The mother and her two daughters walked down the street, hand in hand. One of the daughters was quite small, but not so small that she couldn’t talk, walk, or giggle. And she was definitely giggling because she was with her mother and bigger sister. Warm, protected, and cared for. She had a broad smile on face, light skip in her step, and uplift in her precious heart.

  The elder daughter, on the other hand, was not so old that she was a rebellious teenager, yet. Doing things like breaking the rules, sneaking out at night, flirting and fraternizing with boys at parties. She wasn’t so young, though, that she was silly like her little sister, not knowing enough words to really understand things, or slurring them in silly ways, and seeing the world in a bright, bubbly fashion that only a curious child can fathom.

  Certainly not.

  She may not have been a teenager yet, but she was strong, capable, and smart.

  The mother was the strong one, the caring one, the warm one. The one that had woken up late at night when they were babies, attending to their crying needs, their emotional turmoil, their dirty and wet diapers, their warm tears. Hugging them, tucking them in, watching over them, and protecting them. Giving her very life for their safety.

  Such was the instinct of a mother.

  She held a secret, though.

  One she kept from her daughters and even her dear husband, the man that was her rock and shoulder to cry on. A tender and loving hand when it was needed, and a supportive nature that without it—without him—would have certainly led to her downfall, her utter destruction. They were a great team, and the daughters just enriched it even more.

  But her secret… how could she tell him? It was a terrible, weighty burden, and the idea that her life was cut short for power to fight fiends that most humans thought were just a fairy tale, a bump in the night, a legend.

  Yet the terrible truth was that monsters did exist, and she felled them with her precious powers that cut her life short for the duty she had chosen to uphold.

  “Mommy?” came the voice of her little one, named Abigail. She had squeezed and tugged on her mother’s hand, looking up at her with those big, curious, concerned eyes of hers—red eyes and a face that were like looking into a mini version of herself. “What’re you thinking?”

  She smiled down at her daughter, squeezing back and scrunching up her face in a way only a mother could. “I was thinking about you in your warm pajamas, snuggled up in bed. And me, reading you a book to help you go to sleep, with the night light just right so you can doze off to wonderland.”

  The youngest simply giggled, saying, “You’re funny, mommy.” Then she lit up much like a night light in a dark room, her eyes bulging wide with excitement, and took a deep breath as if breaking from the surface of the deep end of the pool after swimming down. “Yer gonna read to me tonight? You don’t have to go away like you usually do…?” she trailed off, her eyes peering toward the ground in a defeated motion.

  Mother was gone at night, and often. For work, they thought.

  Little did they know the truth that crept in the darkness, the creatures that lurked in the shadows and snuck through alleyways, watching and waiting for a chance to strike and devour.

  Masako glanced up at sky that was darkening and giving into night. Foreboding thunderclouds looming overhead, and a flash of lightning brightened the ever-darkening dusk. A quick clap of thunder boomed and made the little one jerk toward her mother in a leaning motion.

  She cried out and closed her eyes. “Mommy.” She clasped hard against her mother’s clothes and body.

  “Don’t worry, little princess,” Masako said, patting the little one on her head in a reassuring manner. “We’ll be home soon enough.” Which she intended to be true as she picked up the pace, part of her thinking perhaps they should have taken the bus, or called for some form of transportation—a taxi, perhaps?—or even just her husband. While they could certainly call for a cab or wait for a bus, it wasn’t too far, so she thought she’d just continue and hoof it.

  She felt foolish for this thought, but pushed on, persistent in her decision to walk.

  Her husband was always there, always willing, always loyal. The fool. She smiled at the thought of her husband’s face, of his comforting embrace, of falling into him and feeling safe, which was ironic for what she knew of the world, and the powers she possessed. But even so, her life was fleeting, and she often felt like the little girl she once was while wrapped up in his warmth.

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  Her feeling of foolishness lingered, but she pushed forward. While she could contact her husband, she hated bothering him at work, and she had a stubborn streak of figuring things out on her own, so she wouldn’t text or call him. She’d get them home just fine. That’s all she could do. All she ever did. Everything would be fine.

  “You’re such a baby,” whined the elder daughter. Stubborn and strong she was, just like her mother, but also a little bit of a pestering force toward her little sister, as often older sisters were. It made her think of her own elder sister and what had happened to her. She didn’t like thinking on dark thoughts, but they often came nonetheless.

  “Now, now, Katherine,” Masako said with a little bit of a warning tone backed with warmth. “Be nice to your little sister. There’s nothing wrong with being scared of a little thunder.”

  “Humph,” Katherine said, pushing her nose in the air and folding her arms. “Plenty wrong with being a little scaredy cat.”

  “I’m not a scaredy cat,” little Abigail said, puffing out her cheeks and glaring at her sister.

  “Are too.”

  “Am not!”

