Wings Tips And Terror The Night Everything Changed With Dakkota
11:24 video
The dinner rush had finally died down, and Dakkota could still feel the sticky echo of fryer oil on her skin as she clocked out of her shift. It was nearly midnight. She’d smiled and joked her way through six hours of wings and endless “game on the big screen” chatter, and all she wanted now was silence.
The drive home was quiet—just the hum of her old Honda and the soft glow of passing streetlights. Her apartment complex sat at the edge of town, a row of identical beige buildings that always felt a little too still at night.
She parked, gathered her tips into her purse, and trudged up the stairs.
When she unlocked the door, something felt… *off*.
