Night deepened in Heldale, cloaking the field festival in a blanket of glimmering lights and tired laughter. Students were beginning to wander away from the event center in pairs and small groups. Lanterns floated on strings above the town square, casting warm, flickering glows across the cobblestone paths.
But not all the lights were warm.
Some corners remained untouched by the festival — narrow alleys behind the food stalls, the dim space near the woods behind the school, and most notably, the old tool shed by the east fence, long abandoned.
That's where Officer Jay, a local patrol assigned by the mayor for the night, had gone to check. Someone had reported movement in that area. Probably just kids sneaking off to drink or make out.
That's what he told himself.
"Let's make this quick," he muttered, clicking on his flashlight.
The shed's door creaked open, half-rotted and hanging off one hinge. Inside, dust clung to the air, disturbed only by the faint drag of something heavy across the floorboards.
Jay froze.
There were footprints in the dust. Bare, uneven, leading deeper into the dark.
He drew his radio. "This is Patrol 3. I've got—"
The signal cut.
A hand cold and fast dragged him away.
The shed door slammed shut with a final, chilling thud.
Back at the mobile command unit parked near the Town Hall, police officers monitored the signal board.
The female police officer at another section of the town spoke into her comm.
"Dispatch to unit twelve. Patrol 3, do you copy?"
No reply.
Officer Lana spoke again. "Patrol 3? Respond. Your comm just dropped. Are you still at the east lot?"
No reply.
Another officer spoke behind her.
"Officer Lana, We just lost his signal. No movement on body cam either. It's gone dark".
Officer Lana sighed deeply and said""Send a team now. East perimeter. We don't want to make room for any errors or mistakes tonight".
"Yes Ma'am" The officer trudged out of the room.
Officers broke away from the command unit, their vehicles moving through the noisy streets bubbly with excitement and cheers, faces lit by concern instead. At the East lot, near the dumpsters, only the faint crackle of a discarded earpiece remained—flickering with a final, sharp burst of static… then nothing.