Jemma and Charles weaved through the heart of Comic-Con, their senses alive with the buzz of neon lights, distant cheers, and the scent of fried food hanging in the air. Cosplayers brushed past them in elaborate armor and silk capes, laughter echoed from panel rooms, and the murmur of thousands of fans filled the space like a living machine.
For the twins, the event held significance beyond simple escapism. They’d gathered enough footage, interviews, and exclusives to propel their YouTube channel to new heights. Though they both knew they needed something more.
“This is perfect,” Charles said, adjusting his camera’s rig. “We’ve got enough content here for a week, from a small section.”
Jemma grinned. “Let’s find that keynote panel Gregory mentioned. If the whispers swirling around the mystery startup are true, it’s going to skyrocket.”
After sharing a nod, they exited the show floor, heading for a corridor reserved for the staff alone. The lights were dimmer here, as if they strived to extinguish the convention’s din. When they rounded a corner, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered, casting long shadows that shifted with every step. But a sign at the far end of the hall promised they were heading toward their destination.
A strange figure stepped into their path. A tall, thin, and impeccably dressed man stood before them in a full butler uniform, complete with white gloves and a silver tray balanced on one hand. Crystal glasses sparkled with golden liquid as the bubbles drifted up in the dim light. Without moving his lips, the man’s voice sliced through the hall with a crisp British accent. “Would either of you care for a refreshment?”
Jemma slowed, her brow furrowing as she glanced at her brother. “No, we’re not looking for a drink. Thank you, sir.”
The butler narrowed his eyes as he tilted his head, as if trying to look through them. With a nod, he turned, movements precise and unnatural, before disappearing around the corner.
Charles grabbed Jemma’s arm and pulled her close. “Did the butler creep you out, too?”
“Are you kidding me?” Jemma scanned the now-empty hallway before resuming her march. “Let’s just find the panel.”
They continued forward until a wall appeared in front of them. After a frantic search, they found no doors, just smooth walls, unbroken and uncaring.
“What’s happening?” Charles muttered. He turned and froze.
The butler had returned, though this time he didn’t have his tray. Folding his hands in front of his chest, he asked, “Can I do anything else for the two of you?”
Jemma’s grip tightened on Charles’s sleeve. Something in his tone chilled the air between them. His fingers threaded together with a fluid, boneless precision no human should possess.
“We’re good,” Charles said, eying the eerie butler. “Just heading back to the floor.”
But when they moved, the butler stepped forward. His arms shot out, blocking their path with inhuman stiffness. The grin returned. His lips peeled back, revealing teeth that had been filed to razored points. “Please,” he said, voice now a gravelly rasp. “Feel free to run. I do so enjoy the chase.”
With a wet tearing sound, his body began to shift. His shoulders bulged, his spine cracked as he grew taller and broader. The seams of his uniform burst apart. Fingers stretched into hooked talons that clacked against the floor as he fell. His jaw split wider than it should, revealing layers of jagged teeth and a tongue that lolled like a predator tasting the air. He crouched, limbs flowing into place with that same eerie precision. A second later, the monster pounced.
Jemma screamed. They dropped as the creature sailed overhead, its claws gouging twin grooves into the walls. It landed like a lithe feline and spun on elongated limbs, locking one black eye on each sibling. “Run for me.”
They ran. Fear lit their veins like fire. The hallway blurred past. Behind them, that terrible voice counted. “One… two… three…”
They burst back into the convention hall, yet everything was wrong. The booths stood without motion in absolute silence. No crowd, no noise, nothing but aisles of merchandise and lifeless mascots. The world was frozen, hollow, and lifeless.
Jemma grabbed her brother’s arm. “Where is everyone!?”
Charles scanned the room. “There’s the exit. Run!”
They sprinted toward the glowing sign. Upon reaching the exit, Charles slammed into the bar, but it didn’t budge. “We’re locked in!”
“You die,” the gravelly voice said from behind them.
They turned as the creature shimmered into view across the floor. In an instant, it vanished, then reappeared between them and a red fire box mounted on the wall. Charles’s eyes locked onto the axe inside it. As he bolted, the creature lunged. Its claws tore into Jemma’s shoulder, pinning her to the wall as her shriek of agony filled the arena.
Charles punched through the case, glass biting deep as he grabbed the axe. Behind him, the creature raked its talons down Jemma’s thigh, slicing flesh. With a roar, Charles charged. He brought the weapon down with all his fury. The blade hit its mark and sliced through the monster as if it were wet parchment. The body collapsed in two twitching halves. Its claws tore free of Jemma’s shoulder, drawing a fresh cry from her lips.
Charles dropped the axe and caught her, holding her upright as he pressed against the bleeding wounds. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
A hand grasped his shoulder. “Is she alright?”
Charles spun to see a wide-eyed security guard. Behind him, a growing crowd stared in stunned silence. “We were attacked,” Charles said, breath ragged. “The thing wasn’t… human.”
The guard swallowed hard, glancing at the monster’s body. “Help’s on the way.”
“Thank you,” Jemma whispered, leaning into her brother while medics pushed through the stunned crowd. Charles risked another glance at the entity who’d pursued them. The creature’s halves were already dissolving, bubbling into a pale, quivering sludge that hissed against the concrete.