It was 25 minutes before the clock hit midnight, and the streets of the Bronx were mostly empty. A few cars drove by every now and then, and some homeless men slept on the cold ground of the sidewalks because the shelters were full for the night.
The weather was freezing, and the heavy silence made the area feel even colder and lonelier.
Well, it wasn't fully quiet though as a sound broke that stillness. when someone was trying hard to breathe, making a wet, whistling noise as he fought for air to stay alive.
The man was trying to crawl away from someone, or rather, something, because the thing following him did not seem human at all.
As he dragged himself along the ground, he left behind a massive trail of blood. Some of it was his, but the rest belonged to his friends who died before him. They were all lying dead behind the monster, who kept walking forward slowly while reloading its gun.
