When Elves Sing Pt3 END

Elfen Lied-fanfic. Set after the end of the series. What became of Lucy and the others at Kaede House after the events in the series? For that matter, what will happen to the diclonius race?
Third and final part of a story that is now finished at long last.
(Lucy/Aiko, Nana/Mayu)

Read WHEN ELVES SING PT3 END

Disclaimer: see part 1.





When Elves Sing Pt3 END
-------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson








When Lucy had officially made Nana her younger sister and second in command in both the Diclonius Foundation and what the world at large considered their ‘family company’, Nana had not imagined it would entail accepting interviews and appearing on talk shows in Lucy’s place and on behalf of her entire species, yet here she was. Fortunately the years had given Nana experience with these things so that she had little cause for concern, in fact some things even amused her secretly, like the perfectly coiffed hostess covering up what had just before the show been barely concealed boredom with excessive enthusiasm and interest that really wasn’t going to land her a better job anytime soon.

Nana herself was impeccably dressed, though too formally so, in dark blues and a slash of warm pink, knowing well how this made her appear far less forbidding and intimidating than Lucy’s style of all-black and all-strict business wardrobe. It was for the sake of all their kind that Nana, with her usually friendly smile and more accessible appearance, was the public image of the Blackhorn family and the Diclonius Foundation. Lucy, sometimes without really meaning to, tended to frighten people... a lot.

She answered questions with a warm and pleasant voice, keeping an honest face and the impression of something like the friendly woman next door, smiling a lot and even laughing slightly at the hostess quite tired attempt at a joke earlier. While this would have been in her nature to do anyway, sadly it was a quite calculated thing in situations like these. Inwardly she sighed and wished, if only briefly, that it was over so she could go home and just hug her wife.

“...the first Kaede House. As you all know, ‘Kaede House’ are the dormitory-like buildings where upper teenage diclonii live during their school years until they are ready to live on their own, as good adult members of society.” The question had been about the commonly called ‘diclonii-town’ in Kamakura, and why this specific part of the country has such a higher concentration of diclonius girls than anywhere else in Japan. Nana hedged the question slightly, her reply focusing on the first Kaede House and its later companions, where the older children had been housed while adapting to life among humans, as if that was the reason. It was only part of it though, as in truth the area around Kamakura held a higher diclonius birth-rate than any other place in Japan, but thanks to many humans still opting to abandon their newborns to the Foundation the actual numbers was something the public had no knowledge of.

“While we are building Kaede Houses and schools on several locations around the country, the concentration of diclonius in Kamakura will likely always be a bit higher than in other places, mainly because it is convenient but also because the people in Kamakura tend to be very understanding and accepting of little diclonius girls.” Nana smiled and waved at the camera as if she was sending a greeting to the people of her hometown. “I’m sure the other cities we have located in will prove to be stable and understanding environments for our little girls as well, aside from a bit of initial growing pains. And if nothing else, our presence means a lot of employment possibilities and should do some good for the local economy.”

“Ah yes, the unemployment rate does seem to have dropped quite a bit in all places where the Diclonius Foundation has established itself.” The hostess made no secret out of reading from her card. “We have a representative from one of the cities you recently announced as a future location for a Kaede House with us today, let's see if he has anything to say?” She twirled around and pointed to a lean man that looked uncomfortable in his ‘on TV’ finery.

The gruff-sounding man asked several questions about job opportunities in both the long and short term that the Diclonius Foundation was bringing, and Nana replied as best she could, referring him to the websites for both Blackhorn Corporated and the Diclonius Foundation for specific details in his particular town, but also promised to speak with him privately after the show. It was with a silent sigh of resignation Nana made that offer, knowing it meant at least an additional hour before she would be able to go home, but also aware of the public image she was building with personal offers like these. This man, his eyes suddenly alight with a touch of shrewdness knowing he would get a chance at a personal recommendation by her, was far from the first person she had more or less handed out a job to in this fashion, nor would he be the last. As with most things, they were counting on this little bit of positive reputation she was garnering to help counter the instinctively negative and fearful response that was a natural reaction to their kind for most humans, although Nana did not like having to think like that.

“Why do you need to build your schools and dorms in Japanese cities anyway?” A husky young man asked as he raised his arm, sounding and appearing merely curious despite his words. “Why not stay on those islands of yours?”

