Rain had been falling since sunset, the kind that turned streets into mirrors and made the whole city smell like wet iron and secrets. Greyhaven never really slept. The lights never went out, and the noise never died. But at 2 a.m., the city changed. The people who worked in the day disappeared, and the night took over—the drifters, the restless, the ones who didn't belong.
Rick Danner was one of them.
He leaned on his battered delivery bike outside a rundown diner, waiting for the last order of the night. The neon sign above him buzzed like it was struggling to stay alive. Steam rose from his breath as he checked his phone for the pickup address.
"13 Dockside Avenue."
He frowned. That part of town was practically abandoned. Nobody lived there anymore—at least, nobody normal.
Still, a job was a job. He zipped his jacket, pulled his helmet over his messy brown hair, and kicked the bike into gear. The city lights stretched and blurred as he sped down the slick streets, puddles splashing under his tires.
Rick didn't mind the night. He liked how it made the world quieter. But lately, the quiet had started to feel different—heavier. Like someone was always watching him.
He told himself it was just stress. Bills, rent, his brother's hospital fees. Reality was weight enough.
When he reached Dockside Avenue, the streetlights were flickering. Most buildings there had broken windows and rusted gates. He parked by an old warehouse with the number 13 painted faintly on the wall.
There was no sign of anyone.
He removed his helmet, wiped the rain from his eyes, and called out.
"Delivery for… uh… whoever ordered at two in the morning?"
No answer. Only the echo of dripping water.
Rick sighed and started toward the door. The air felt colder near the entrance, like walking into the breath of a freezer. He hesitated, then knocked. The metal door creaked open by itself.
"Great," he muttered. "Haunted warehouse, perfect."
He stepped inside.
The smell hit him first—iron and smoke. Then the sound—low growling, somewhere deep in the dark. His phone flashlight flicked on, slicing through the shadows.
What he saw made him freeze.
Two men—or at least, they looked like men—were fighting near the center of the warehouse. One was pale, unnaturally pale, his eyes glowing faintly red. The other was huge, muscles rippling beneath torn clothes, his face half-wolf, half-human. Claws slashed through the air, hitting concrete and metal with sparks.
Rick's brain couldn't catch up.
A vampire. And a werewolf.
He backed away slowly, heart pounding. His flashlight shook in his hand. The vampire noticed him first—its crimson eyes snapping toward him.
The creature hissed, fangs glinting. "A Seer?"
The werewolf growled, blood dripping from his claws. "He's human. Leave him."
"Then he shouldn't be able to see us," the vampire spat.
Rick didn't wait to figure out what that meant. He turned and ran.
But the air around him rippled, like heat waves. The world flickered—and suddenly everything looked different. The rain that had been pouring outside now fell as silver light. Symbols glowed faintly on the warehouse walls. Shadows moved with purpose, like they were alive.
"What the hell—" Rick gasped.
He burst out the door, leapt on his bike, and sped away. The streets weren't empty anymore. He saw shapes—things hiding behind alley dumpsters, eyes glowing from rooftops, wings stretching between skyscrapers. The whole city had changed, like another world was layered over it.
He didn't understand it. He just knew something inside him had shifted. His vision burned, his hands trembled, and a voice echoed in his head, faint but clear:
"You've seen the Veil."
He crashed his bike into a trash bin two streets down and rolled off before it toppled. Pain shot through his arm, but he barely felt it. The voice in his head whispered again, softer this time.
"You can't unsee it now."
He stumbled toward the nearest light—an old corner store that was somehow still open. The clerk, a tired-looking man with thick glasses, stared at him like he'd seen a ghost.
"You alright, kid? You look like you've seen a monster."
Rick laughed, but it came out shaky. "Yeah," he said. "Something like that."
He glanced at the window. Outside, the street looked normal again—no glowing eyes, no wings, no creatures. Just rain, cars, and people. The ordinary world.
Maybe he was losing his mind.
He bought a bottle of water just to have something normal to do. The clerk rang it up, and when Rick handed him the cash, the man's hand brushed his.
The clerk's eyes turned black for a second.
Rick jumped back, knocking over a rack of candy bars. The man blinked, his eyes back to normal, and frowned. "Hey, watch it!"
Rick didn't answer. He bolted out the door into the rain again, panting hard. His breath came in sharp bursts.
Something was wrong with the world. Or with him.
He didn't go home that night. Instead, he sat on a bench near the river, soaked and shivering, watching the fog drift over the water. His phone buzzed with a message from his friend, Lira—the girl who sometimes hired him for "special" deliveries.
Lira: You saw it, didn't you? Don't go back to Dockside. They'll be looking for you now.
Rick stared at the screen, confusion mixing with fear.
He typed back:
Rick: Who are "they"?
The reply came almost instantly.
Lira: The ones who live behind the Veil.
Rick looked up. The rain had stopped. The city skyline shimmered faintly, like a curtain of glass between two worlds.
He didn't know what the Veil was.
But somehow, he knew his life would never be the same again.