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The only thing that Evan was holding in his hands was an aluminum baseball bat with the words "Louisville Slugger" written along the sides. It was the best thing he saw to use as some sort of weapon, and at the time he had been focusing far more on running away than meticulously looking for an object that he could use to defend himself.

The lights were out, which didn't surprise him. The lights were out in a good deal of places. The generators that powered the old warehouse were just as old as it was. Without somebody there to turn them on in the morning, they would stay as dark as if they were never even made. There was no sound but his own footsteps and nothing else around that would be making sound as well. The place was old. Dusty would be an understatement of how the large building was at first glance. It was only used to store objects in shipping boxes and other packaged goods until they were able to be loaded into the docks and from there the ships at the harbor.

While normally he would have been able to hear the horns of ships as they came and went, the chimes of bells, the cry of gulls, the calls of people there loading things up and taking them away...but it was deathly silent now. Paired with the darkness, Evan found himself relying on his knowledge of where things were out of experience just as much as he was relying on his sight in the low light. It was barely lit enough in moonlight, plus a few old lights scattered about that were hooked up to another spare generator.

Every tiny sound made him look over, every little crack or tick or scratch would set him on edge. He made his way slowly through the long rows of boxes , stepping carefully and lightly as he went as to make no sound at all. His destination was the office, where the spare keys were kept to the small fishing boat that he worked on fishing off the coast. He needed to get on the boat, and then he could get to sea, and from there...

He spun about wildly in silence at a sound behind him, the sound of a little shuffle of something, which could have been feet, a piece of paper...anything. He turned back and found his way forwards; the small "EXIT" sign above the far east door his target. He dare not walk about outside, where he was in the open, for fear he would be seen by anything. The door to the office was next to the exit, and he reached it after many minutes of careful treading about. He opened the door, which thankfully had been left unlocked by people he had earlier that week chastised for leaving it just that way. He went inside.

The office was tiny. There was only one door, which he entered in. There was s desk, some paper, a computer, which was dead, and the keys of a few tugs that were hanging in a small box on the wall, locked up. Even took out the key from his pocket, careful not to jingle the rings and the metal. He unlocked the lock, opened the box, and saw the key to his boat, the Madison, and took it quietly.

Without noticing it, he didn't realize that force of habit caused him to close the box and lock it back up with his keys.

He walked out back to the door, putting a hand on the handle to swing it wider for him to walk through again. He gently put the boat keys in his left pocket, his other keys in his right. As he slid down his keys into his right pocket, his finger made an unexpected slip.

Evan dropped the aluminum bat on the stone floor.

Before the thing hit the floor, he tensed up, reaching for the thing in vain in an attempt to grab it out of the air in the darkness. It hit the floor with a loud ringing clang, which echoed loudly through the entire warehouse building and out the doors. The echoes would have been heard easily, but they were covered up by another sound that had just as quickly been heard by Evan there.

A small series of loud growls and screams suddenly erupted from the darkness, inside the warehouse where he has just carefully walked through. He panicked softly to himself, cursing under his breath as he looked for a place to hide. He left the bat to lay there and slowly hid underneath the desk and tucked in his legs and his tail behind him, getting in the darkest part of the shadows as he could.

He heard a series of footsteps, running, sprinting madly to him in the small office. He held his breath, and the forty-year-old cougar found himself getting teary eyed with terror. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes to avoid any glare from them. He steadied his breathing and grew calm as he could, knowing that disaster was inevitable if he were to make more noise.

The sprinting sounds grew louder and louder until he heard them stop and slow down, feeling the sound of bare nails on the stone ground as he barely opened his eyes in the dark space to look out at what had come to the site of the loud noise in the night.

Then he heard the moan.

The sound that would pierce the bravest man's stalwart heart...it was the moaning that was the scariest, most terrifying thing of all. The sound of the bloody mouth, the red stained teeth, the knowledge that death was perhaps only moments away. It was a gargling and rough sound. It was like a soft scream. It was like a shot in the silence. It was the most horrible thing imaginable. Evan closed his eyes back as he heard the awful sound and heard the footsteps move in closer...and closer...and closer...

