Augustine sighed. He was sitting in the desk chair behind the return counter. Soft, elevator music played throughout the store.

  “Ma’am, you can’t return that. It’s against company policy,” he said, gesturing to the half-eaten baguette.

  The 50-ish woman pointed her wrinkly finger at a sign hung on the wall, shouting, “The company promises all returns as long as they are within 50 days!”

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t return a food product that has already been consumed,” Augustine replied.

  “I want to speak to your manager!” the old woman shouted.

  Augustine checked his watch. It was 11:30 a.m. He sighed, replying, “The manager isn’t in right now, and I am the assistant manager.”

  “That can’t be right. Let me speak to the real assistant manager. You wouldn’t be running returns with that kind of status,” the woman complained before taking a bite out of the loaf of bread.

  “I can assure you that I am the assistant manager. We simply haven’t found a replacement for the last person who held this position,” he reassured her before muttering under his breath, “The last person who dealt with this left after 3 days, and I’m starting to see why.”

  Augustine ignored the woman's continued babbling and began to consider giving up and shutting down the returns counter for the day when he heard the chime of a clock. It was twelve. He watched the manager walk into the store. Augustine had worked under Jerry for 3 and a half years, and they had formed a bond. Augustine walked out from behind the counter.

  “Jerry!” he called, waving him over, “I need you to take over!”

  Jerry sipped from his cup of coffee. “Fine, but I need to know why.”

  “Well, my shift just ended,” Augustine said.

  “Oh, right. On your way then,” Jerry said. “Don’t forget to clock out.”

  “I won’t!” Augustine replied, rushing into the staff room.

  Augustine opened his locker, grabbed his bag, and clocked out as quickly as he could. He rushed to his car and threw his bag into the passenger seat. He started the car and put it in drive. Then he shifted into reverse, as he realized he needed to get out of his parking spot before speeding off to his favorite place: the beach.

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  As he made his way towards the freeway, going through several lights, he spotted something in the sky. It was streaking across the sky, encased in a vermillion blaze. Augustine first thought it was a meteor, but when he pulled up to a red light the mystery object crashed into the center of the intersection. It stood up from the crater it had formed. Augustine squinted but could only barely see it through all the dust and the wrecked cars.

  The door swung open as Augustine got out of the car and started running away from the intersection. He didn’t really know what was going on, but he knew one thing. Whatever was in the crater, it wasn’t going to be good. Then he heard a deep, gravelly voice.

  “Augustine. James. Coleson.” he heard from the direction of the intersection.

  He turned to look, wondering what kind of creature could possibly sound like that—wondering what kind of creature would know his full name. Out of the dust walked an incredibly muscular humanoid shark. It had arms and legs, but was missing a tail. Gills were absent from their position along its neck. Its mouth was filled with rows of teeth. Its musculature could be matched by no mortal man; it was simply inhuman.

  “I’m gonna get you,” it said, pointing a clawed finger at him.

  Augustine ran. The shark ran faster. It caught him, grabbing him by his midsection and throwing him into a nearby storefront. Cuts and scratches covered his body, and as he tried to get up, he could feel that the shark had broken his bones. He stood, barely, staring down the shark. It rushed toward him, stopping immediately before they collided, before sending a devastating punch into Augustine’s gut. The punch had such force that he was nearly sent through the brick wall he had been standing in front of. The shark grinned at him as he coughed up blood. It slammed its foot into his chest, grabbed his right arm, and pulled with all its strength. He saw the tendons, nerves, and blood vessels in his shoulder struggling to keep his arm connected to its socket. With a final tug, Augustine’s arm came free. He sat in a puddle of his own blood, watching the shark shove the arm into its mouth. It chewed for a few moments before swallowing it in one gulp. Augustine raised his other arm, feebly punching at the shark’s massive calf.

  “Hah! You’re funny, thinking you could hurt me,” the shark exclaimed. “You’re too weak to even lay a scratch on me.”

  The shark raised its foot, slamming it down on Augustine’s chest. Once again, he coughed up blood. The shark again pulled at one of his limbs, this time his leg, ripping it off with brutal efficiency. It didn’t even bother removing any of his clothing before devouring it. Augustine’s vision began to blur. He could just barely make out the shark or himself. He tried moving his arm, but it didn’t even budge. He could feel his ribs piercing his lungs. The shark stepped back and reached down with one, meaty hand. It wrapped around his torso, and Augustine was lifted into the air. The shark blinked. Augustine’s eyes barely remained open, but he made out two distinctly colored lights held in the shark’s belly. He looked down at himself. Four lights within, and his body held its own glow. His shadow too contained a light. He looked back towards the creature and its sadistic grin.

  “You weren’t as good as I expected,” the shark stated before Augustine lost consciousness, and the shark stuffed him into its mouth.