Prologue

People have been disappearing from our village. Last week, It was the Caulghington’s infant son.

Three weeks later, I lost my brother. I was there when it happened; I saw it coming.

It had recently rained. Everything felt moist, and most stuck inside to fight the chilling cold.

Our bed was pushed away from the window, snuggled tightly in the corner of the room. The wind was violent, and I had thought nothing of it until I heard the footsteps against the hay. The strain of the straw bending beneath the force.

“Jia.” My brother whispered frightened.

I swallowed thickly and used my arms to turn me towards the source.

A giant yellow eye stared back, a cruel grin flashing under the candlelight. It’s meaty hand reaching over the bedframe and dipping into the blankets to tug my brother up and out.

I was frozen. Frozen in fear. I couldn’t do anything. I can’t do anything.

I grab onto my brother’s leg and hold on tightly.

“No!” I shout in fear.

The giant is stronger. It pulls both of us up and out.

And then, darkness as it’s teeth closes around my head.

Crunch

The pop of a skull. The breaking of flesh.

I had accounted myself as dead.

I should be dead.

So why am I still standing here?

I awoke, untouched, and staring at the empty spot next to me. It’s still dark outside. It can’t be far.

“Fang!” I shout his name.

A clash sounds around the room as my back meets the floorboard. I roll onto my stomach and crawl to the prosthetic in the corner of the room.

I fasten it onto my leg, tying it around my stump firmly before standing.

“Brother?”

A white hot flash. Fear followed by anxiety- and then relief. He’s there.

My brother. Unharmed.

“Fang!” I grasp his shoulders and look him over. “Where- how-”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Fang asked with the subtle tilt of his head.

I gulp thickly. My eyes trailed over to the window. Was it a dream?

“Yeah.” I stutter and shift my gaze back to him. “What are you doing up?”

There was something about this. Something strange.

“The Governor’s men were at the door. The Caulghington’s son was stolen just a few hours ago.”

Fang’s hand brushed against my sweaty forehead. My hair pushed back by the gesture.

“Are you okay?” Fang’s lips quivered. A quirk he had. Something he did when worried.

I nod. “You should head back to bed. It’s late. I’ll stay up and listen for news.” I insist.

They ended up finding the remains of the child littered upon rocks. The hunting hounds scavenged them up thinking they were the remains of a dead goose.

Since the event, the village has been silent. More and more people disappear by the day, and diminish our numbers.

And I keep having that dream.

Over and Over.

Over and Over.

Over. And. Over.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I had gotten used to it at some point, but then it changed up.

The sounds of screams.

The eyes watching from the window.

It just kept getting worse and worse.

“Our clan has lived on these grounds for the past millennia. We cannot let these creatures of the night linger in our hearts! Our Lady Mistress of the Moon, Tagoluyet, has protected us all this time with her gift!” The elders preach to the assembly.

The ignorance goes far for us humans.

“Loud, arnt they?” a feminine voice chirps up from beside me.

Vera, the village chief’s daughter, is a proud woman. Her long red hair is usually held in a braid; but it’s down today.

Eyes that once twinkled like stars, now quiver.

“Scary, isnt it? Not knowing who’s next. Could be you. Could be me.”

I rub my forehead.

“I see no need in worshiping a god who cannot protect it’s people. We should have hightailed it out of these lands 40 years ago.” I retort.

“We cannot help the dependents.” Vera rests her head on my shoulder.

I follow her gaze down to my knee, where my prosthetic clings to.

“Their power derives from her will. You used to be one of the best.” She jests.

“One of the bests? Master Yun would rather me in the fields rather than under the tree.” I roll my eyes.

After the service, people approached me. Mainly parents who have lost their children to the unnightly ones. They offered their condolences.

They said that Tagoluyet had a plan. A plan.

Stupid.

By nightfall, I had everything packed and ready to go.

And by the time morning came, I was gone.