The Hollow Pouch

Nobody noticed when Greg Henshaw went missing.

Sure, his co-workers at the auto shop wondered why he stopped showing up, but Greg was the kind of guy who quit things suddenly. His landlord figured he skipped town to dodge rent. His family, what little he had left, barely heard from him anyway.

So, when Greg returned a week later, standing on his front porch like nothing had happened, people just shrugged.

But Greg wasn’t quite right.

His skin looked a little looser, his movements a little stiffer. His voice had a strange, hollow quality, like it was struggling to fit inside him properly. And his eyes… his eyes didn’t blink as much as they should.

Still, nobody said anything. Not at first.

Then, one by one, others began disappearing.

And coming back.

Jodie Reyes was the first to notice something was seriously wrong.

It was late; too late for anyone else to be walking home. The quiet of the bush at night had always unsettled her, but tonight it felt different. The stillness wasn’t natural. Even the cicadas were silent.

Then she saw it.

By the edge of the woods, something lurked just beyond the trees. A shape, hulking and unnatural, its massive body shifting in the moonlight.

At first, Jodie thought it was a kangaroo. But it was wrong.

Too large. Too rigid. Its leathery skin stretched too tight over powerful limbs. Its arms were unnervingly long, ending in thick, clawed fingers that flexed and curled as if testing their grip. And its eyes; black and wet like two bottomless pits; glowed faintly in the dark.

And then the pouch moved.

Not like a mother cradling her young. No, it squirmed. Something inside struggled weakly, pressing against the thin, veined flesh.

The creature turned toward her, and Jodie saw the impossible.

Greg’s face.

His very human face, pressed against the inside of the writhing pouch, distorted and panicked, his mouth forming a silent scream.

Jodie choked back a cry. She stumbled backward, but the thing tilted its head, as if listening to her fear. Its long claws twitched, curling and uncurling.

She ran.

Behind her, the thing bounded. The heavy thuds of its monstrous legs shook the ground. Jodie didn’t dare look back. She vaulted over a fence, scrambled through someone’s yard, and darted down an alleyway.

The noises stopped.

She crouched behind a bin, gasping for air, her heart threatening to break free from her ribs.

Then she saw it.

A second one.

Another grotesque, alien kangaroo-like creature, dragging itself through the trees, its claws raking the dirt. Its pouch bulged and rippled. And inside…

A face.

Her face.

By morning, Greg was back in town. Standing on his porch. Smiling too wide.

Jodie didn’t sleep. She locked her doors, shut her curtains, and tried to tell herself she had imagined it.

But then more people started changing.

Old Mr. Baxter, who owned the bait shop, disappeared for three days. Then he was back, standing in front of his store, staring out at the street like he was waiting for something. His hands hung limply at his sides.

Katie Miller, a teenager who worked at the diner, vanished on her way home. Two nights later, she returned, walking stiffly down Main Street, her head twitching as though adjusting to her own neck.

And every single one of them smiled.

The people who had been replaced were off. They moved too deliberately, too precisely. Their skin sagged in places, just slightly; like a costume that didn’t quite fit. Their voices had a strange, empty quality, as if mimicking human speech rather than understanding it.

Jodie saw her neighbors watching her. Their eyes lingered too long, their expressions frozen just a moment too still.

Then, late one night, she heard it outside her window.

Thump.

Thump.

The heavy sound of something massive landing on the ground.

Jodie’s blood ran cold.

She peered through the blinds, barely breathing.

There it was.

One of the creatures, crouched in the streetlight’s glow, its grotesque body rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. It turned its head toward her house.

It knew she had seen them.

Jodie didn’t wait.

She threw clothes into a backpack, grabbed her car keys, and slipped out the back door.

She ran to her car, heart pounding, adrenaline screaming through her veins. She could feel eyes on her. Watching.

She started the engine.

In her rearview mirror, figures stepped onto their porches.

Smiling too wide.

Their eyes, too bright.

Jodie sped out of town and didn’t look back.

The disappearances didn’t stop.

And the ones who returned? They weren’t people anymore.

They stood on their porches, smiling their hollow smiles, waiting.

Watching.

And soon, there were no humans left in town at all.