“The Blackhorn Islands, while thankfully large enough to house our Japanese little ones for now, are hardly big enough or have the kind of infrastructure for someone to live their entire lives on.” Nana smiled at the boy, a bit thankful that the question was asked without malice as it often tended to. Curious children that wanted to understand was a large part of why she agreed to come to this show after all. “Despite what you might read in the papers the Blackhorn Islands are far from a country of their own, so that would just not be feasible. And besides, all our little ones are Japanese, conceived, born and bred, surely you would agree that they have a right to live on the mainland as well?”

The young man smiled back at her and nodded, either satisfied with the brief explanation or having just received the reply he had expected. An older man with dark eyes and greying hair leaned forward in one of the lounge chairs that was spread in a loose circle around the tiny dais where Nana and the hostess were seated, signifying the special guests present for the show. The contempt virtually poured out of him even before he spoke, making Nana suppress a shudder and eye him with hidden wariness.

“Rights, you say?” He smirked slightly, barely enough for the cameras to catch. “Isn’t it rather ironic to be talking about rights when it is true that you... Diclonius... have claimed not to be subject to Japanese law?” His eyes gleamed as he spoke, and Nana recalled that he was a particularly zealously religious politician whom was trying to make a name for himself recently by his anti-diclonius opinions. Sadly there were always people willing to listen to men like that and to the message of hate. “You cannot have rights without having obligations as well, nor can you have the rewards and benefits of civilized society without following its laws and regulations, any child knows that. Or are you saying that you Diclonius are above all that?”

His words caused a quiet chattering to break out on the benches behind him, with people both protesting his words and agreeing with him. The other special guests were louder in their arguments, and to Nana’s relief they were mostly arguing against him. Gathering herself quickly Nana gave the audience a wide and perfectly white smile while gesturing slightly for silence.

“You are of course referring to how Diclonius have been exempt from the law, and yes indeed also the rights, in Japan and many other countries around the world. In that you are partially right, and of course I agree with you, to have rights in a society you are also obliged to follow the rules of that society.” Nana put on the best innocently grateful look she could muster and matched her tone to that, mostly because she knew from experience with men like these that it would annoy him, but also because it would force him to work a bit for his venom. “You are very kind to bring that up, most people do not realize the problem, understandably, and it is something we are working on globally, Diclonius and humans alike.”

She turned an earnest enough-looking face towards the show hostess and the camera, continuing. “While most people have heard of my sister’s declaration that we, the Diclonius of Japan, are not subject to Japanese law, not everyone knows the whole story behind that statement. It is simply that, again globally, we have jointly decided that while we as a people are not recognised to have equal rights or have the protection of the law that others do, we will not be held accountable by those laws.” She gave a small smile, more of a quirk of the lips really, to emphasize her words. “If the part of the law which is meant to protect a person’s rights does not apply to a Diclonius child, then the part which is meant to restrict or punish should not either. It is quite understandable, yes?”

“It is much like the situation in the past, when the law was applied differently to people judging on their skin colour, their ethnic group or sexuality, as you can imagine.” Nana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pretended that she didn’t notice the dark glare from the man whose thunder she’d temporarily stolen. He’d probably get a second wind for his message of hate any moment now, but she was determined not to be goaded by him. “We have people, Diclonius and humans alike, all over the world right now that are actively petitioning both local government and the UN to oversee the laws, and amend the Human Rights to apply to Diclonius as well.” She smiled a little smile of honest gratitude out towards the audience and the cameras. “Progress is being made, thankfully, and if I may I would like to say that I am personally grateful to each and every person that take a stand, in whatever way, towards gaining equal rights to all of us as people.”

There was a moment where Nana’s focus went inward. To her side she could feel as much as see that hateful man sneer and open his mouth to deliver his poison, just as she could feel the audience still hanging onto her words. She calculated what to say next, and inside she regretted that it came down to doing just that, but this too was part of the responsibility she held for the future of her kind. It wasn’t pleasant and not what she would have wanted, but she had accepted it long ago. She took a deep breath and made sure the camera would catch her doing so.

“But I know that for many, what I just said amounts to so much abstract talk. It is hard to follow just how important these things are without an example to clarify things.” She gazed out seriously at audience and cameras alike. This was only a moderately popular TV-show, but her next few words were sure to rocket sections if not all of this particular episode onto other shows, like news broadcasts and debates, on all sorts of networks, and into online media and newspapers. “In the hopes of making things clearer to all of you, I am going to tell you something I have never spoken publicly about before.”

