Should've seen this coming. Go out on a quick errand run, he thought, grab some beer and boxing gloves and maybe a few things to get Casey a more well rounded (practical) education, he thought. And the streets are full of shadows and whispers he remembers on a bone deep level.

It hadn't killed him, last time. God almighty knows he might've preferred that to the endless void.

He's too dumbstruck to do more than stand and stare till glass shatters nearby (bye beer) and he's startled into movement, sprinting as far from the mess as he can. Not that it does a damn thing when three thick tendrils snake out of nowhere and get him by the ribs, arm, and throat.