11 p.m. that night.

  At a dimly lit intersection, two kids huddled together over the Book of Fate.

  “Seriously? The whole Boston area and there’s only one apprentice-level mission? Lame,” Aaron grumbled. “Though I guess compared to New York, it’s still a higher ratio. New York is like ten times bigger but it only has three missions anyway.”

  The group checked if there were any Fate Points nearby and found one in Lawrence, a city over twenty miles north of Boston.

  “Must be because that market’s close by. Anything that happens will get handled right away,” Acher said.

  When they arrived at the Fate Point, they realized what kind of place it was.

  “A grocery store?” Aaron blinked. “Looks pretty new too… like it just opened recently.”

  Not far ahead stood a Market Basket: a wide, empty parking lot, a huge sign, and pristine red brick walls.

  It was late; the lot was deserted except for a single black sedan-truck parked near the entrance. Beside it stood a middle-aged man, a young woman, and an old man talking together.

  “What on earth is going on?” Robert Callahan’s brows pulled together in tension.

  He had just come back from visiting family in New Orleans, only to be greeted with the news that his store manager, Melissa Carter, and his security guard, Frank D’Amato, were both taking extended leave.

  Robert swore under his breath while trying not to show his irritation. He had poured a ton of money and effort into this supermarket, and the two people in front of him were his most dedicated employees.

  “I hope you can understand,” Melissa said. “My husband just got a broken leg. I need to stay home and take care of him for a while.”

  Robert’s frown deepened. He turned to Frank:

  “And you?”

  “You know how my knee’s been,” the old guard said. “It’s gotten a lot worse. I saw a doctor last week… they said I need surgery as soon as possible.”

  Robert folded his arms, sharp eyes flicking between the two. He stared at Melissa and Frank, then let out a dry, cynical laugh.

  “Sure, sounds reasonable. Sick husband, bad knee. But Stacy already told me she saw both of you the other night in the back hallway staring toward the warehouse corridor for a solid ten minutes… and then you both freaked out and bolted like the devil was chasing you. That knee of yours looked pretty damn fine then, Frank.”

  Melissa turned a shade paler, fingers twisted together. Frank looked away and cleared his throat.

  “I’ll ask one more time,” Robert said, voice low and heavy with threat. “What the hell happened while I was gone?”

  Silence fell. The night wind swept through the trees at the edge of the parking lot, rustling like something unseen creeping closer.

  At last, Melissa bit her lip and spoke, her voice trembling:

  “Boss… I swear, we hardly believe it ourselves. At first, it was just snacks disappearing: chips, candy, instant noodles. I figured some customer was being sticky-fingered, or someone sneaked in after hours. But then fresh meat from the freezer started going missing. I swear I locked the cold storage tight, triple-checked!, but the next morning it would be wide open, thawed meat bleeding out in puddles all over the place. You can’t imagine what that looked like. At first I thought I’d messed up… but the very next night it happened again. I even took pictures of the lock just to be sure.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “So we’re talking about a thief? Did you check the cameras?” Robert asked.

  “We did. The first night, nothing. But the other night the camera… it caught something else.”

  Robert narrowed his eyes. “Something else?”

  Melissa pulled out her phone and opened the security app.

  “Here. See for yourself. We saved the footage.”

  Robert shot her a glare, then leaned in to look. The screen flickered grainy black and white footage from the surveillance camera…

  The footage showed the back hallway outside the cold storage room, dimly lit and still.

  All of a sudden, a hoarse roar blasted through the audio, the mic screeching with static. Stacks of snack boxes began trembling, then vanished off the shelves as if something invisible had swallowed them whole. A moment later, the freezer door swung open by itself. Packages of chicken wings and pork ribs flew out in all directions. Wet chewing sounds echoed through the hall… but nothing was visible eating them.

  Robert clenched his teeth. Melissa hugged her arms tight, goosebumps prickling across her skin.

  Frank continued, voice heavy:

  “You know, I’ve been a security guard for decades. I’ve dealt with thieves, punks, and even drug addicts. But this…” He swallowed hard. “…this ain’t human. That night, I brought my hound Rick with me. He’s a tough dog and mean as hell, but the second we stepped into the lot, he started whining, tail tucked, and just dragged me away like the place was cursed. I swear to God, I’ve never seen Rick scared like that.”

  Melissa nodded and said:

  “I heard something like hissing through the gap in the door, then banging inside the freezer. I thought the cooling system was broken, but the next morning, a whole case of chicken wings was gone. Not a trace. No forced locks. No footprints. Nothing.”

  Robert leaned back against the truck, fingers interlaced, silent for a long moment. Sweat dotted his forehead, though he tried to sound calm:

  “So you’re all quitting because of fear? Just abandoning the supermarket I built from scratch?”

  “What else am I supposed to do? You want me to fistfight a demon?” Frank shook his head. “You should call a priest, Bob.”

  “That’s enough,” Robert snapped. “I don’t believe in ghosts. But I do believe something is messing with my store, and I’m going to see it with my own eyes and teach it a lesson. Tonight, I’m staying here. You two want to run, be my guest. I’ll watch the place myself.”

  He opened the truck and came back out holding a shotgun. Melissa flinched.

  Frank tried to stop him:

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Bob. A gun might not do a damn thing.”

  “Quit with the superstition. Whatever this thing is, it’ll respect a bullet,” Robert huffed.

  Frank let out a long sigh. Worry clouded his eyes, but he still said:

  “Fine. I’ll stay with you tonight. Two people’s better than one anyway.”

  “Thanks, Frank. I owe you for this.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it payback for when you helped me after that stroke,” Frank muttered. Then he turned to Melissa. “You go home first. I’ll text you every thirty minutes. If I stop texting for more than an hour, call the police. Tell them there’s a break-in; don’t mention ghosts.”

  “What would the police even do?” Melissa’s voice shook.

  “At least there’d be someone else here to help.”

  “…Alright,” she nodded. “Please be careful. If anything happens, just run, okay? I’ll be praying for both of you.”

  Robert glanced at them with a steely look. “No prayers needed. Tonight we’ll find out what we’re dealing with.”

  The flickering LED sign above cast long, shaky shadows of the three across the ground, swaying as the wind whispered through the glass doors.

  Once Melissa left, Robert and Frank entered the empty supermarket. It was spacious and spotless, barely a year since its grand opening. Thanks to the prime location near a shopping district, it was always busy during the day.

  Now, aisle after aisle of well-lined products stood silent, and only two men remained inside the whole building.

  “I still think this is a terrible idea,” Frank grumbled.

  Robert exhaled.

  “Just tonight. I can’t just abandon my business like that. Hopefully it’s just a bear or something.”

  “What kind of bear sneaks in and unlocks a steel freezer door? Look, if we see it, shoot first. If that doesn’t work? We run,” Frank said.

  “Fine. Even ghosts should be scared of my guns,” Robert answered.

  Frank rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out.

  Robert made two cups of thick, dark coffee and slid one loaded with sugar and creamer over to Frank. The old man took a sip, muttering,

  “Thanks.”

  They sat in the control room, eyes glued to the cameras. Minutes crawled by until it was well past midnight.

  Clack.

  A faint noise made Robert jump. His eyes scanned each camera feed until they stopped at the one showing the left hallway, the one leading to the freezer storage.

  His hair stood on end. The heavy steel door, supposed to be locked tight, was now easing open on its own.

  “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Frank whispered, barely audible.