She saw the exact moment realization hit the talkshow hostess eyes, lighting them up with an ambitious hunger as the woman saw the opportunity before her. A few frantic gestures from her and every camera in the studio focused on Nana, while the hostess grabbed the chance to become the one that got inside information from one the Blackhorn sisters with both hands and a slightly maniacal smile. For a brief moment Nana idly wondered just how unhappy the woman must be with her current job.

“While it is fairly common knowledge that the Blackhorn name was given me by my sister upon being adopted into her family, it might surprise some to hear that Nana was not always my name.” Pink eyes reached out to everyone watching, no longer calculating or performing, but honest in remembered pain. “I was once simply nanaban, number seven, and that is where the name I now go by stems from. I was the seventh of the diclonius children subjected to experimental...”

-----------------------------

Nana’s account for her early years as a laboratory specimen, while actually brief and not going into any great and painfully gory detail, had indeed been the conversational bomb she had expected it to be. The show itself had dragged on longer than intended because of it, and with the additional time she had to spend, Nana did not manage to get out of there for a fairly long time. By the time she made it to her car she was exhausted and wanted little else than to nod off as the chauffeur drove her to the waiting helicopter.

She realized what was waiting for her the moment the car stopped at the platform, sensing the person inside before she ever even touched the doors to the helicopter – black, as everything else her sister made or bought – and certainly long before she saw the person sitting there waiting for her.

They smiled at each other but said nothing as their transportation lifted from the platform to set off for their island home. Nana had not expected Lucy to be there, but once she started giving out personal information on that random talkshow, well, she really should have she supposed.

As they left the city behind Lucy shook her head slightly, her smile turning a bit wry. “That certainly stirred things up, Nana.”

“Mm, it sure did.” She gave her sister a knowing look. “Just like you intended me to do, right?” Lucy had never said a word about it, but Nana had still figured out what the general idea was. Over the years they had come to work like that, intuitively understanding what the other’s plan was and what was needed from them, without words.

“You stirred up the hornet’s nest a few months ago with that blanket statement about the law, and let the world stew on that without a word of explanation. It was about time for me to step in and provide that explanation, for maximum effect... yes?”

It had taken some time, when they were younger and Nana new to her place in the organization, before Nana realized that Lucy’s blundering and heavy-handed intimidation was, at least sometimes, intentional, and with the purpose of creating an opening for Nana to step in and smooth things over. Lucy set herself up to be the dark one, the unreasonable, the intimidating and disliked one, so that Nana could be the voice of reason, the approachable and diplomatic one... the one that was liked. It was their working dynamic and it worked well for them indeed, but it made Nana sad at times as she knew that this dark portrayal mirrored Lucy’s views of herself. She had honestly forgiven Lucy years ago, but Lucy would probably never truly forgive herself.

“Of course.” Those pink eyes so similar to Nana’s own gazed upon Nana with affection and pride, until an expression of regret crossed them. “I didn’t expect you to go into such...” Lucy frowned and looked away briefly. “...personal detail. I thought you would speak of the forced euthanasia of diclonius infants, or the blatant stealing of them for lab experiments, not...” Lucy grimaced and let the words fade away. Nana knew what she meant.

“I know. And I did speak of those things as well, but...” It was Nana’s turn to make a face. “A survivor’s account, even a brief one, has a bit more weight.”

“You are so brave.” Lucy sighed. “I could not do what you did.”

They shared a silent look of understanding. No, the past weighed far too heavily on Lucy for her to make herself vulnerable that way, and dwelling on past crimes, past pain, was a good way to stir that murderous rage she kept firmly in check these days. By and large, Lucy still hated humanity, or at least most of it, and she always would.

“You certainly silenced that putrid little man but good.” Lucy teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t think he got another word in after that.”

“Oh please,” Nana made a silly face and waved it away. “as if that ignorant little man and his hate was all that important. He wasn’t the reason I spoke about the past. More importantly...” She pointed at what appeared to be an oversized cooler. “just what is that?”

“That...” Lucy chuckled. “is what my wife ordered me to buy and bring for when your wife has cravings. As you can imagine, it is mostly ice-cream.”

“Goodness.” Nana laughed a little herself. “I can imagine. There are times I’m convinced our daughter will be born frozen solid from all that ice-cream.”

“Consider yourself fortunate that Mayu’s cravings are as normal as they are. Ai mostly ate french-fries in horrible combinations with things like pickles and chocolate sauce.” They both shuddered a little in remembrance. “I was convinced I was going to be the proud ‘father’ of a pink french-fry.”

“And yet my little niece is a happily perfect, healthy and beautiful little girl.” The wide smile that the thought of her adorable niece brought to Nana’s lips faded suddenly with another alarming thought. “Uh oh.”

