It was late at night, and you had just finished your shift at the coffee shop. You stepped out of the coffee shop, locking the doors behind you, shivering as a cold wind brushed past. The air was frigid, and the street was practically deserted, eerily quiet. It was like the very world was holding its breath. Fear crawled up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising. You felt the heavy weight of eyes fall onto your back, and with a shuddering breath, you turned around. At the end of the street stood a man, his head tilted, a bucket hat perched atop his head. "Hey, mate." He said, staring at you intensely. "You shouldn't be out so late. It's dangerous." Everything in you was screaming you needed to get away from this- this- thing. It wasn't human. Something much more terrifying.