“Some say all vending machines are just machines—boxes of plastic and glass, dispensing snacks for a dime or two. But in the hidden corners of high school hallways, there are machines that don’t just feed on your quarters. They feed on something darker. And if you’re not careful, they’ll take more than your change.”

The old vending machine in the back corner of the hallway always seemed a little… off. It was one of the last models left in the school, an ancient relic with a dented metal frame and a flickering light above it. Most students ignored it, preferring the newer machines in the main lobby. But every now and then, someone would wander by, drawn to its eerie glow.

Today, it was Jacob who stopped.

He wasn’t thirsty, and he certainly didn’t need anything from a vending machine, but there was something about it. Something that tugged at him. As he stood in front of it, looking at the rows of stale snacks, he felt a slight chill run down his spine. The air around the machine seemed colder than it should have been, even for a locker-lined hallway.

“Just grab something and go,” he muttered to himself. But the longer he stared, the more he felt an odd pull toward it. His fingers brushed over the buttons, tracing the cold metal, until they landed on the bottle of orange soda in the far corner. He pressed the button.

There was a strange, scraping noise—a sound that shouldn’t come from a machine that was supposed to be dispensing drinks. For a split second, Jacob thought the thing had malfunctioned. But then, the machine rattled. The soda shifted. And then something darker oozed from the side, pooling around the base.

It was quick. Far too quick for a machine to move, but the shadow slithered like liquid, like something hungry. Jacob froze.

A cold, metallic scent filled the air, sharp and coppery. Before he could move, the thing was upon him. He recoiled, instinctively trying to back away, but his feet felt glued to the floor. The shadow lunged, twisting into a shape that was almost… human.

It wasn’t a machine anymore. It was a creature—clad in the same cold, metal colors as the machine but alive, breathing, feeding. Jacob could see its teeth now—long, pointed, and glistening with a sticky sheen, as though they had tasted too many souls to count.

A voice, raspy and faint, whispered from the depths of the vending machine: “You came for a snack… but it’s you that will be served.”

He should have run. But all he could do was stare at the thing—its hollow eyes locked onto him like it was deciding whether or not to feast.

And then, as though it had all been an illusion, the creature blinked. It seemed to hesitate, like it was confused or perhaps something had distracted it. The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

A figure appeared at the end of the corridor, walking toward them—Ms. Mercado, the school’s night custodian. She took one glance at the machine, then at Jacob, and shook her head as if she had seen it all before.

“You know better than to mess with old vending machines, kid,” she said. “They’re always hungry.” She gave him a wink before turning back toward the janitor’s closet, seemingly unfazed by the bizarre scene unfolding before her.

The vending machine creaked as if it had sighed—its cold, metallic hiss filling the space once more. Jacob blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the machine was just a machine again—silent and still. The creature, the hunger, the claws—everything was gone. Only the faintest trace of orange soda remained, now dribbling down the machine’s corner like spilled blood.

Jacob took a few steps back, his heart pounding. He didn’t know whether he had imagined the whole thing or if he’d narrowly escaped something worse. But as he turned to leave, he couldn’t help but glance back one last time.

The vending machine’s light flickered again, and in the faint reflection of the glass, he saw a shape. Just for a second. But this time, it wasn’t a creature. It was a smile.