City of the Roving Carriers
The rain fell relentlessly, turning the pavement slick and green as the city of Blackwater rumbled with its usual rhythm. At night, the lingering scent of damp earth mingled with the acrid odour of diesel, a bitter scent that filled the alleyways and filigreed through the air. Lila Holloway wrapped her coat tighter around herself as she walked home from her late shift at the café, her shoes splashing through puddles that glistened like black mirrors.
Rumours had begun to circulate in the city about a darkness that had emerged from the underbelly of Blackwater, a creature that skulked through its shadows. It was said to be the embodiment of lost souls, fattening itself on the very essence of fear. Lila dismissed these tales as mere pub talk, but the unease gnawing at her gut was hard to ignore.
As she rounded a corner, her heart jolted at the sight of a thick trail of what appeared to be bodily fluid smeared across the pavement. It glistened ominously in the streetlight, and for a moment, she was frozen in place. But soon she pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a picture, convincing herself it was simply a stray animal that had met its end there, a quiet accident in a city that rarely noticed every life it engulfed.
Later that evening as Lila scrolled through social media, she noticed post after post from locals detailing the same fear. Puddles of strange liquid had appeared in various parts of the city, and sightings of a “horrible creature” had caused panic. Some claimed to have seen a limping figure with too many limbs, moving with dreadful speed in the twilit streets.
Dismissing the notion that there was anything truly rogue lurking about, Lila shut her laptop and went to bed. Yet, the next morning came all too soon when her phone buzzed violently. It was a text from Becca, her best friend and flatmate: Did you hear? Their dog—Lola—went missing. I’m worried.
Lila’s stomach twisted. She checked online and found news of missing pets spreading like a virus. One after another, owners reported their beloved companions disappearing, last seen on walks in the nearby parks. At first, the police claimed it was a coyote problem, but whispers had already grown into shouts of a cursed presence roaming Blackwater.
That evening, armed with the residue of last night’s fear, Lila planned an excursion to the local park where many of the pets had vanished. As dusk fell, an orange-tinged smear stretched across the skyline, but Lila felt a prick of determination. She had taken enough of the city’s dark pulse into her veins; this time, she’d confront it.
Joining her was Marcus, a co-worker who wanted to help ease Lila’s tension. They discussed the latest missing-person reports as they strolled through the emerging night. The park was scarcely lit, the shadows of branches bending towards them like grasping fingers. The two laughed nervously but were put on edge by the echoing silence hanging over the park.
Suddenly, Lila stumbled upon a mound of fur, tangled and matted within a tuft of weeds. It was a collar, blackened and twisted, with the name ‘Rex’ still faintly visible. Her breaths became quick and shallow as a darkness tightened its grip around her. They were not alone.
From the underbrush, a sound emerged, soft at first, but building into a low, guttural rumble, almost like a growl. The air crackled, and Lila sensed something powerful lurking just out of view. She turned to Marcus, their fear palpable, and he nodded, a silent agreement to retreat.
As they hurried back toward the path, Lila spotted movement at the edge of her vision. She turned too quickly, barely catching a glimpse of a lithe figure slipping silently between the trees, hunched and elongated. It froze for a heartbeat, and so did she. A pair of unnatural eyes glimmered in the fading light, reflecting the last of the sun like two cold orbs. Then, it was gone.
Gasping, Lila stumbled, and Marcus caught her arm. “What was that?” he whispered, his voice taut with dread.
“I don’t know. We should leave,” she replied, her skin prickling as the the sensation of something chasing them settled over her like a shroud.
They hurried toward the main exit when a chilling, shrill howl pierced the air behind them. Lila risked a glance back, and in the gloom, they caught a brief sight of it—spindly and twisted, towering above the ground on thin legs that moved with a deceitful grace. Its mouth opened, revealing glistening teeth like shards of glass, and with a fleeting motion, it lunged toward them.
The creature was clearly unlike anything Lila had heard of, yet it was utterly more fearless than any folklore had prepared. They sprinted, heartbeats hammering in time with their frantic footsteps. As they neared the exit, Marcus let out a cry.
“It’s got me! Lila, help!” He was on the ground, wrists clasped in the thing’s vice-like grip, while it dragged him toward the shadows, calling forth jolts of horror and desperation within Lila’s mind.
Gripped by panic, she remembered something she had heard just that morning—a whisper of a charm that could repel it if she could summon the courage. “Marcus!” she cried, “Stay still! I can’t—”
But the moment she turned, the air thickened. There was a pulsating heaviness around Lila as if time had splintered. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small silver coin, one she’d borrowed from her grandmother, etched with an arcane symbol she hardly understood.
“Kneel!” she yelled, unsure if her command would even reach him. Yet, somehow, he found the presence of mind and obeyed. Lila pressed the coin to her forehead and spoke the words she’ve heard countless times as a child.
From the depths of the trees came a screech, an anguished wail, as Marcus tumbled free, the base of the creature’s claws shredding the air, and Lila surged forward, yanking him up. They fled the park, rushing into the street where the sickly glow of streetlamps offered a moment of safety.
It took days before the uneasiness subsided. Newspapers reported the creature’s sighting, local pets returned from the brink, and the city collectively sighed in relief, burying the horror beneath a bulwark of mundane tasks.
But something remained lost in that park: a dread that intermingled with the panic of the lost. Lila had watched her friend nearly taken—half an hour they had fought through their panic alone. They had narrowly escaped what had once roamed the heart of Blackwater.
Weeks later, laying awake in her bed, Lila heard the weeping of mournful howls drifting through the night, their imprints singing of a hunger yet unsated. The city had moved on, but the monsters had embedded themselves deeper than the asphalt; their scent clung to every crevice, lacing the air with fear. And Lila couldn’t shake the notion that it was watching, waiting for the next delusion of safety to crumble within the city of the roving carriers.
