I took one step.
Just one.
I barely shifted my weight, the lab creaking softly beneath my boots—and then it happened.
Crunch.
Not glass. Not tile.
Plastic.
I looked down in horror.
A crushed water bottle. Half-deflated, clear label smeared with age and grime, flattened under the heel of my shoe.
The sound echoed through the dead room like a scream.
I froze.
My blood stopped moving. My breath collapsed into my chest and hid somewhere deep behind my ribs.
Outside, the world answered.
Skrrrkt—tak tak tak.
Footsteps. Light. Fast. Sharp.
I didn't think. I moved.
My body slammed into gear before the fear even finished processing. I pivoted toward the wall—toward a dark, bent shape half-buried near the far corner. A cabinet. Rusted metal, one door peeled back like a half-open jaw. Just wide enough. Just dark enough.
I lunged.
It wasn't clean. My shoulder hit the edge going in. Pain knifed through the socket. I bit down on my tongue to kill the sound and pulled the door shut with both hands, slow and shaking.
The inside was worse than I'd imagined.
It stank of rot and dust and metal blood. The bottom was wet. I didn't want to know from what. A broken shelf pressed hard into my back. Something sharp dug into my thigh, but I couldn't move. Not even a twitch.
Because they were already here.
I heard the tap of claws first.
Three. Maybe four.
Each one fast, but careful. They slowed when they hit the lab floor. I could feel them studying it, smelling the air, checking for heat or motion. The soft scrape of skin against tile. The breath.
Then—closer.
I clamped my eyes shut.
There was a hole in the cabinet door. A strip where the metal had corroded, jagged and small—eye-level if I leaned forward. I didn't. I didn't dare. I could already see too much.
A shadow moved across the crack. One long, narrow foot slid into view. The claws gleamed—wet and black. It tapped once, then pressed gently to the floor.
A low hrhhhnnk sound gurgled in the creature's throat. Almost like a cat growl—but deeper. Thicker. Intelligent.
It turned.
The tail came next. Long and roped with sinew, it swept the dust in a slow, deliberate arc.
I didn't move. I didn't breathe.
My heart punched against my chest like it wanted out.
I pressed both palms against the metal walls of the cabinet. They were cold. Slick with condensation. I imagined myself melting into them, becoming part of the steel.
Shredder calm down Shredder calm down Shredder calm down—
No good. It didn't work this time.
This wasn't like hiding from the alligator. This wasn't like waiting out zoo patrols.
This was something else.
Something hunting.
I counted the footsteps again.
Three separate rhythms.
One to the left.
One near the broken counter.
One close.
The one near me.
I tried not to picture it. But I could. My mind gave me the image whether I wanted it or not.
A raptor. Head cocked. Eye like molten gold, slitted and sharp. Breath misting in the heat of the lab. Its claws twitching, testing, wanting to reach out and tap the cabinet like a toy.
I kept my head down. My eyes closed.
Even looking out might give me away.
They were that smart.
They could see movement through reflections. Through breath. Through the weight of attention.
I swallowed without sound.
Outside, another growl. Short. Clipped.
Then one of them shrieked.
Not loud. Not wild. A small warning shriek. A code.
It bounced through the bones of the lab.
The others stopped.
No one moved.
Then—click.
One stepped onto metal.
Another snorted. Short and aggressive.
The pack was talking again.
Coordinating.
I held my breath until I started seeing static behind my eyelids. The edge of blackout crept into the sides of my vision.
Still, I didn't exhale.
The raptors hadn't moved on. Not yet.
They were waiting. Circling. Thinking.
And I—Shredder, idiot zoo prankster—was trapped in a rusted tin can, shaking so hard the shelf behind me creaked.
No escape. No plan.
Just breath I couldn't release and a heartbeat loud enough to hear from space.
The raptors stayed.
And outside the thin, rusted cabinet walls—death pressed its ear against the steel and listened.