Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

Joey trudged home from his shift at Burger Chef, his brown-and-orange uniform freckled with grease and smelling like fries that had seen better days. It was past midnight. He would’ve driven, or called an Uber, or even taken the bus—but he couldn’t afford the first two, and the last one didn’t come anywhere near his place. Out here near the Louisiana border, options were thin, especially for a guy like Joey.

So he did what he always did to pass the time: kicked a rock and watched how far it went.

After a few minutes, he spotted a good one—solid, hefty. He wound up and sent it skittering into the dark, farther than he could track. Jogging after it, he noticed something pale on the ground. Not just pale—*white*. Whiter than moonlight. It caught his eye in a way nothing out here ever did.

He crouched and picked it up.

A claw. Or a tooth. Maybe a talon. Whatever it was, it felt…wrong. Hard, but with a strange give to it. Hollow. Joey turned it over in his fingers, frowning. He’d seen enough bones and roadkill in his life to recognize something organic—but this didn’t match anything he knew.

“Too big for a tooth,” he muttered, holding it up to his mouth. He lowered it, pressed it against his palm. Still didn’t make sense. With a shrug, he kicked off his shoe and held it near his foot. “Maybe a claw? Like a dog’s…no too big for that...maybe a tiger.”Joey thought about that nusery rhyme

The thought made him grin. His mom used to recite that—right before grabbing his ankles and flipping him upside down when he was a kid.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” Joey sang under his breath, amused with himself. “Catch a tiger by the toe…”

His voice echoed faintly down the empty road.

“If he hollers, let him go… eeny, meeny, miny, moe.”

He chuckled.

The wind picked up.

Not gradually—just *there*, all at once, tugging at his clothes, whispering across the asphalt. Clouds swallowed the moon, plunging everything into a thicker dark. Joey glanced up, uneasy. Thunder rumbled somewhere overhead, low and heavy—but there was no lightning. No storm smell.

Then he saw it.

A patch of darkness in front of him… darker than everything else. So dark it swallowed what little light remained. It *moved*, folding inward like fabric collapsing in on itself.

Joey froze.

With a sound like something vast tearing open, the darkness snapped shut—and left something behind.

A figure.

Curled on the ground, unmoving.

“Uh… hello?” Joey called, already stepping forward despite every instinct telling him not to.

The figure stirred.

Slowly, it rose to its feet. Not especially tall—maybe five-ten—but hard to make out, like its edges refused to settle. For a second, Joey thought he was still looking at the dark itself… until something shifted.

A cape unfurled.

And beneath it—

Well.

Joey forgot how to breathe for a second.

She was… *incredible*. In the way statues probably felt insecure around her. Pale skin, almost glowing. Lips the color of fresh blood. A figure that didn’t so much *suggest* curves her bust alone declared them with confidence. Everything about her felt intentional. Precise. Like she had been designed to be looked at.

Her eyes found his.

She smiled—just a little—and ran her tongue across her lips.

Joey’s brain briefly filed that under *important information*.

She stepped toward him… then stopped.

Her gaze dropped to his hand.

“Where did you find that?” she snapped, all sharp edges now.

Joey flinched. “I—I just found it here. On the road.” He held it up, suddenly unsure if he should. “I was trying to figure out what it was. Thought maybe a claw or something. I, uh…” He swallowed. “Said that nursery rhyme. You know. ‘Eeny, meeny—’”

Her eyes widened.

“You didn’t,” she said, voice tight. “You didn’t say the whole thing.”

Joey gave a small, guilty nod.

She stared at him for a long moment.

Then she exhaled. “Well… fuck.”

Joey blinked. “That bad?”

She looked him up and down—really looked this time, like she was reassessing something important and not liking the results.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “Do you have any idea how astronomically unlikely this is?”

“Uh… no?”

“Of course you don’t.” She dragged a hand down her face, then pointed at him. “Your clueless ass just found one of my teeth—*my* tooth—and accidentally said the one phrase that binds me to you.”

Joey glanced at the strange white object in his hand.

Then back at her.

“…binds?” he repeated.

She smiled again.

This time, it showed just a little too much teeth