Walter, a college dropout, moved to Nashville to make some money. If he saved up enough, maybe he could go back and be with his sister in college, just like the two of them always planned. He found what he was looking for at the diner: a shift with...
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The walk back to his apartment was the worst walk of his life. Every step he took felt dangerous because he needed to look ahead. He wanted to spin his head in every direction, but there were too many people on the sidewalks. It was the biggest city in Tennessee after all. He looked into the eyes of every person he passed, checking for those haunting yellow eyes. Thankfully, he didn't see them. The spaces between the shoulders in the crowd make perfect windows for... it. And every out-of-focus face was a great opportunity for his mind to play tricks. Would the yellow fangs reappear? Would the dark scales be just around the corner? On the couple of occasions he did spin around, he saw more people, more eyes, but none that were yellow. No scale-covered, demon-looking entity waiting for him. He even checked across the street; there was nothing like that thing out there. Every time he spun his head, he was spinning so fast the cigarette almost flung out his mouth, but it never did. He'd look to his right, looking in the reflection. It widened his range of view; thankfully, nothing. Just him and the people passing by.
It's just in your head. It's all in your head. There's nothing there, he kept telling himself.
The pharmacy store windows were bright and didn't do any good. But the abandoned building on the corner without any lights inside worked like magic. He got a great look at everything his point of view was missing. His eyes could only do so much; he wanted to turn his head more and more to see further behind him, but he didn't want to look like his head was on a swivel. His head wasn't, but his mind was. As he got closer to Broadway, more people appeared. The sidewalks got even busier. The thicker crowd of people was a better veil of protection than the lone sidewalks outside the diner. His apartment was getting closer.
Thank God, he thought.
Were the sidewalks of Broadway safer than his apartment? He looked up at his window five stories above. The last time he was there, he saw that thing. Would it be there waiting on him again? He didn't pray much, but he did pray that his room in the apartment building wasn't going to be as haunting as it was before his shift.
No, I can't, he thought. Home didn't feel like home anymore. In less than twenty-four hours, he couldn't stand to be in that living room again. He looked at the signs on Broadway. Bars. He didn't feel like sitting in neon ambiance at a counter with dark corners. A diner with bright windows would do the trick. He needed conversation to distract him, and he was no stranger to talking to someone new. It just took a drink or two.
Nan, he thought. Surely she's almost home by now... but she'd think I was calling her for a date. I'm not trying to lead the woman on, but... if nothing else it's a good dinner for the both of us.
He walked three streets over; his calves were getting almost as tired as his eyes scanning the street for a pay phone. He tapped a man on the shoulder.
"Is there a pay phone around here?"
"Well, yeah, there's one by that shop at the end there." The man didn't even look up at him. He pointed down the street, never moving his eyes from the newspaper. The headline on the second page flipped back:
