Julian could hear them—scraping, clawing, tearing.
The raptors were trying to get in.
Their talons screeched against the metal plates of the outer wall, desperate and violent.
"Too dumb to use a door at least", he told himself.
But that didn't stop the chill crawling up his spine.
The noise stopped.
Julian held his breath.
Then came the cries—sharp, shrill howls echoing across the camp. The kind of sound that made your body tense before your mind even processed the danger. He could hear them calling out to one another… gathering.
His first instinct was to let the veterans handle it. The trained ones who knew where to guard.
But something clawed at the back of his mind—a gut feeling he couldn't shake.
They weren't leaving, they were planning.
He gritted his teeth and turned toward the source of the sound, rifle in one hand, torch in the other. His legs moved before he could talk himself out of it.
The gate.
The shrieks had come from the direction of the main gate.
Julian sprinted.
As he rounded the last corner, his torchlight cast flickering shadows over the entryway.
Arther stood near the center, breathing hard, sweat gleaming on his brow. He had stacked crates and metal sheets in front of the door—makeshift barricades to brace the impact.
Bang!
Something slammed against the gate from the outside.
"Boy, what the hell are you doing here?!" Arther barked, his voice raw from shouting.
Julian skidded to a stop, his chest heaving.
"Go back to your station! Tell the other kid to stay put. These bastards—these raptors—they don't quit! They'll circle the damn place all night if they have to and find a weakness in the walls!"
"Alright, alright!" Julian shouted back, nodding.
But his feet didn't move.
His mind did.
Something still felt wrong.
He turned and ran—not back to his post, but toward the last place he'd seen Charlie.
"Don't be an idiot, man…" he muttered under his breath.
"But why does this feeling this way?!" He then recalled Charlie earlier and how he had spoken to someone.
Julian reached Charlie's little bunker, expecting the big guy to be hiding inside.
But the door was cracked open. No light. No sign of Charlie.
"Where did that fool go?"
Julian muttered under his breath and hurried back toward the area they were assigned to watch. That's when he spotted something off in the distance—a faint glow. A torch. On the ground.
He froze for a second, instincts kicking in.
He checked his rifle again—loaded and ready. Well, as ready as an old bolt-action gun could be. The first shot would matter. After that… it'd come down to luck and speed.
Keeping low, Julian moved toward the dropped torch. He waved his own light slowly, trying to see through the dark. That's when he saw two silhouettes.
Charlie's height was unmistakable.
And standing beside him—was that… Mrs. Suzi?
Julian rushed closer, relief and confusion battling in his head.
"Charlie! Don't just drop your torch like that, man. We're already in trouble for leaving our posts." Julian handed him his own torch. "Here. Take it and escort Mrs. Suzi back to the restrooms. Then grab your gun and get back to me. We still have to keep watch."
Charlie opened his mouth to explain, but a loud crash echoed nearby.
Then—a scream. Someone shouting in horror.
Julian's face went pale.
"Go—quick! Get to the restrooms and lock yourselves inside!" he barked, pushing both of them toward the stalls. "With the smell of those stalls, the raptors might not even notice you."
Then he turned and sprinted toward the noise.
Julian ran toward the source of the commotion, rifle in one hand and torch in the other.
He pushed himself harder, breath sharp in his lungs.
Then—he stopped.
Up ahead, barely illuminated by a break in the clouds, was a moving shape.
For a moment, moonlight spilled through the sky.
And in that flickering silver light…
Julian saw it.
"What in the…"
The figure wasn't human. Its skin shimmered—slick and scaly, like polished obsidian stretched over muscle. And beneath it… someone was pinned.
"Damn it!"
Julian raised the rifle, but couldn't get a clear enough shot.
Without thinking, he hurled the torch.
The fire spun through the air—once, twice, three times—before landing just ahead of the creature.
The flames flared up.
And now, Julian could see the raptor clearly—its narrow eyes locked on the fire like it was a rival trying to steal its food and snarled.
Julian didn't hesitate.
Bang!
The shot rang out across the compound.
The raptor shrieked in pain.
"KreeeEEE!"—and staggered, jerking violently as blood spilled from its side.
A spent shell clinked to the ground.
Julian's heart pounded, but he was already reaching for another round.
He fumbled the reload—his hands shaking, sweat dripping down his neck. The creature staggered, one leg buckling beneath it.
But Julian didn't stop.
He shoved another bullet into the chamber, fingers trembling.
There might be more. Or this one might not be dead yet.
The boy glanced up.
In the brief moment when the clouds parted and moonlight spilled over the clearing, he caught a glimpse of the creature.
The flame flared.
Illuminated in the flickering glow stood the raptor, tense and alert, its head shifting from side to side as it tried to determine what had struck it. It didn't make a sound. It only crouched lower, guarding its kill.
A sound escaped its throat—not a growl, but something lower, stranger. A call. Not for him, but to someone else.
Julian froze.
He remembered the documentaries and movies—raptors, these creatures they never hunted alone.
The teen's eyes scanned the darkness for movement.
Nothing.
No rustling, no clicks, no shapes darting between the narrow streets within the enclave.
Still, he didn't trust his senses, these were top predators.
The wounded raptor hadn't moved again. It was breathing heavily now, dark blood leaking into the ground beneath it. The body under its claws was long dead.
Julian clenched his teeth.
He stepped forward—one, two paces.
He wanted the torch back. More than that, he wanted to be sure no other raptors were sneaking up on him while he was fixated on this one.
The raptor let out another grunt, weaker than before.
Julian reached the torch.
Two meters away now.
He knelt, picked up the torch while waving it around him carefully, never taking his eyes wander off the injured beast for long.
It didn't move, It didn't make a noise.
It slumped in pain while looking at Julian.
Julian stood still, heart pounding.
This wasn't over.
That call before had meant something.
There could be more.
No, there should be more.
Raptors were pack hunters.
He tightened his grip on the rifle, turning slowly as he listened to the still night and waited for a few seconds.
Then he spotted it, another figure who tried to sneak near, if it wasn't because of a reflection of a distant light he wouldn't have caught sight of it.
Julian picked up his gun and like before tossed the touch to the side, just far enough to extend his vision a little.