Agent Rico, the head of the 24th division of "Internet," is stuck in a room with his pet fish Laurel and forced to go through other agents' accounts of what they face in the strange and unbelievable world. From monsters eating people in the snow, vi...
My head whipped to the side so fast I almost cracked my neck. There's no one behind me., No one's around the car, then BANG! My calf tightens as I brace myself for impact. There is none. The noise was the guy in the car banging on his window and shouting.
GUY IN SUIT
Get away from my car now!
Am I going crazy, but it feels so real. Wait, there's someone across the lot. They're small, probably a kid, and they need to get out of this.
GRANT
Kid! What are you doing out here alone?
Are your parents in one of these cars?
The kid doesn't respond. It's too dark to get a good look at them. It gets harder to move as I feel the temperature continue to drop. The wind blows harder as I can hear my bus shake. Still, I must keep moving. A kid shouldn't be out here all alone.
GRANT
Kid! You need to get out of this-
I stop walking when the kid turns to me. I need to stop saying kid because whatever is staring at me isn't some lost child. It is small and has a humanoid shape, but it's not human. I couldn't tell in the dark, I thought my eyes were hazy from waking up, but I can see it clearly now.
GRANT
...Storm.
Its body is made of pitch-black clouds. Its eyes are two small holes. Little bright white lights are floating in there. Small lighting crackles light up parts of its body as sparks shoot out. Small chunks of ice float from a floating around orbiting its round head. Its mouth is filled with sharp icicles, the same kind that form long talon nails. Below its feet, the asphalt is frozen.
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The soft, mumbling voice from before, I hear it all around me; it's not alone.
MANY
You're here. You're here. You're here.
You're here. You're here. You're here.
I turn, and they have already surrounded me. They crawl out from under the cars, the shadows between streetlamps, and the darkest area of my peripheral vision. They stand are cars, freezing the roofs, but the people inside look fine. Some are crouching right in view of the driver's seat, but no one bats an eye, just me.
