for when the flare-ups hit hard. Some anti-inflammatory gels, creams for the inevitable sores. Kenalog in Orabase... maybe Bonjela. Corsodyl mouthwash to prevent infection. Something lighter, too, in case the stronger meds ran out earlier than expected.

  Then, from the corner of his eye—something shifted.

  A smear of deep-brown smoke slithered between the shelves, tendrils curling like fingers. It clung to the periphery of his vision, always just slipping out of full sight. Nox’s gut twisted. His eyes darted around, searching for others—but the spider’s massive smoky shape still hung above the freezer section. Alone. No others.

  ‘Should I separate from Nataly? Confront it?’ His heart hammered against his ribs. His hand tightened on the cart handle until his knuckles whitened. The thing felt wrong. It didn’t just follow—it watched, patient and calculating.

  “What’s wrong?” Nataly asked, her voice cutting through the thick fog of his thoughts.

  “Nothing,” Nox replied quickly, forcing a smile. It barely reached his eyes.

  Nataly hesitated, her fingers tightening around the cart’s handle. She scanned his face, searching for cracks in the mask, but found none—only that strained smile. Frowning slightly, she brushed it off.

  'Probably just nerves', she told herself. That creature lurking nearby would unnerve anyone.

  She wasn't wrong.

  But she didn’t know how close the danger truly was.

  As they neared the pharmacy, Nox sped up. Nataly matched his pace effortlessly, cart wheels rattling quietly behind them. Near the counter, he abandoned the cart and slipped into the separate room where the medications were stored.

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  A sterile, medicinal scent filled his nostrils, clinging to the cool air. His instincts screamed that this was a trap—tight walls, one exit, nowhere to run, he didn't count the fire escape since he wasn't sure if it was unlocked. A perfect hunting ground.

  Still, he moved quickly, scanning shelves, searching for anything familiar. His memories painted a ghostly overlay of the pharmacy worker’s movements—her hands grabbing boxes just there, turning just so.

  Not far behind, Nataly busied herself with gauze, antiseptics, and painkillers. Yet every few moments, her gaze flickered to Nox. She watched the way he combed through the shelves, her brow furrowing. All those boxes, all those labels—her gut twisted. She couldn’t see anything wrong with him. But something gnawed at her.

  ‘Hopefully it’s mild,’ she thought grimly.

  Her fingers hesitated over a bottle of cough syrup before moving on, faster now. She began grabbing more essentials: asthma inhalers, antihistamines, anti-nausea meds—things people at the shelters might desperately need.

  A new resolve hardened inside her. She couldn’t protect everyone, but she could at least be prepared.

  What would happen when the medicine ran out?

  She shoved the thought aside. No. Focus on now.

  Nox returned, cart nearly full.

  “Grab everything else you need from here,” he said, his voice low but steady. “We’ll use my cart to fill on non-perishable items after that.”

  Nataly blinked. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll keep watch,” Nox said, his hand briefly brushing the wall for balance. His breath hitched before he forced it steady. “If I say so—close the door. Take the fire escape inside. Don't look back.”

  His brave face cracked at the edges.

  Nataly’s heart skipped. She fumbled for her radio.

  “Everything okay on your end?” she snapped into it.

  “Nothing changed here,” Emily’s voice crackled in reply.

  “Nox was right,” Mike chimed in, lighter.

  “That thing… while creepy, just wants to open all the freezer doors,” Tylor added with a chuckle.

  “Even the ones we just closed,” Mike said. His voice sounded relaxed, almost amused.

  “We’re almost done here,” Nataly answered, forcing her voice steady. “We’ll grab some non-perishables too.”

  “Any signs of the dashing monster?” Mike asked.

  “Not yet,” Nox spoke into the radio.

  But his eyes said otherwise.

  Because he saw it—lurking behind a shelf. Thick smoky tendrils curling along the floor.

  It was waiting.

  Nox’s breath caught. A cold sweat trickled down his spine. His gaze darted, hunting for signs of another monster—maybe the spider would help, maybe competition between predators would buy them time.

  But there was only silence.

  Only one.

  A grim thought wormed its way into Nox’s mind, almost funny in its terror:

  The spider stayed high, a silent snare above. Passive. Patient.

  This one moved on the ground. Silent. Stalking. Lethal.

  This one was the true predator.

  His hand trembled, invisible to everyone but himself.

  He could almost hear it breathing.