“I was wondering when you’d realize.” Lucy smirked.

“Maybe she didn’t watch the show?” Nana tried, hopefully. “Yuka is probably busy preparing for Kohta to take care of the kids on his own before she’s supposed to come here to be with Mayu, she probably didn’t have the time to watch television.”

Lucy snorted. “You know full well she not only watched it, she recorded it as well. Yuka saves anything you appear in on television or in the papers.”

Indeed Yuka’s maternal behaviour towards Nana and Mayu didn’t stop when the two girls grew up, moved out and got married, not in the slightest. Yuka kept diligent tabs on both of her ‘daughters’, and was even scheduled to come stay with them as Mayu’s due date grew near, as support.

“I’d say that she’ll be contacting me sometime before tomorrow morning to demand that I arrange her transport.” Lucy grinned a bit wickedly, but patted Nana’s knee in a sympathetic gesture. “I suggest you get prepared before then, and I don’t mean just the guestroom.”

Nana feigned a pout at her sister, but it soon melted into a happy little smile mirrored by Lucy. They sat in comfortable silence the last tiny stretch of the way, simply smiling contentedly as they watched through the windows as the island that had been so many things to them in their lives, meant so many things to each of them, rapidly grew closer.

The island that now, because of the family that awaited them both there, was simply home.

An Evening Visit

DOCTOR WHO-fanfic. It was supposed to be a quiet evening on Paternoster row, but when you're friends with a time-traveller, anything can happen.
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY, with brief mention of the DOCTOR/RIVER SONG)

Read AN EVENING VISIT

Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and the other characters from Doctor Who all belong to BBC and perhaps some other people as well, unfortunately I have no clue. Once again thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, please be kind enough to give us more of them? Like a series of their very own? ^_^




An Evening Visit
-------------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




It started out as such an ordinary day on Paternoster row. Not even the Great Detective had cases all the time, so on this particular day Vastra, Jenny and Strax were enjoying some peaceful time at home, all gathered in front of Vastra’s favourite fireplace.

The most adventurous thing that had happened so far that day was that when Jenny entered the room she found Vastra fully engaged in her latest fashion attempt – wearing spectacles while she read. It was not that she needed them, oh no, Vastra had perfect Silurian vision, far superior to that of any mammal, she merely thought they might make her look more elegant while engaged in a book in front of the fire.

Vastra did not, however, have ears to hang the delicate golden contraption from.

After growing tired of watching her wife struggle with the spectacles, Jenny finally told Vastra that she was being a silly old lizard, removed the glasses and gave them to Strax. Before her wife could begin to pout and be upset, Jenny then sat in her lap and proceeded to tell her of all the many ways in which Vastra was elegant and beautiful all in her own self, and how she needed no enhancing trinkets to show that. This, interspersed with kisses and giggles, carried on for quite some time.

Strax paid it no mind, used to such behaviour from the two women by now, and instead inspected the glasses thoroughly before removing the lenses, twisting and reshaping the frame into something else before reattaching the lenses. With a satisfied nod he then lumbered up the stairs with his new creation, to continue his latest crafting project in his own room where he had a box of similarly reworked supplies – his loot, as Jenny called it. All manner of bits and bobs ended up there, to either be remade into simple – and often unfinished – weaponry, or into small figures and resources for his strategy board.

One never knew when they might need one, Strax figured, for unplanned declarations of war or conquest. In the meantime he practiced strategies on it, only to be better prepared when the day came, of course.

When she found out about it Jenny had taken to giving Strax little things for his strategy board every once in a while. It pleased him that she understood and approved of the need to be prepared. For the holiday of Crisis-mass Strax had even received from her an entire box of tiny tin soldiers, perfect for creating human armies with. And once she saw the painted wooden crocodile in a doll dress that Strax used to represent Vastra with, Jenny took great care and effort into making small representations of herself, Vastra and Strax to give him. The crocodile she threw into the fireplace and made Strax promise to never tell Vastra about.

It was into this tableau, with Strax tinkering away in his room and Vastra and Jenny snuggling on the couch, that the Tardis silently materialised.

Vastra and Jenny barely had the time turn to stare at the blue construction that suddenly appeared in the corner of the room, before the door was flung open and the Doctor hurled himself through to a multitude of whistling, hooting and jingling.

“Vastra! Jenny!” He cheered loudly, flinging his arms out and blowing once again on the strange contraption hung around his neck that hooted and whistled. “Congratulations!” He tossed the instrument over his shoulder and peered around at the room. “Am I early?”

