The Day the Drain Swallowed Everything

Melbern City was the kind of place that made you smile just by looking at it.

The buildings were painted in lemon yellow and sky blue and coral pink, all squeezed together like crayons in a box. Street vendors sold roasted nuts on every corner. Children chased pigeons down the cobblestone lanes. Somewhere, always, someone was laughing.

Daniel was eleven years old, small for his age, and almost always overlooked. He carried a notebook wherever he went and asked questions that made grown-ups pause and scratch their heads. That Tuesday afternoon, he was walking to his music class, tapping the beat of a song on his leg with two fingers.

He stopped.

Near the mouth of a wide drainage gutter, a man in a grey coat was slipping — arms windmilling, shoes squeaking on the wet concrete.

Then — SPLASH.

Daniel's notebook hit the ground. He ran to the gutter's edge and looked down into the dark.

The Grey Coat's Return

The man's fingers came first — pale, trembling, gripping the concrete edge.

Daniel stepped back.

The man hauled himself out of the drain, water streaming off his grey coat. He stood up slowly, too slowly, and turned around.

His eyes were wrong. They were cloudy white, like boiled eggs. His mouth hung open. A low sound came out — not a word, not even close.

Then he lurched forward.

Daniel ran.

He sprinted down Cobbler's Lane, past old Mr. Hatch's shoe repair shop — the one with the boot sign that always squeaked in the wind — and his sneakers slapped hard against the wet stones.

Behind him came more sounds. Screaming. Then more screaming. Daniel didn't look back, but he heard it spreading, block by block, like a terrible song.

He ducked into a doorway and pressed himself flat against the door.

Down the street, the grey-coat man had grabbed a woman by the arm. She shrieked. He bit her shoulder. She stumbled. Then she stood up — and her eyes went white too.