Excerpt 

 Maya walked home, keeping to the main road. Even if her path did intersect with a few alleys, those cross points were brightened by three-globe street lamps. With the lack of traffic and city sounds, surrounded by old buildings and cobbled sidewalks, it was easy to imagine herself in Charlotte Hode’s era.

“Ugn…”

The groan prickled the hair on the back of her neck. She froze at the mouth of an alley, primed for flight. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“Who’s there?”

The croak came again, sluggish and low, the unmistakable sound of someone in pain. Maybe it was some stupid kid playing a game.

“This isn’t funny.”

“H-h-help.”

Her stomach lurched to her throat. If someone really was hurt and she did nothing, she’d never forgive herself. It was a passing motorist who’d called for help when her car had careened off the road.

Cautious, she inched closer to the mouth of the cutaway. The illumination from the nearest street lamp only carried a few feet, barely edging into the dark maw. “Is someone there?” Slipping her hand into her pocket, she felt for her cell phone. One call to 911 would bring help or keep her safe if the situation deteriorated. A few steps more and she could discern a man slumped against the side of a building.

“Sir, are you hurt?” God help her if he was drunk. She kept a safe distance, and activated the flashlight on her phone.

The man shifted, angling toward her. He groaned. Something large loomed up behind him, a shadow rising from the ground. It took Maya a moment to realize the thing had been squatting there all along, silent in the nightscape—a monstrosity shrouded in black with a pulpy head and eyes that burned white cinders.

She screamed.

The creature ran, deft as a whistle of air, swallowed by the bloated shadows of the alley.