The Leech In A Suburban Supermarket

Kane darted through the snack aisle with the excitement of a child at a carnival, tossing bags of chips, cookies, and trail mix into the cart.

He paused to examine two different brands of beef jerky, weighing them in his hands as if conducting serious scientific research.

"This one has more protein, but this one has that smoky flavor," he muttered to himself.

Cyrus stood rigidly beside a display of breakfast cereals, his tall frame and impeccable suit making him look comically out of place.

He eyed the growing pile in the cart with barely concealed horror.

"Why are you purchasing these... prepackaged salt vessels when we could have fresh, properly prepared food delivered directly to us?" Cyrus asked, picking up a bag of cheese puffs.

Kane snatched it back. "Because road trip food isn't about nutrition. It's about fun."

A fluorescent light buzzed overhead, making Cyrus wince.

The sounds of beeping registers, squeaking carts, and the store's music system seemed to physically pain him.

"There is nothing enjoyable about processed corn dust," Cyrus stated flatly.

"Young man," came a stern voice from behind them. "You and your fancy friend are blocking the entire cereal section."

A tiny elderly woman with a floral headscarf glared up at Cyrus, her walker positioned aggressively. "Some of us don't have all day to stand around looking pretty."

Cyrus stiffened, clearly unused to being addressed in such a manner. "My apologies, madam. I didn't realize—"

"Well, now you do." She waved her hand dismissively. "Move that cart before I ram you with mine."

Kane bit his lip to keep from laughing as Cyrus, CEO of Veyr Corp and last of the black dragons, awkwardly maneuvered himself against the shelves to let the woman pass.

"Thank you, dear," she said to Kane, completely ignoring Cyrus now. "At least someone has manners."

As she shuffled away, Kane's composure finally broke. His laughter echoed down the aisle.

"Not. One. Word," Cyrus growled, straightening his jacket.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kane replied, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Kane turned the corner into the frozen foods section, still grinning at Cyrus's supermarket discomfort.

He stopped abruptly when he noticed a stockboy arranging fish sticks in the display case.

His nametag read "Craig," but something about him set off Kane's internal alarms.

The boy's skin had an unnatural gray pallor beneath the fluorescent lights, and his eyes—too wide, too dark—never blinked.

Kane's senses sharpened instantly.

The creature before him was a Leech spirit, a parasitic entity that fed on life energy.

They typically avoided populated areas, preferring to hunt isolated victims.

Finding one posing as a grocery store employee was like spotting a wolf in a daycare.

The leech spirit glanced up and locked eyes with Kane. Its eyes went wide, seeming to recognize him instantly.

"Oh no," the spirit hissed. "Ashwood."

It dropped the fish sticks, which clattered across the linoleum floor.

The creature bolted, knocking over a cardboard display of frozen pizza as it fled.

Kane reacted without thinking.

"Cyrus!" he called, already in pursuit. His shoes squeaked against the polished floor as he rounded the corner.

The leech spirit moved with unnatural speed, shoving past startled shoppers.

A woman's groceries spilled across the floor as the creature barreled through the produce section.

Kane weaved through the chaos, keeping his eyes fixed on the gray-skinned imposter.

"Why are you running?" Kane shouted, dodging an elderly man with a shopping basket.

The spirit glanced back, terror evident in its too-wide eyes.

The leech spirit made a desperate dash toward the exit, its speed drawing confused stares from shoppers.

It looked back once more at Kane—

The leech spirit struck Cyrus squarely in the chest.

The dragon hadn't moved quickly. He'd simply positioned himself precisely where the spirit would be.

Cyrus's hand shot out, gripping the creature by its throat.

The leech spirit's legs dangled uselessly above the ground as Cyrus lifted it effortlessly, his expression as calm as if he were selecting produce.

Cyrus carried the squirming leech spirit toward the exit, his grip never loosening despite the creature's desperate struggles.

"We need somewhere private," Kane whispered, glancing nervously at the confused shoppers watching them.

"The loading dock."

They slipped through a service door, emerging into a concrete area lined with empty pallets and cardboard bales.

Cyrus shoved the spirit against the wall while Kane pulled out his phone.

The spirit hissed, its human disguise flickering to reveal glimpses of its true form—ashen skin stretched over a gaunt frame, with too many joints in all the wrong places.

Cyrus held the creature at arm's length, his lip curled in revulsion.

The leech spirit's skin felt clammy and wrong against his fingers, like touching spoiled meat.

"You're getting your filth on my suit,"

Kane stepped forward, flashing his Bureau ID.

"Spirit Investigator Kane Ashwood. Let's start with who you are and why you're playing stockboy in a suburban supermarket."

The leech spirit's jaw worked silently for a moment, its throat still constricted by Cyrus's grip.

"C-can't... breathe..." it rasped.

Cyrus loosened his hold fractionally.

"Name's Craig," the spirit wheezed. "Just... making a living."

The leech spirit fumbled in its pocket with trembling fingers, producing two plastic cards—a spirit ID and an employee badge.

Kane took the IDs, eyeing them suspiciously.

The spirit registration showed a Class C permit—the kind issued to non-threatening entities.

The employee badge featured the same gaunt face staring back at them, complete with the supermarket's logo.

"This can't be right," Kane muttered, pulling out his phone.

He opened the Bureau's verification app, scanning the spirit ID.

The screen flashed green with a simple profile: Craig Marshton, Leech Spirit, Minor Infractions Only—shoplifting and one count of illegal feeding from a hospital blood bank.

Kane stared at the verification results, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"You're... actually legitimate?" He asked, looking back at the trembling leech spirit.

Craig nodded frantically, his eyes darting between Kane and Cyrus.

"Look, I've done some stuff I'm not proud of. I swiped some trinkets and helped myself to a blood bag or two. But I'm clean now, I swear."

"Times are tough for spirits like me," Craig continued, his voice cracking.

"Nobody wants to hire a leech. The grocery store was the only place that didn't ask too many questions."

Kane placed his phone back in his pocket, crossing his arms.

"If you're just an honest, hardworking leech spirit, why did you bolt the second you saw me?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"And how did you know my name?"