  This exchange happened several more times, seeming to continue to the infinite. Kids being kids, some adults might argue.

  But Masako would have none of it.

  “Hey, you two,” Masako insisted, squeezing Katherine’s forearm this time with a stern look as if to bolster her help in easing up on her little sister.

  Another flash of lightning whipped across the sky followed by the hammer of thunder. When the rain started, Masako pulled them along quicker.

  “Come on, now,” she said, picking up the pace. “Let’s stop this bickering and get a move on. It’s just a few more blocks.”

  The foolishness she felt earlier began to turn to worry and she wasn’t sure why. She often listened to her instincts, her intuition, and right now something felt off, and thus had a sudden urge to hurry. Still, she could simply call Richard, ask for a ride, or even a cab or Uber.

  “Mommy,” Abigail pleaded, looking like she was going to cry both from the storm and the struggle to keep up the pace with her little legs. “You’re going too fast. I can’t keep up.”

  “Cause yer a scaredy cat,” Katherine said, not heeding her mother’s warning glare. “And scaredy cats don’t have what it takes to keep up.”

  “Am not, am not, am not,” Abigail said, raising her voice and stomping her foot as she pulled from her mother’s grip. Little Abigail looked like she was about to throw a temper tantrum. This would swiftly put a wrench in the plan of getting home quickly.

  Katherine smiled a sinister little grin as if to say, gotcha.

  This was all Masako needed, so she turned with a swift pivot, her eyes angry, her tone angrier, and scolded Katherine. “Now, you listen to me, young lady.” Katherine cowered at her mother’s temper, her red eyes feeling like fire upon her as she knew she had gone too far, pushed things too much. “You will cease teasing your sister, right now!”

  “Yes, mother,” Katherine said, lowering her head, fighting back tears for being scolded and not knowing what to do about it but cry.

  Once the tears began to flow, Masako had realized her folly at snapping at her eldest, and so she leaned down and placed gentle hands upon tender shoulders as they shook.

  “I’m sorry, mom.”

  “It’s okay, darling,” Masako said, wiping wetness that was either her tears or rain from her cheek. She brushed strands of Katherine’s purple hair to the side in a ginger way that only a mother could do, smiling. Katherine may not have looked like her, but she had her energy, her stubborn nature.

  She pulled Katherine into a tight hug, knowing this would settle her.

  “We’re hugging,” Abigail cried, leaning into them and hugging her tiny arms around them as well. “Don’t be sad, Katherine. She patted her elder sister on the arm, and they met eyes, no more teasing, just smiles.

  The rain began to pick up.

  Abgail lifted her palms up, leaning back and blinking up at the rain with a playful smile. “It’s raining, it’s raining!”

  “Okay, you two,” Masako said with a sigh, rising to her full height, and taking their hands in a squeezing motion. “Let’s get ourselves home now, okay?”

  They both nodded and in unison said, “Okay!”

  And they were off, power walking down the street, only a few more blocks to go.

  Darkness glided in, and the rain poured in heavy drops. Lightning cracked from time to time, followed by the resounding thunder that made both of her daughter’s flinch.

  As they moved down the sidewalk, something felt off. Felt wrong. Felt dark. And she knew something was upon them like she always knew when these things happened ever since she had the ability to search them out and find them like a beacon. And thus, her worry was warranted.

  The street was empty, and there was not a car in sight, which was odd. Another flash of lightning drowned the silence of the pouring rain, and that is when she saw it. The sight made her daughters shudder, their breaths taken from them as they stared at it in frozen fright. This was the power of a Corrupted. Not only instilling fear from its presence and shape, but also having to inflict pressure on those lacking supernatural powers.

  Luckily, she had supernatural powers herself that she was pushing out to protect them, while also hoping that her daughters maybe had some of their own. Yet that was not the most pleasant of thoughts because she knew what them having powers could lead to, and she never wanted that for them.

  A crack of thunder brought them back to reality, at least what they thought was reality.

  “M-mom,” Katherine said, her voice shaking with unease as what they were looking upon appeared very much like a werewolf from horror movies. “W-what is that?” Her grip tightened on her mother’s hand.

  It was a nasty, gnarly thing as it skulked out of the shadows, turning from a dumpster it was rummaging through. The thing stalked forward, its eyes narrowing on her two daughters. Easy prey, easy blood, easy kill. It snarled.

  “Mommy?” Abigail said with a little hiccup, her tiny heart thumping against her chest as she shivered and pressed against her mother for protection. “That’s a scary doggy.”

  It was a hulking beast, standing on hind legs and presenting its large torso and wide shoulders and thick arms and looming body.

  It leaned back and let out a might howl that cut through the downpour.

  Another flash of lightning revealed its long snout, sharp teeth, hungry eyes, and imposing, furry body.

  The crack of thundered that followed made Abigail and Katherine jerk.

  Then the thing charged.