THE ERA OF TERROR

Night had settled heavily over the city's outskirts, pressing down like a shroud, with only the occasional streetlamp casting patches of pale, flickering light. The trees loomed tall and silent, their branches swaying in the faint wind as if whispering secrets. But tonight, there was something darker in the air, an unnatural chill that sent a shiver through those still awake, like a warning best left unspoken. No one could have known it, but the air was thick with the scent of blood to come.

A low growl echoed through the trees, sharp and insistent, and the first to hear it was a lone man hurrying home along the deserted road, his footsteps quickening as he heard the unsettling sound. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide, but saw only shadows stretching across the pavement. He clutched his bag tightly and picked up his pace, his breaths coming fast, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with a primal sense of danger.