“No matter!” Grinning wildly he scurried back and pulled out a trolley overloaded with things from inside the Tardis. “See, I brought supplies!”

He undid the strings to a pair of pink balloons and bounded over to Vastra, who was too stunned to do anything but stand there obediently as he placed one balloon in each of her hands, and then he hugged her.

“Always the dark horse, you old rogue!” He laughed and clasped her shoulder in camaraderie, and managed to fasten a shiny purple party hat, complete with tiny stars and tinsel, upon her head before stepping back. “Always doing the impossible.”

“And you...” He turned to Jenny and took her face in both hands as both his voice and his expression gentled. “Bless.” He murmured and kissed the top of her head.

As Jenny twitched slightly in confusion yet still did her best to put on a brave smile – and Vastra glared at the Doctor for taking liberties with her wife – the happy man spun about and placed a matching set of pink balloons into Jenny’s hands, and a sparkly pink hat on her head.

“There!” He declared, admiring his handiwork. “Now the two of you look the part, at least.” He pulled the trolley forward a bit, gesturing to it with pride. “I brought all the decorations needed, and party hats to go around. Oh, and wait ‘til you see the cake!” He waved back at the open Tardis door. “It is just the coolest.”

He pranced around until he could lay an arm around each of their shoulders before continuing with great enthusiasm. “I’ve gotten bubbly that really bubbles and fizzy drinks that really fizzle, and a pudding that dances the Macarena!” He released them and rubbed his hands. “It is rainbow chocolate and toffee flavoured.”

“Oh, almost forgot!” He dashed back to the cart and rummaged around in one of the boxes. “Aha! There.” He came back over to Jenny and, while hiding something in one hand, gently cupped one of hers with the other. “I got this for the lady of the hour.”

Into Jenny’s hand he placed a palm-sized green egg made from some rubbery material. It tinkled slightly as it was jostled, a tiny bell-like sound.

Jenny and Vastra both stared at it with round eyes. As the moment grew long and neither woman spoke or outwardly reacted, the Doctor’s wide grin began to falter, and he fidgeted.

“Well,” He tried and scratched his head. “it’s just a little toy. It wobbles. And there’s this... sound.”

“Um, Doctor?” Jenny asked meekly, still holding the little toy egg as if it was something fragile.

“There will be presents of course, real prezzies, a bit later.” His cheerfulness picked back up.

“Doctor?” Vastra tried instead.

“River is supposed to bring ‘em. In fact...” He frowned a little and looked around. “I thought she’d be here by now.”

“Doctor!”

He took a closer look at Jenny. “Say, you certainly slimmed up fast.” Appearing to realize that he might just have blundered into a sensitive subject he started to grimace and wave his hands about. “I mean, not that you were big before... at least not that big...”

“DOCTOR!”

“What! Yes! What?” He all but snapped to attention at Vastra’s bellow, but just as quickly relaxed his posture again, looking at them in confusion.

“Wha... why...” Vastra sighed and tried to gather herself. “What is going on here?”

He looked at them, tilted his head to the side and scratched at it again. “Your baby shower, of course. Or, hatchling shower. Or... egg shower, no that sounds bad – the celebration of your baby soon being in the world... thingy.”

The women in the room blinked slowly while the Doctor waited, unusually patient for him, in silence for them to speak.

“Doctor...” Jenny managed after a while, speaking slowly and carefully. “’ave you ‘it your ‘ead recently? What baby?”

“Yours and Vastra’s, of course.”

“But... you know that’s not possible.” Jenny looked at Vastra, bewildered. “’E knows that’s not possible, right?”

“Hey, it’s not like I had anything to do with it.” He protested mildly. “You two did your... humanly silurianly... thingy, and some time later, out pops little Eggwardine and I’m an uncle, and...”

Jenny mouthed ‘Eggwardine’ with a touch of horror, while Vastra snorted a bit in frustration.

“Doctor, you know that Jenny and I cannot have a child together.” She sounded a bit testy, but the slight, not all human, twitching movement she did with her head betrayed that the subject was one that pained her. “Silurians and humans are completely different species, for one.”

“Pishposh, oooh, nice word that, pishposh, I’ll have to use that more often...” He gave Vastra his widest grin. “Bottom line is, human-Silurian hybrids have been born before. Certainly not often, what with humans and Silurians usually being far too busy killing one another to get with the... baby-making thingies... but it has happened before.”

