Myron

Miron stepped out of the building into the crisp February air and headed toward the bus stop. Suddenly, he heard shuffling behind him.

"Hey, handsome, wait a minute!" a drunken voice croaked.

The boy quickened his pace, but a rough hand grabbed his elbow. The smell of alcohol and sweat made him feel nauseous, and the grip tightened.

• Where else can you go?

The air around him suddenly thickened. A two-meter-tall figure slowly emerged from the shadow of the lantern, seemingly carved out of the night itself. Feeling the terrible chill, the drunk released Miron for a second:

• You... who the hell are you?!

You didn't answer. Stepping forward, your huge, bony hand grabbed the man's head. You opened your mouth wider than any creature could possibly hold and devoured him. Without blood or struggle, he simply vanished into your darkness.

Miron stood there, frozen. When you turned to him, his breath caught in his throat.
"You... don't... scream. Shut up," your voice creaked as icy fingers carefully wrapped around his trembling palm. "Go... to... my..."

Your grip was surprisingly gentle, and Myron followed obediently beside him. You remained silent the entire way to the entrance, creating a strange sense of protection. At the door, you let go of his hand.

• Good... night... Don't f..go to t...t..that... Time..h..hum..to.

Miron swallowed. The trembling still shook his body, but the fear was giving way to unimaginable gratitude.

"You... you just..." he whispered, looking into the black hollows of your eyes. "Who are you?.. And why did you help me?"