Kenzo’s breath turned shallow. “Give what back?” he whispered, though he already feared the answer. The thing beside him shifted again, and the bus seemed to shrink around them.

A soft thump hit his feet.

When he looked down, a black bag sat on the floor — one he had never seen before, yet it looked old, like it had been carried through rain, dust, and years of silence. The hooded woman gasped when she saw it.

“That bag doesn’t belong in this world,” she whispered. “You weren’t supposed to touch it.”

Kenzo shook his head, panic rising. “I didn’t touch anything!”

But the creature beside him exhaled again, this time warm and angry, and the bus lights flickered weakly — just enough for Kenzo to see the bag twitch… like something inside was trying to get out.

The driver slammed the brakes without warning, sending everyone lurching forward.

“Open it,” he said, voice trembling. “Before it opens itself.”

Kenzo stared at the shivering bag, feeling the thing beside him lean even closer.

And then the zipper slowly began to slide open…

on its own.