With a strange gait, a man walked down the deserted street, a black plastic bag dangling from his hand. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting his shadow in long, distorted shapes on the pavement. His steps were uneven, dragging just a little too slowly, as if one leg wasn't quite in sync with the other. The bag bumped softly against his knee with every step.
It looked like trash. It sounded like trash. But it didn't smell like it.
The scent rising from the bag wasn't plastic or sour waste. It was thicker, metallic, clinging to the air like fog. It smelled of raw meat. It smelled of blood.
The man paused near an alleyway, glancing around slowly. His face, half hidden by the collar of his worn coat, twisted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
A faint growl caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw a thin stray dog, ribs showing beneath its dirty fur, creeping from the shadows. Its eyes were cautious, but its nose was working overtime. It smelled the contents of the man's bag too.
"Come here, little doggy," the man said, his voice syrupy and low. His smile widened, exposing yellowed teeth. "Are you hungry?"
He crouched, reaching into the bag without a hint of hesitation. His gloved hand emerged holding a slab of dark, dripping meat. He waved it slightly.
The dog barked softly but took a few hesitant steps forward.
"Shh," the man whispered. "You'll wake the neighbors."
He placed the meat on the ground. The dog sniffed the air again, looked up at him, then lunged forward and devoured it. It tore into the flesh with desperation, growling between bites.
"You like it?" the man said, chuckling. "I've got more, you know. Plenty more."
He pulled out another chunk, tossing it toward the animal. The dog didn't hesitate this time. It devoured the second piece, then the third, faster than the first, as if it hadn't eaten in weeks.
When the meat was gone, the dog barked again, louder now, stepping back and growling. Its eyes were no longer begging. They were confused. Frantic. As if something wasn't right.
The man's face changed. His smile faded into a cold, blank stare.
"Quiet," he said softly. "That's not polite."
But the dog barked again, sharp and loud, echoing through the street. The man clenched his jaw and stood up straight, scanning the buildings.
From one of the balconies above, a light flicked on.
Inside the apartment, a twelve-year-old boy stirred. He rubbed his eyes, blinking in the dim light.
"Mom?" he whispered.
His mother's voice came from the kitchen. "What is it?"
"I think I hear a dog. Barking like crazy."
"Go take a look if you're that curious."
Jacob padded over to the balcony in his socks, peeking through the iron railing. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the man below, glaring at the barking dog with a look that could melt bone.
Jacob wasn't just any boy. He was sharp. Too sharp for his age. He loved animals more than most people, and he had an entire gallery on his phone filled with stray cats and dogs he had photographed. It was a hobby. An obsession.
He raised his phone now, trying to capture the scene.
Unfortunately, he was a few seconds too late.
The dog suddenly turned and bolted into the shadows, as if sensing something worse than hunger.
"Is that his dog or what?" Jacob muttered, hitting record anyway, hoping he caught something useful.
From below, the man's voice was barely audible.
"Your turn will come soon," he said quietly to no one in particular.
Jacob frowned, heart pounding just a little faster. He rewound the video to watch it again. The angle was off, and he didn't get a clear view of the meat or the man's face, but the way the dog reacted—that stuck with him.
He played it again.
And again.
Something about it wasn't right.
Why would a starving dog bark after eating?
Why would it run?
Jacob sat at his desk, replaying the video over and over. He zoomed in on the man's face, but the resolution wasn't clear. Still, something about him... something about the way he moved... it was wrong. Off-balance. Inhuman.
That night, Jacob couldn't sleep. He tried to distract himself with homework, but every time he looked at the screen, his thoughts returned to the man with the bag. To the meat. To the dog's growl. He started searching online: "Why would a dog bark after eating?" "Dog runs after being fed." "Stray dogs afraid of humans?"
Most of the articles were useless.
But a few strange videos popped up. Footage of dogs acting erratically around certain people. Speculation about smells that only animals could detect. Some claimed dogs had a sixth sense, that they could feel evil.
It wasn't much. But it was enough to make Jacob sit back in his chair and mutter, "I got it."
His voice startled even himself. He jumped to his feet.
His mother rushed into the room, wide-eyed. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Jacob was so excited he didn't hear her. He was pacing the room, pointing at his phone.
"Jacob!" she shouted again.
He stopped, blinking. "Sorry, Mom. I just figured something out."
She sighed. "You scared me to death. I thought something bad happened."
He hugged her tightly. "I'm fine. I promise."
She smiled, ruffling his hair. "Okay, detective. Come downstairs and eat dinner before it gets cold."
"I will in a minute," he said, turning back to his laptop.
He started typing out a caption for the video, ready to post it online. But halfway through, his fingers froze above the keyboard.
"What if they say the same thing I'm thinking?" he whispered. "What if no one believes it... or worse, what if someone does?"
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen.
Jacob was smart. Smart enough to know when something was bigger than him. And this—whatever it was—felt dangerous. The man didn't look that old, maybe in his thirties or forties, but the way he moved, the way he stared, it unsettled him.
What if he wasn't just feeding a dog?
What if he was testing something?
Jacob closed the video.
He didn't post it.
Not because he was afraid of being wrong.
But because deep down, a part of him believed he was right.
And that was more terrifying than anything.