...until they stopped. Even opened his eyes and say a pair of legs a foot away from his face, their owner standing right in front of him. There was a sudden eerie silence, and Evan opened his mouth widely so that his breath could not be heard. The legs shuffled and the bare paws on the nard stone floor dragged lazily a bit as the panting of the creature's breath made Evan shiver to himself. He lay there as still as he could possibly lay. The darkness hid his body from the thing that stood by the table, and while it ran inside...it slowly turned about, it's long feline tail swaying eerily as it turned and shuffled back outwards.

As it walked away, Evan waited patiently until he could hear it no more, his heart pounding over his near-death experience, and slowly reached out his hand to grab the baseball bat where it had fallen next to the chair.

He stood up and then looked about. Seeing nothing dangerous, he patted his pocket to make sure that the keys to the boat were still there, and then began to slowly sneak out of the room and towards the pier where the boat was moored. He made his way out the large doors there and then slipped outside where no lights shone other than the moon. He could hear the water lapping against the side of the docks and the metallic echo as it softly hit against the sides of the boats that were still in the water. He looked about, not knowing where the boat was parked exactly, looking at the feint outlines of the masts, deck, and the bow as he stood still.

He recognized the ship about thirty yards away, and then looked about carefully, and he took a step forward, bat firmly in hand.

He hadn't taken but that one step when he heard a soft moan behind him, and he turned about quickly with a sudden jump as his body shook in surprise.

He sw a faint figure's shape behind him, and it was clearly leaning to the side, standing lazily on it's left leg, giving out a soft but clearly audible moan as it rasped for air, wheezing through it's parched and dry lungs. It reached out with a hand for Evan, but he quickly took a step back and the thing's hands swiped at the air in front of him.

Evan took a firm hold of his bat in his strong hands and then made a mighty swing at the figure's head.

The bat made contact and recoiled back in the air as it struck the thing's head, sending it to the ground with a loud crack of bone. Evan could hear liquid hit the pavement before the figure itself fell to the hard ground with a loud cry. As it cried out, Evan heard another few similar moans around him, who had been unaware he was even there at all. They were alarmed at the sound, and had turned towards him and walked closer.

He ran.

Fast as he possible could, Evan sprinted towards the boat, knocking aside one of the foul creatures on his way as he dropped the bat behind him and made towards the dock. His sleek black cougar body sprinted quickly towards the Madison and when he arrived at the side of it, he didn't even take the time to look behind him. He leapt aboard the boat, quickly tumbling over the side of it and getting inside the cabin, climbing up the ladder. He heard the moans behind him, struggling to get aboard the boat.

Evan hard a few splashes of water as some of them slipped and fell into the water below and struggled in the water before falling downwards under the water. He heard the crash of a body on the deck as one made it aboard, he himself just now fiddling out the keys from his pocket and fitting them into the ignition for the boat, turning it and starting up the engine, which thankfully for him was still fueled and working like it was ready to go out once more to fish. The motor rumbled and roared loudly across the harbor in the night as the lights flicked on and the headlights automatically shone brightly in front of him towards the clear Atlantic. He heard a loud moan behind him as the one that crashed onto the deck ran towards the ladder and reached upwards, stepping on the first rung and slowly climbing upwards towards the nest where Evan pushed the lever than made the boat begin to trudge forwards in the water.

He turned about quickly, shielding his eyes for a moment as the lights shone brightly all of a sudden in the dark night. He brought his hands away from his eyes just in time to see the creature in front of him reach forwards with it's hands, baring it's sharp teeth at him.

Evan grabbed the creature hands as he made a cry in despair, throwing the thing's hand away from him and then giving it a great kick in the chest, sending it down to the deck again from the raised steering wheel. It fell with a moan and landed hard on the thick deck, flailing for a moment as Evan peered over the edge and quickly jumped down as he left the controls to whatever they would do.

He landed next to the creature, grabbed a nearby oar and with a mighty blow, gave the creature a great hit to the head. It cried out once again and shook, and then again as the cougar hit it again and again until it was still, blood pouring from it's beaten head.

Evan held the wooden oar in his hands tightly and stopped, the weapon raised and ready to attack again. When he was sure it was dead, he covered his hands in some rubber gloves, and with some difficulty, tossed the thing overboard with a splash.

The boat made a soft running noise as it coasted smoothly outwards into the darkness of the sea as he climbed quickly back up to the wheel and sped out into the Atlantic.

Even was safe for now.