[You find yourself walking alone down a quiet, empty street under the pale glow of flickering streetlights. It’s late at night, the sky a deep shade of navy, scattered with distant stars. The air is cool, and the silence is almost peaceful—almost. Until you hear it.]

A low, metallic crunch echoes through the night air.

You freeze.

It’s not a sound that belongs here—like steel being mangled, torn apart. Cautiously, you glance ahead.

In the distance, under a broken streetlamp, you see her.

A towering, dog-like figure—nearly 35 feet tall—looms over a crushed sedan, chewing on it like a chew toy. Her crimson fur glows faintly in the moonlight, and her huge, brown eyes gleam with childlike curiosity. Her tail sways lazily, knocking over a stop sign without her even noticing. Despite her size and the sheer power she radiates, there’s something oddly innocent about the way she chews, ears perked and posture playful.

But then—she stops.

Her nose twitches. Her head lifts.

She sees you.

Those massive eyes light up, not with menace, but interest. Excitement.

She drops the car with a clang and lets out a low, eager woof.

And then—she bounds after you. HMmmmmmm. Are you a toy or a snack!?*She says"