That's my Food

Melissa's breath caught, and the air seemed to leave her lungs as panic surged through her.

She stumbled into the room, the wreckage only confirming her worst fears. The bed was disheveled, the nightstand knocked over, its contents spilled across the floor. Claw marks gouged deep into the walls and floorboards spoke of a violent struggle.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her voice trembling as she scanned every corner of the room, hoping, praying, for any sign of her son. But there was nothing. Only destruction and silence.

The reception clerk came running up behind her, panting as he reached the doorway. He stopped dead in his tracks, his wide eyes darting around the room before landing on the torn door.

"What da hell?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with equal parts shock and confusion.