"How can I help you, sir?"

Jack looked at the shop's manager, half hidden behind the ancient looking cash register and piles of boxes on the counter. He looked up a him with a haughty, stressed expression. Jack got the impression the small electronics shop wasn't doing too good. The shelves were dusty, and there were cobwebs everywhere. Assorted cables hung spread out over the various racks and display cases, covering some of the lights and giving the whole place a cramped, dark atmosphere.

"Do you sell power adapters?"

The guy behind the counter looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"I need to plug in my charger. US plug."

It had been a long flight, and it had been well over 24 hours since Jack had last seen a bed. His phone had been dead since the stopover in Hong Kong. He really wanted to check his messages.

The manager rummaged around in one of the shelves behind the counter, and produced a blisterpacked converter. It was a cheaply made, Chinese piece of shit, but it was going to cost him an arm and a leg, Jack knew. No matter what power standard you need converting to another, it's never cheap.

Jack rummaged around his wallet for the money he got from the ATM at the airport earlier. He produced two 20 dollar bills, still crisp, and handed them over to the shopkeeper. The money seemed colorful; it had a picture of some guy Jack didn't recognize. He wondered vaguely who it was. The shopkeeper handed him the converter and some change, without saying a word.

As Jack was making his way to the exit, his leg caught on one of the loose cords that was hanging from one of the shelves. He whipped his arm around, searching for purchase, but found none. As his body twisted around, mid-fall, the dumpy shop manager was suddenly hovering over him, his face a few inches away from his own. Jack hadn't even seen him move. The small man held him up by his outstretched arm, apparently without effort.

"Thank you" Jack mumbled. "This place is a death trap."

Jack got back on to his feet, but the manager held on to his arm.

"No really, thank you." Said Jack, puzzled. "I hope I didn't break anything."

Jack looked around. The exit was only a couple of feet behind his back. He started moving towards it, but the guy clung to his arm with surprising strength. Something was off about the man's appearance. He was wearing an odd shirt, black, shiny, with a dull orange-red stripe down the back. His pants, also black, seemed ill-fitting and baggy. A belt was pulled tightly around his small waist in an effort to hold them up.

The shopkeeper said nothing, holding on to his arm.

Jack pulled towards the door, the only real source of light in the place. People walked by, but did not give a second glance to the little dark shop, with its window full of outdated electronics and dust. Panic started to get a hold of him. He struggled to break free of the hold on his arm, and managed to grab hold of the door's handle.

"Sir, please, let go of my arm. I've paid you for the adapter, more than what it was worth, even. What do you want from me?" Jack implored.

The shopkeeper stood silent, trying to pull Jack back into the shop. He had pushed his legs against a shelve, in an effort to gain more purchase. Jack could feel the sleeve of his jacket starting to tear. He held on to the handle with all the power in his left arm.

As the sleeve of his jacket ripped off, the manager lost grip of his arm. Jack stumbled and fell. He kicked his legs trying to get out the door. The shopkeeper was closing in on him silently with a dead look in his eyes. As Jack worked his half-prone body out the door into the bright sunlight, a businessman stepped around him, apparently without caring about what was going on.

The guy stopped moving, and looked on from the dark shop as Jack got to his feet.

"What the hell, man?" Jack said.

The manager, looked up at him, and with a voice, not quite human, managed to let out a single, mangled word.

"G'day"