Vincent thought they were fortunate enough that the collapse of society hadn't occurred yet. People were still respectfully keeping their hands off anyone else's carts.
They bought what they could. This time Vincent didn't have the mind to keep his pride intact. He let the siblings pay for all of it.
But a month's worth of supplies was all they could get in this place, as the store had already imposed a limit on certain products.
Vincent took the siblings to Walmart and Superstore next, going back to the mansion twice before night fell. Their trip had given them three months' worth of essentials, but now it was time to worry about food.
Daniel's order for canned and dried food had yet to arrive.
"We have two weeks worth of food," Angel announced after checking the state of the kitchen, her territory.
"We'll leave early tomorrow. In the meantime, let's add more cameras outside." Vincent gestured to Daniel and spent the remaining daylight installing cameras.
Burglars wanting a piece of tech worth thousands had become too common, so the Gilroy's mansion had CCTV in all of its corners (Angel's bathroom was the only exception).
Afterwards, they camped the news. Live streams of people talking about the issue were overlapping in the background.
And yet, the trio showed no signs of confusion. Their unwavering focus was a result of years of productive discipline.
The four elementally mutated animals were the main subject, but other than their attributes, no other information surfaced.
Governments where these animals appeared were also deadly quiet, leaving the netizens with more questions than answers.
In the end, Vincent decided they should sleep early while everything was relatively peaceful.
But peace was as fragile as an unprotected phone's screen.
Midnight came.
And the city of Regina trembled.
Shrieks, howls, and roars ambushed the night, tearing through the silence and dragging everyone into a nightmare.
The loud, jarring emergency alert on their phones was a step too late, as the mansion's security system detected a trespasser first.
Outside, where snow continued to fall until it reached the knees of an average adult, an entity had invaded the peaceful white world.
Standing about a meter before the front door, what was originally a bulldog had morphed into an ugly mess of flesh.
Two other heads protruded next to the main one, extra limbs sprouted all over its body, and its canines grew out as if it were consuming itself.
The once proudly standing wrought iron gates had fallen, some bars dented after the bulldog had slammed into them.
Vincent was the first to stir. His vision briefly glitched, doubling before going back to normal. He frowned before shaking off the oddity.
He kicked Daniel and shook Angel awake, shushing them in warning before checking what the alert was all about.
[Attention: Due to unusual animal behaviour in the area, we advise all residents to remain indoors. Please secure all doors and windows, turn off any lights, and minimize noise. Further instructions will be provided as the situation develops.]
Vincent frowned. The lack of substantial information made his head ache.
They were in the attic, a room they had personally renovated to have one giant floor bed, with only a pole for entry and exit. Whenever Vincent chose to sleep over, this was where they would gather.
Vincent had been orphaned since he was 11. Though the Gilroys (his parents' friends) initially wanted to adopt him, he asked them to be his guardians instead, choosing to live on his own. And they respected his decision.
But his friendship with the siblings kept him tethered to the family. Inevitably, he would sleep over about 20 days each month.
Sliding down straight into the studio, they turned off the mansion's alarm blaring all over the place. It had been designed to scare off any intruders.
Then they checked the cameras, freezing at the sight.
The bulldog was sniffing for prey, but it reeked of its own blood, causing it to gnarl at its limbs. One of the heads caught its own flesh, tore it, tasted it, and spat it out in disgust.
The missing appendage grew back in three seconds.
In the spacious studio, the silence was suffocating. A minute was taken to really process what they were seeing.
"I-I must be dreaming, am I?" Daniel turned to Vincent. The big guy couldn't help but look at him for solace.
Vincent's lips pursed. Before he could answer, he felt a tug on the hem of his shirt.
Angel looked innocent without the gothic makeup, appearing undisturbed. But the hand gripping his clothes was trembling, she was using him as an anchor to keep her composure from crumbling.
Vincent's breath hitched. His gaze moved between Daniel's and Angel's original hazel eyes. The denial and fear mixed behind their stares painted their expressions pale. He wanted to say that the only reason they weren't panicking was probably because they were desensitized by VR horror games.
But reality was so much more different than mere graphics on a screen.
Vincent's own fears seemed to disappear under their quiet dependency. He wrapped Angel's hand with his own, a silent reassurance.
"Keep quiet," he whispered, shocked by the steadiness of his voice. "Dan, did you end up buying the guns from that kid in the hood? Take them out just in case."
Daniel had secretly done so, but he was exasperated at how confident Vincent sounded. That somehow helped with his fears, and his locked-up muscles were freed. He nodded and silently retrieved his illegal firearms.
The guns were taped to the roof of his drawers—a Springfield and a revolver. Hesitantly, he brought out a double-barrel shotgun hidden in the desk's secret compartment as well.
This wasn't really the moment to ask where he got the shotgun, as Vincent remembered the kid was only selling sidearms, so he simply distributed the guns. Taking the Springfield, he gave Angel the revolver and Daniel the shotgun.
There were 62 9mm Lugers and 16 20-gauge buckshots. With the extra 20-round magazine for the Springfield, Vincent gave Angel the rest.
Putting their phones into silent mode, they waited in silence, watching the bulldog walk back and forth near the entrance.
It knew there was food nearby, but its nose had gone numb from the smell of its own blood. It tried to rely on hearing, but the snow crunched under its feet, deepening its confusion.
A moment passed… minutes, until everyone's shoulders started to relax.
Just then, another emergency alert arrived.
Three phones cut through the silence, dousing everyone with cold water, creating chaos and panic. Curses rang out as they hastily dismissed it, but even with their impressive reflexes, the damage was already done.
The bulldog jerked to the direction of the sound, barking towards it—a deep, rumbling, distorted roar was mixed into its grunts.
It dashed straight through the door, breaking it with ease as if it were mere crackers. Showing a level of intelligence that seemed higher when it was a regular dog, it bolted towards the stairs, climbing to the second floor showing no signs of hesitation.
"Shit! Up the attic, now!" Vincent yelled, pushing a table toward the door.
The clutter on top fell to the floor, but Vincent was convinced the bulldog already knew where they were, so keeping quiet would only slow him down.
Daniel added more weight on top, hoping it would buy them some time.
By the time they turned, Angel was already up.
"Go!" Vincent pushed Daniel toward the pole, raising his gun toward the door. His stance was practiced—finger off the trigger, feet wide for stability, and both hands ready to resist the recoil.
Thud!
The door cracked with one slam. With less space to build momentum, the bulldog failed to break through in one go.
Vincent placed his finger on the trigger.
"I'm up!" Daniel shouted as he peeked.
Thud!
The door shattered. The table skidded back before falling, along with all the weight on top.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots landed on the bulldog's temples, halting it in its tracks right away.
Then Vincent sharply turned, jumping and climbing, his muscles burning from the effort.
But that wasn't enough to take it down.
It shook its dizzy head, barking in rage behind him while the stench of rotten flesh slammed into them.
Its jaws widened until its own skin tore, stretching beyond its limits as it lunged toward Vincent's feet.
Clink!
But the jaws only ground against an empty pole.
Vincent was safe. Daniel had yanked him up at the last moment.
"Ha— Thanks."
Daniel nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
But before they could calm down, the pole shook. The bulldog refused to let go, gnawing at it while attempting to pull it from both the ground and ceiling.
It succeeded.
Vincent moved back right as the dislodged pole was about to hit him.
Just like that, they were cornered.
The bulldog shook its head, destroying gadgets, consoles, and VR headsets with the pole in its mouth.
It was taking its anger with whatever it caught. A moment later, the pole was tossed to the side before it started barking at the opening on the ceiling.
Food was there. It could smell it now.