“And since when has the impossible ever stopped you before?” He gave her a double thumbs up.

These news stunned Vastra into silent immobility, so Jenny tried to take it from there. “What about the fact that we’re both... of the female persuasion?”

“Ha!” He waved that off like the answer was obvious. “I’m not surprised that doesn’t stop a Silurian female, and it certainly didn’t stop old Vastra here from getting you preggers, now did it?” He paused suddenly. “Hey wait a minute...”

“You know all this. We’ve talked about all of this before.” He blinked at them. “What time is this?”

“Honestly, sweetie...” A fourth voice broke in, exasperated. “I can’t let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?”

The Doctor winced and Jenny jumped as River Song walked in from somewhere to the side, dressed for a party. Only Vastra did not react as River strode up to the Doctor and grabbed him by the ear.

“Ow!” He made a sheepish face towards Vastra and Jenny. “Oops. Sorry girls.” River turned him around and gave him a slight push towards the trolley. “I’ll just be leaving now.”

River rolled her eyes a bit and smirked at Vastra and Jenny. “The only thing in creation that is truly impossible is that husband of mine.” She sighed a little, but it was an affectionate sound. “Right then, you two... remember to tell me about all this when the time comes, and to have me give him twenty minutes.”

“You’ll know when.” River added when Jenny was about to ask. “See you later then.”

With that she turned and marched into the Tardis while shouting. “I’ll drive this time!”

The blue door closed behind her, and all was silence for a moment. Then the door flung open again and the Doctor came rushing out.

“Sorry,” He looked apologetic as he took their balloons and little party hats away. “but you’ll get them right back! In, uhm, in a bit.”

Another mad dash into the Tardis, and this time the great blue box soundlessly shimmered out of existence.

Leaving Jenny and Vastra standing there, staring at a corner of the room in silence, until a tiny tinkle drew their attention. As one their eyes turned to the wobbly green egg in Jenny’s hand.

Jenny blushed, hard.

From Vastra there was a tiny noise, and then the tall, proud warrior simply fainted, sliding to the floor in a boneless heap while her wife yelped in surprise.

Strax stuck his head through the doorway to stare at them. “Did I miss anything?”

Elementary Errors

DOCTOR WHO-fanfic. Vastra does not approve of other people approaching her Jenny.
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY)

Read ELEMENTARY ERRORS

Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to whomever owns the rights to Doctor Who, of course. Not sure who that might be right now, but BBC for sure at least. Thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, now please give them their own little mini-series... pretty please? :P
Sort of leads up to the “Vastra Investigates” minisode/prequel to the Doctor Who episode “The Snowmen”.
Also, I know that the real-life person Inspector Abberline is based on was married at this point in time, and that chances are that the Doctor Who Abberline is meant to be as well, but, well, it is a bit of creative license on my part. Hope nobody minds.





Elementary Errors
-------------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




Upon their initial meeting, Vastra did not immediately think that Jenny Flint was beautiful. She learned rather quickly that Jenny was different from all the other pink, smelly and generally stupid apes that infested the Earth in the absence of her people, but that was all in regards to her inner qualities, such as Jenny’s intelligence or her bravery – and yes, perhaps her scent as well. Even from the very start, Jenny had smelled divine to Vastra.

The thought that Jenny was beautiful in appearance as well came later, much later, when Vastra was already head over heels in love and rather at a loss at what to do about it. And even then it seemed a natural thing that Jenny was beautiful beyond compare in Vastra’s eyes, and Vastra’s eyes only... what others thought of her incredible human’s appearance did not occur to Vastra at all.

As time passed she began to notice how some people reacted around Jenny, and drew – always later, much later, which was all in all probably a good thing – the conclusion that these mammals were attracted to her Jenny. Her Jenny.

Vastra didn’t quite like the idea. At least no-one dared to approach Jenny that she knew of.

And then... she was approached by that fool of an Inspector.

Inspector Frederick Abberline of Scotland Yard. A respectable man, as human males go, and friendly enough, moderately open-minded and accommodating towards Vastra and her unique situation, yes, but not the keenest mind around. Vastra wasn’t sure in how many more ways she could explain or spell it out to him that she was a Silurian, not merely some disfigured ape, and moreover that Jenny was her mate.

It was after a case solved, the other officers had left and Jenny had disappeared into the house while Vastra and Abberline were wrapping things up in the drawing room. Suddenly the man faltered, glanced towards the empty doorway, and leaned in towards Vastra with a peculiar look upon his face.

