Warning Signs

(Elena's POV)

Pale gray morning light filters through the clinic windows, providing the perfect illumination for the morning. I'm back at the Crescent Bay Veterinary Clinic, my fingers wrapped around a coffee cup, trying to shake the exhaustion that's sunk deep into my bones.

Last night doesn't really seem to have happened. A giant bleeding dog in an alley, its silver eyes set on me as if he could read my mind, and now he's stretched out on a heap of blankets in my living room. I keep reliving how he looked at me. Like he knew something. Even though it's strange to feel, I feel like he was a person.

But I can't dwell on that part. It's obviously not true. But its whole calmness, even when I tended to the wounds, was unreal. I need an explanation for it. Something normal.

The clinic hums with the usual sounds of morning: machines whirring to life, paws shuffling in cages, and the soft quiet sounds made by the animals. I lean against the counter, sipping the bitter coffee, as I remind myself of how happy I am doing what I love.

Luna's already here, perched behind the front desk like a caffeine-fueled gargoyle. Her purple-streaked hair bounces with every animated keystroke. She's probably toggling between patient records and her dating app.

"Morning, Dr. Voss," she says with a grin. "You look like you wrestled a bear and lost."

I smile. "Long shift, and... I found a stray. Big one."

She grins. "Is he cute? Like adoptably cute? Or one of those scary ones you secretly fall in love with?"

I focus on organizing the supply drawers, hoping she doesn't see the hesitation in my face. "Big. Black. Injured. He's at my house for now. I'll bring him in later for a proper examination."

She raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Not yet.

The lights overhead flicker. A sharp buzz fills the room, then fades. I freeze, clutching the edge of the counter tightly with my fingers. That's the third time this week. This place has always had sketchy wiring, but this feels worse.

"Creepy," Luna remarks, glancing over her monitor. "You think it's the ghost of that cranky chihuahua we had to put down last month?"

I roll my eyes. "Wiring. I'll get the electrician to come check tomorrow."

But as I turn away from the cabinet, there's a low vibration through the floor. It vibrates through my feet and into my spine. It's not the machines. It vanishes as quickly as it came, leaving me clueless about what it could be.

"Feel that?" Luna asks, her voice softer now. She's no longer joking. Her hands are still on the keyboard, but not moving.

"Just the building settling," I answer back. My voice isn't quite as steady as it sounds.

I walk into the kennels. The elderly Siamese curls up and relaxes. But the rest of the animals are wide-eyed and alert. A tabby with a broken leg presses against the back of her enclosure. A rabbit thumps once and remains silent. Their ears perk. They are alert like they see something I don't see.

I look back at Luna. She is standing now, arms crossed, no sign of her usual playfulness.

"That was weird," she says. "Like, horror-movie weird."

I'm about to respond when there's a slow tapping starting. Rhythmic. Scraping at the back door.

My heart skips a beat. That door opens up onto the alley. The same alley where I found him.

I tell myself it's a raccoon or maybe a branch moving in the breeze. But the memory of those neat, deep cuts on the dog's flank flashes through my head. Fear runs through me immediately.

"Luna, you just stay here," I instruct her. I try to sound firm, but I can hear the tremble in my voice.

"No way. I'm not letting you walk into that horror cliché alone."

She follows me, close on my heels, and I'm glad she did, even though I don't admit it.

We reach the door, the tapping stops, but the silence that replaces it is heavier than the noise.

I take a breath, then open the door.

The alleyway is empty. Fog creeps around the corners, thick against the dumpster. Nothing moves. No sound. Just that same thick quiet.

"See? Nothing," I tell her, though the tightness in my own throat betrays me.

I turn to go back inside, but Luna grabs my arm.

"Look," she says, pointing toward the ground.

Faint scratches, but very obvious. Curving lines slice into wet pavement. Shallow and precise. Too clean to be any animal's claw marks. Too deliberate to be an accident.

My blood turns to ice.

"Okay, that's not normal," she breathes. Her normal bravado is absent.

I kneel, brushing my fingers over the marks. They're cold. Not just from the climate. There's something not right about them. As though they don't belong here.

I pull back my hand.

"We should go inside," I say quickly.

She doesn't argue. We move back through the door, close it behind us, and stay quiet.

The animals are now making no noise at all. All tense.

I try to keep my mind busy with prep for the day's appointments. Charts, syringes, IV packs. Anything to keep my mind off things. But my hands keep shaking.

Luna watches me.

"You're freaked out," she says quietly. "What's going on, Elena?"

I want to tell her. About the dog. His eyes. The weight of that gaze. The impossible things. But the words are trapped behind my teeth.

"It's just a weird morning," I say at last.

She recognizes that I'm lying. I can see it in the way she holds my gaze before nodding and getting back to her desk.

I return to the kennels. Check Whiskers' IV. Adjust the heating pad. My hands move automatically, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

I glance at the vacant crate. The one I'd planned on bringing the dog to.

Shadow.

Even in my head, how the name just came feels strange. Not quite right.

I'm unable to shake those silver eyes. The way he looked at me, not like a pet, but like a person. Like he was waiting for something from me.

The lights flicker again. A quick buzz. Then that hum returns. Low and faint.

I look up.

Luna stares at the ceiling, frozen.

"Faulty wiring," I said, even though the words feel lifeless.

She doesn't respond. Just stares.

And I realize something. This is not going to end. Whatever it is. It's here now. And it's not simply about a dog in an alley.

Something else is happening.

And I don't know what it is, or even how to make it stop.