November 29, 2024
The air in the parking lot was sharp, biting through layers of fleece and polyester as Gloria and Sam pitched their nylon cocoon, hunkering down inside their tent. Thanksgiving Day had given way to a bitter, starlit Colorado night, the kind that sinks into your bones and makes you question every decision that led you to this moment. But as Gloria reminded Sam for the third time, it was worth it. A 95-inch LCD TV for $499. The math wasn’t just in the savings—it was in the bragging rights. Fifth in line. They were practically guaranteed to score one.
Inside the tent, they lay side by side, scrolling through their phones, chuckling at memes that felt warmer than their sleeping bags. Thanksgiving wasn’t about family for them; it hadn’t been for years. It was about the hunt. Gloria could already picture the massive TV dominating their living room, a monument to their consumer conquest.
By midnight, the parking lot was a patchwork of tents and weary whispers, the chatter of kindred bargain-hunters fading into the hum of distant highway traffic. Sam yawned. “One night. That’s all it takes.”
“Totally worth it,” Gloria agreed, pulling the sleeping bag tight around her chin.
Then came the scream.
It was high, sharp, and close—too close. Sam shot up, heart hammering, his breath clouding the air. Gloria clutched his arm. Outside, the lot was stirring. Tent zippers buzzed like angry insects as heads poked out, wide-eyed and searching. The noise seemed to have come from somewhere in the line, but no one could pinpoint it. A few nervous jokes. A laugh that didn’t quite land. The campers slowly retreated to their tents, brushing off the scream as some prank.
But Sam couldn’t shake it. “It sounded real,” he whispered.
Gloria, scrolling again to calm herself, shrugged. “People do dumb stuff.”
By 2 a.m., sleep was just within reach when it happened again—this time, two screams, overlapping. One male, one female. The male’s voice bled pain; the female’s dripped pure terror. Sam threw open the zipper, the cold air stinging his face. Other tents disgorged their occupants, shivering and wide-eyed.
“I’ll check,” Sam volunteered, his voice steadier than he felt.
Gloria grabbed his arm. “Don’t. It’s not safe.”
He kissed her hand. “It’s just a joke. Or someone’s drunk.”
But as Sam moved down the line, his flashlight revealed something that chilled him deeper than the November frost: two tents, empty. Sleeping bags still laid out, snacks and phones abandoned. No footprints. No signs of departure. Just…gone.
“What the hell,” Sam whispered, backing away.
Another scream. This one farther out, fading into the void. A second later, closer—too close. A shadow passed overhead, blotting out the stars. Then another. Wings, impossibly wide, the leathery membrane glinting under the fluorescent parking lot lights.
“Look!” someone shouted, pointing skyward.
The shape descended, talons catching a young woman mid-run. She screamed, limbs flailing as the creature hoisted her into the sky. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some broke for their cars, but escape wasn’t an option. Two more winged beasts swooped down, snatching would-be runners like ragdolls.
Sam stood frozen, his mind trying to make sense of the surreal. “Gloria!” he shouted, sprinting back to their tent. She was still inside, trembling.
“They’re taking people,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “We’re next.”
The sound of sirens offered a sliver of hope. Two patrol cars screeched into the lot, lights strobing red and blue. The officers emerged, guns drawn, shouting commands.
And then the beasts descended.
One officer managed a few shots before a winged figure plucked him off the ground. His partner didn’t even get that far. The creatures tore through them like paper dolls, leaving nothing but screams and blood mist.
Panic erupted. A man in another tent suggested a desperate plan: rush the police cars en masse. Sam latched onto it, the illusion of control enough to propel him forward. Gloria refused. “We’ll die out there!” she pleaded.
“I’ll come back for you!” Sam promised, squeezing her hand before bolting.
The sprint to the cruiser was a blur of adrenaline and terror. Sam dove inside with two others, slamming the doors shut as talons scraped against the metal roof. Breathless, he stared back at the chaos. One by one, tents were torn open, their occupants dragged screaming into the dark.
Sam had to get to Gloria. He started the car, headlights cutting through the carnage. But when he reached their tent, she wouldn’t move. She was curled in a ball, paralyzed by fear. “Gloria, we have to go!”
Behind them, the other police car roared to life—one of the men inside had taken off. He didn’t make it far. Two creatures landed on the roof, ripping the car apart like foil, dragging the driver into the night.
Sam hoisted Gloria into his arms, running toward the store. The automatic doors were locked, but he banged until a clerk inside hesitantly approached. “We’re not open yet,” the man said, voice dripping with apathy.
“There are…things out here! Let us in!” Sam screamed, pounding harder.
Reluctantly, the clerk unlocked the door, and Sam stumbled inside, Gloria clinging to him. “Lock it! Lock it!” he yelled, the creatures now circling like vultures.
The clerk did as asked but showed no sign of fear. He adjusted his vest, staring at Sam with a tired smile. “You should’ve stayed home.”
“What the hell is going on?” Sam demanded.
The clerk sighed, glancing at his watch. “Thirteen years. That’s how long we’ve been dealing with this. Turns out, this place? Built on a Hellmouth. Demons would show up, ruin sales, you know, bad for business. So corporate struck a deal. One night a year, they take what they want. Keeps ’em off our backs the rest of the time.”
“You’re feeding people to those things?” Sam’s voice cracked with disbelief.
“Not just people,” the clerk corrected. “Greedy people. They like that flavor. The more desperate, the better.”
Sam backed away, Gloria sobbing in his arms. “We’re not going back out there.”
The clerk shrugged, pulling out his clipboard. “You don’t have a choice. Part of the deal. You and your wife? You’re this year’s doorbusters.”
The door locks clicked open. The clerk nodded toward the parking lot. The beasts were waiting.
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