It’s surprisingly quiet.

No sirens, no crowd. Just lonely, desolate streets. The city has never been so mute. I can even hear my feet slapping the sidewalk.

The sun has abandoned us. A few weak stars are pasted onto the deep black sky.

An alley cat’s purr erupts from the shadows. Besides that, it is completely quiet. Too quiet.

I shove my hands into my pockets and walk hastily. As much as I enjoy the change of volume, a sprinkle of nervousness beats with my heart.

At first, my footsteps are the only ones I hear. Then, light footsteps, traveling at a slightly quicker pace, accompany my own.

Curiously, I swivel my head towards the source of the noise.

I see no one.

You’re just hearing things, Manny, I tell myself. My sudden uneasiness must have triggered my mind to play tricks on me. Besides, the footsteps have ceased now. Relieved, I shrug off the uncomfortable feeling and trudge onward. Just a few more blocks until my street.

Following my fourth step, the light footsteps commence again.

But this time, they’re faster. It’s almost like they’re running to catch up to me. To attack me.

Without looking back, I begin to sprint.

I don’t know if the footsteps are pursuing me anymore, because the sound of blood crashing against my eardrums prevents me from hearing much else. I feel something loosen from my pocket and clatter onto the ground. It’s my cell phone.

Everything stops as my feet skid against the sidewalk and come to a halt. As I bend down to pick up the phone, I see small feet level with my head. I peer upward to see the source of the light, pattering footsteps.

The boy looks aged and old, even though he must only be seven. Dirt is smeared on his face and clothes. Wrinkles and rips scatter across the rags he wears as clothes. But his eyes are what gets me the most.

They’re yellow.

Thousands of questions massage my mind.

Who is this boy, and why has he been following me? Does he need a place to sleep for the night and wants me to host him?  I wonder as I squint warily at him.

I force the cell phone into my pocket and rise to my feet.

His eyes are tranquil, but they’re watching me. Waiting for me.

“Hi,” is the only word that finally escapes my lips. The forced air I sucked in from running burned my lungs, therefore, it comes out as a miserable rasp.

The boy doesn’t respond. He’s looking me straight in the eye.

“I know you’re probably shy, but if food is what you want I will give it to you. Um, you only need to ask, uh, otherwise I won’t know what you want. So yeah…I think ---” But something stops me mid-sentence. It’s the boy’s yellow eyes. Only the pupils were yellow before.

Now the whole eye is yellow.

Finally, the boy speaks. The voice sounds like that of a robot. His eyes twinkle menacingly as he whispers, “Come, Manny. We know you have answers for us. Either way, you will be dead. But our way will provide you with more time. Manny…we’re waiting.”

I barely have time to be frightened.

A black coating of scales crusts over his once normal skin as he extends his hand towards me and clutches my neck.