“Madam Vastra, about Miss Jenny...” Abberline began awkwardly, looking abashed yet strangely hopeful. Vastra did not understand his behaviour enough to be worried, merely found it slightly curious. “That is, if I may be so bold...”

“What is it, Inspector?” She urged mildly when the man’s speech tapered off again. What about her Jenny?

“Just Abberline now, ma’am, I’m not asking as a man of the law.” He hurried to assure her, for what reason she could not fathom. “About Miss Jenny, ma’am... is she... stepping out with some fellow?”

Confused, Vastra looked towards the door, trying to hear if Jenny was heading towards the front entrance for some reason, but she could distantly hear her rummaging around in the kitchen while singing to herself, so of course not. What did the Inspector mean?

“Ah.” He caught the confused look and tried again. “Does she have a gentleman friend?”

A gentleman friend? Vastra thought that was even stranger to ask. Her Jenny had friends, of course, although those from their own time era tended not to be that close, and then there was the fact that with a few exceptions, Jenny did not really befriend men. So a gentleman friend?

“No.” Was the logical answer, although Vastra supposed that one might consider the Doctor a gentleman of sorts. She wouldn’t want to have to explain that though, so it was better to keep it simple. “No, she does not. Why do you ask?”

Her first ‘no’ had sparked a beaming hopeful look in the man, a rather disturbing sight Vastra thought, and her question made him look bashful, wringing his hands together in front of him while looking at his feet.

“Oh, I realize that Miss Jenny is a fair bit younger than myself, ma’am. And that she is great bit more beautiful than a fellow like me deserves. But...” He glanced up at Vastra and straightened slightly before his eyes shifted away again. “I’m successful in my chosen profession, and I earn a good, honest living. I might not be a rich man, but she would want for nothing, with me, and I’d make an honest woman out of her, if it came to that.”

Frowning deeply, Vastra tried to decipher the man’s meaning. “Honest? Are you saying that my Jenny is somehow dishonest?” She did not notice herself that she had slipped right into her most intimidating mode, glaring at the blushing Inspector. “And what exactly is it that you feel that she should lack or want for now?”

“Ah, no, no.” Abberline backpedalled nervously. “I didn’t mean... I simply meant...” He wiped his hands on the sides of his jacket before straightening it, most likely without noticing it himself. “I meant to say, if Miss Jenny isn’t already seeing a fellow...” He caught Vastra’s look and continued even more nervously. “Fancying a lad...”

“Dating someone?” By the end he was almost desperate, but Vastra’s sudden shock must have been confirmation that she finally grasped what he was saying. “Then I might ask her if she would consider going out with me, perhaps on a stroll and a visit to the new coffeehouse next time I am off from work?”

For a moment Vastra felt as if all the air in the room, indeed all the air in the building, had compressed upon her head, pushing down with force. She had the uncomfortable feeling that her mouth was open and jaw working without a sound leaving her lips. It took a long moment for her to process the meaning of all this and what Inspector Abberline’s intentions were, but once she did she could feel the flames of rage igniting within.

“Or would Miss Jenny be more inclined to accompany me if I ask her out to something fancier?” The clueless man rattled on, not noticing how Vastra’s hand instinctively reached for her sword, only to twitch helplessly as the blade was not there. “I could...”

“She is married.” Vastra blurted, quite without either thought or grace.

“...that is...” The Inspector blinked, the confusion his this time around. “Pardon? What was that?”

“She is married.” Vastra repeated, a little more in control of herself now, but still very much wanting to rip Inspector Abberline limb from limb. “Wed.” She glared at Abberline. “Bespoused.”

“A-are you saying that she is...”

“That she is married.” As she spoke Vastra took a warning step forward, her narrowed eyes a danger that would have lesser men – or at least smarter men – quickly find reason to be elsewhere. “Yes.”

“My word.” Abberline frowned, clearly thinking hard. “Are you quite sure?”

“Indeed I am.” In Vastra’s opinion the Inspector did not look nearly alarmed or frightened enough. She took another step and let her voice take on a steely intensity that by rights should cut the male in half. “Married.”

“Because I think-“

“MARRIED!” Vastra bellowed in fury, suddenly looming over Abberline, so close that the man instinctively leaned back to get away.

Somewhere deep inside his psyche a small frightened mammal was covering before a roaring reptilian predator, and finally even Inspector Abberline was overtaken by the natural urge to run for his life. “Oh good lord,” He muttered under his breath as he scrambled to the door, all sense of dignity forgotten. “oh good lord!”

