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Summary
He glances around. Maybe there was another biker, or a wild animal? But there was nothing but trees and the road, no matter how much he strained his eyes to pierce through the night. What little light the sliver of moon provided disappeared. The bike’s headlamp flickered.
Something was very, very wrong. That’s a fact ingrained into his very existence. Instincts leftover from when his ancestors were nothing more than animals gripped his chest. Eyes dart back and forth, searching for danger. He needed to find it, to figure out what was scaring him so bad, but there was nothing. No movement beyond the trees, no snarls filling the air like Eret described in the campaign. There weren’t even…
Crickets.
No crickets were chirping.
Or; L'manburg is a quiet town, but when the youngest Watson goes missing, those around him are going to find out that quiet does not mean safe. And things are never as simple as they appear.
Or, or; I watched the new season of stranger things and got brainrot.