7:24 PM – Lakebridge Mart
The soft jazz humming from the store speakers did little to cover the tension in Julian's shoulders. He pushed the half-filled cart slowly, Leah trailing beside him, her arms crossed tight.
"Can't believe we're out shopping like normal," she said. "Feels wrong."
Julian chuckled faintly. "Well, normality died two days ago."
She looked at him, then smiled sadly. "I'm glad you came with me."
"I figured Death wouldn't hit us in a cereal aisle," he said, nudging a box of granola into the cart.
But even as he joked, his eyes scanned everything.
Loose wires near the fridges. A puddle by the seafood section. A swinging sign barely attached over Aisle 6.
They had learned to see the world like a deathtrap.
7:30 PM – Aisle 9: Cleaning Supplies
"Bleach, gloves, paper towels..." Leah read from her phone.
Julian wandered off a bit, stopping near the mop section. "Remind me again why we're stocking up like we're prepping for the apocalypse?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Julian. This is the apocalypse."
He laughed — real, deep laughter. It echoed strangely in the near-empty aisle.
That's when the cart began to roll away on its own.
"Huh?" Julian turned.
It bumped into a stacked tower of boxed mops.
Wobble.
"Oh no—" he reached for it.
Leah lunged too.
But it didn't fall.
They exhaled.
"False alarm," Julian muttered.
CRACK!
A light overhead exploded.
Glass rained down.
They ducked — not cut.
Still alive.
Still here.
"I don't like this," Leah whispered.
Julian's voice dropped. "It's here. Watching."
Suddenly, a scream — a child nearby dropped a soda can, slipping in a spill and crashing into a shelf. His mother yanked him up. "Are you okay?"
The noise masked the next movement:
A tall, metal aisle mirror, secured above the shelves, trembled. The screws had loosened.
Julian turned too late.
Snap.
The mirror fell.
CRASH.
Julian shoved Leah out of the way—
And took the brunt of the impact.
Glass shattered across the tiles.
Leah hit the ground and rolled. "Julian!"
He lay twisted under the cracked frame, shards punched into his shoulder, his chest, blood spreading.
"NO NO NO—" she crawled to him, lifting his head.
He blinked slowly. "You're okay... right?"
"Don't—don't talk! Stay awake!" Her voice cracked. "Help! Someone—HELP!"
A few shoppers gathered, frozen in horror.
Julian coughed. Blood ran from the side of his mouth.
"You're safe," he whispered.
"Julian, please—"
His eyes glazed over, still wide, still watching her.
Then—empty.
Gone.
Leah screamed.
7:43 PM – Outside the Store
The ambulance came too late.
Mark stood with Cole and the others across the street, staring at the flashing lights. Leah sat on the curb, wrapped in a blanket, blank-eyed and rocking slightly.
Cole whispered, "He... saved her."
Mark didn't respond.
He just watched as they loaded Julian's covered body into the van.
"Death didn't need him to die that way," Mark said finally. "It made it... personal. Emotional. It's punishing us."
Cole clenched his fists. "We made it mad."
Leah stood, walking slowly toward them.
"I watched him die," she said, voice hollow. "I was one foot away."
Mark stepped forward. "You survived. That's what he wanted."
"No," she whispered. "Julian didn't want to survive. He wanted me to. And now... I owe him."
She looked up, and her grief had become something sharper.
"I'm not waiting to die, Mark. We stop this. No matter what."
A gust of wind blew through the empty lot.
And far above, another screw began to loosen.