The Screech Without Light

Six friends slip into a derelict WWII rail station to sleep in a buried bunker while rain drowns the park above. Sometime after midnight, a fence screams, soft bare steps pass over their heads, and no light ever touches the stairs. Morning brings a seventh trail of footprints—bare, deliberate—beginning and ending at the bunker mouth. What followed them home wasn’t a person. It might not even have been the night.