The cabin was finally finished.
Noah stepped back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting warm gold over the fresh logs and hand-built porch. It wasn’t perfect—some parts leaned a little too far left, and the windows were secondhand—but it was theirs. Every nail, every splinter, every squeaky floorboard. He and Eli had built it with their own hands. Their dad would've been proud.
“You sure we don’t need anything else?” Eli asked, tossing a duffel bag into the back of the dusty pickup.
“Nope. We’ve got canned food, running water, power from the panels, and enough coffee to survive an apocalypse,” Noah said, grinning.
Eli rolled his eyes. “I meant from the store, smart guy. I’m making the drive now.”
“Oh. Yeah, just the basics. Get bread. And maybe some real food that doesn't come out of a can.”
Eli gave a two-fingered salute and climbed into the truck. “Be back in an hour.”
The engine coughed to life and rumbled down the dirt road, disappearing into the trees. As the sound faded, Noah was hit with that rare, weird kind of silence—the kind you only get way out in the woods. No traffic. No voices. Just birds, wind, and the occasional creak of the new wood settling.
He stepped inside, the front door still needing a proper handle, and dropped onto the worn couch they’d dragged in two days ago. The cabin still smelled like sawdust and sweat, but it was starting to feel like home.
Noah kicked off his boots, grabbed the copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire from the table, and leaned back. He barely made it through two pages when something on the TV caught his eye. It had been on the whole time, low volume, stuck on a local news channel that hadn’t changed in hours. But now, something different played.
The words “Breaking News” flashed in red across the screen.
Noah reached for the remote and turned it up.
The reporter looked shaken, standing in front of a blown-out building downtown. Her voice was tense.
“…unconfirmed footage appears to show what witnesses are calling a ‘weaponized reptile’ involved in today’s attack—”
Then came the video.
It was grainy, recorded on a phone. Screams echoed as the camera jerked around, catching glimpses of the chaos. And then—clear as day—an alligator. Standing upright. Holding what looked like a pipe in one claw and a machete in the other. It roared and swung at a parked car, slicing into the door like it was made of paper.
Noah stared, confused.
“What the hell…” he muttered, squinting at the screen.
The reporter came back on, visibly shaken. “We’ll have more as this story develops. Authorities are advising everyone to stay indoors.”
Noah couldn’t help it—he laughed. “Okay. Right. Sure. A Rambo gator. That’s real believable.”
He grabbed the remote, shook his head, and turned the TV off.
Just some viral prank. Probably one of those dumb internet ARG things Eli always got sucked into.
Noah picked up his book again, ready to lose himself in dragons and magic, but his phone buzzed.
He glanced at it.
Eli.
He swiped to answer.
“What’s up? Forget the eggs?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Then, Eli’s voice came through, shaky and confused. “Noah… I just saw something. But it doesn't make sense.”
Noah sat up, the book slipping from his lap. “What are you talking about? What happened?”
Eli’s voice sounded even more frantic now. “I’m in town, about to get groceries But… I’m seeing things, or maybe I’m just losing it. There’s a—there’s a huge mess outside. People are running, screaming, and… wait, Noah, you’ve gotta help me. Something's attacking the city. It’s big, and it’s—it's—it's like a goddamn alligator with weapons.”
Noah froze, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”
“I don’t know what to think, man. I thought I was imagining it, but—” Eli cut off, breathing heavily. “I don’t know. It’s real. And it’s coming this way.”
Noah blinked, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t sure if Eli was playing some kind of joke. “Are you sure about this? You sure you didn’t just see some prank on TV or something?”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on,” Eli snapped, his voice cracking. “But this is real. I’m telling you, this isn’t a joke. You need to lock up, man. It’s coming.”
Noah’s grip tightened on the phone. Something wasn’t right. Was this some weird viral stunt? Or was it worse than that? “Where are you now? Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”
Eli didn’t respond right away. Then, with a quiet urgency, he whispered, “Noah… it’s here.”
The call cut off.
Noah’s heart pounded in his chest. The phone slipped from his grip as he stared at the screen. His hands felt cold, his mind racing. What the hell was going on?
He bolted toward the door, pulling it open. The sun was setting, but the world outside seemed unnaturally still. The only sounds were the rustling of the trees and the distant call of birds. But his gut told him something was wrong. Something was coming.
He darted back inside, grabbing his jacket. He needed to get to Eli. He knew the route by heart—the dirt road that wound through the trees, the little creek, the turn onto the main highway. But Eli had the truck, and walking or running to town would take at least twenty minutes, probably more.
He glanced at the phone again, his mind scrambling. The battery was low.
His eyes snapped to the clock on the wall. What the hell was he going to do?
Panic started to creep in, a feeling of helplessness spreading through his chest. He couldn’t just sit here and wait. Eli was in danger. He had to get to him.
But all he could do was pace, the minutes stretching out, the tension in the air thickening.
After what felt like hours of standing there, wrestling with his thoughts, Noah finally dragged himself back to the couch. He couldn't stand it—this silence, this feeling of being trapped.
His eyes fell back on the TV, the low volume now haunting in the empty room. He couldn't believe what he'd heard earlier. It didn't make sense. A weaponized alligator? Was it real? Was Eli freaking out over something dumb? It couldn’t be. It had to be something more, something worse.
Noah sighed and grabbed the remote again, flicking the TV back on. The news station was still running, but it was a different reporter now. This one stood in front of a police barricade, trying to sound calm but failing.
“We are receiving more reports of sightings of the creature, and it is indeed confirmed that there is some sort of—well, we’re calling it a ‘reptilian’—attacking buildings downtown. The authorities are doing everything they can to contain the situation. We advise everyone to stay indoors and avoid the city center at all costs.”
The camera switched to footage of the streets, this time from a much clearer angle. The streets were chaotic—cars abandoned, doors wide open, people running in every direction. Then, the camera zoomed in on the figure that had been terrorizing them.
It was the alligator. But it was far worse than what Noah had seen earlier. This thing was taller, its scales shimmering a dark, unnatural green. It was still holding the machete and pipe, but now there were others in the shot—more alligators, moving in the background, brandishing all sorts of weapons. The horror of it all felt too real.
Noah’s throat went dry. He couldn’t look away. Was this some insane joke, or was something much darker at play?
He turned up the volume. The reporter was still speaking, but Noah wasn’t listening. He couldn’t focus on anything else. He just kept staring at the screen.
It was real.
The camera zoomed out, showing a massive stretch of the city, and Noah caught sight of something else—something that made his blood run cold. A large truck was stopped in the middle of a street, its lights flashing wildly.
Noah’s heart skipped.
The truck was Eli’s.
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