Vastra whipped around to glare after him as he left, fighting the urge to hiss and lash out with her venom. With heavy steps she followed out into the hallway, but the Inspector could be quite the fast little weasel when properly motivated.

With her emotions in turmoil and trembling from a surge of adrenaline yet robbed of the intended outlet, Vastra lumbered on towards the kitchen and the scent and warmth of her beloved.

“What ‘appened?” Jenny asked as she put a serving tray down on the counter and turned towards Vastra. “I ‘eard such a racket.”

Jenny’s eyes widened as she noticed the state her wife was in, but she didn’t get the chance to ask as Vastra lumbered across the floor, engulfed her wife in her arms, and kissed her ardently.

“Oh!” Jenny gasped after a long, intense moment, and then giggled as gloved hands wandered. “Really, darling? The kitchen?”

There came an answering giggle from the area of Jenny’s neck, before there was a brief nip, and then lips were quite eagerly otherwise occupied.

------------------

“...I fell in love.” Vastra finished her brief explanation, giving her lovely wife a besotted look. Jenny’s smile was small but pleased in response and there was a soft look in dark eyes that promised things, later, when they were alone.

“What, with the Turkish fellow?” Inspector Abberline asked with mild interest, breaking the moment and once again proving his enduring stupidity.

Vastra blinked and Jenny froze, neither quite sure how they ought to react. Vastra had after all only just finished explaining, once again, that Strax was in fact not any kind of ‘Turkish fellow’, so it was perhaps not so surprising that he had failed to notice that Vastra had very clearly wanted to kiss her wife just then.

“No.” Vastra managed finally, her voice somewhat strained. “Not with the Turkish fellow.” She wrapped an arm around her beloved and leaned in, proudly claiming her wife, while Jenny beamed.

For a moment Vastra felt sure he was not going to get it this time either, and wondered if she should simply kiss Jenny. She was after all still a bit sore with Abberline for his intention to proposition her mate. Then the unbelievable happened.

“Oh... good lord.” Inspector Abberline gasped and blinked. “Oh good lord.”

Vastra, immensely pleased, couldn’t contain a burst of giggling laugher at that. Triumph at last.

She lowered her hand somewhat and gently urged her giggling wife away, delighted when Jenny got a little playfully demonstrative herself as they left.

Take that, you silly ape.

Of Love and Weaponry

DOCTOR WHO-fanfic. She might be small for a human female, but the wrath and jealousy of Jenny Flint were forces that not even Vastra would overlook.
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY)

Read OF LOVE AND WEAPONRY

Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to whomever owns the rights to Doctor Who, of course. Not sure who that might be right now, but BBC for sure at least. Thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, now please give them their own little mini-series... pretty please? :P




Of Love and Weaponry
--------------------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




”What, pray tell, are you doing with that?” She asked somewhat warily, watching the petite woman hefting the rather large weapon.

“Preparin’.” Was the terse answer, just barely gritted out from bared teeth as tiny knobs were pulled, switches switched, and various indicators blinked and beeped upon the shiny metal casing.

Jenny Flint was in quite a mood.

“The Doctor gave us that for emergencies only, dear.” Vastra tried again, torn between caution – Jenny’s temper was not to be trifled with, for all her deceptive size, Vastra knew – and amusement and not quite certain what had brought this on. There was a small element of arousal as well, of course, seeing her beloved handling weaponry tended to have that effect on her.

“T’is an emergency.” Jenny growled darkly, dangerously, and not noticing the small smile she brought to green lips. “If that... man” Vastra admired the venom and utter contempt Jenny managed to pack into that one small word. “thinks ‘e can come ‘ere with ‘is filthy words an’ greasy ‘ands... there will be an emergency.” She hefted her much too large weapon threateningly. “A big one.”

A quiet sigh of relief escaped Vastra as she realized that at least it was not she that had unwittingly brought her beloved’s ire upon herself, this time.

“While I agree with your assessment of Lord Collins, dear, and will quite happily have him mysteriously disappear if you wish it,” She flashed a winning smile at the frowning woman, whose expression rather despite herself softened slightly at the sight. “this...” Vastra put a careful hand on one of the barrels. “will take most of our lovely house along with him, as well as a fair chunk of the neighbourhood.” She paused and smirked a little at Jenny. “I hardly feel that this vermin of a male warrants that large a sacrifice from us.” A slight pause. “Do you, my dear?”

A reluctant grunt is her reply, before Jenny has released the weapon and allowed Vastra to deftly pluck it away. She crosses her arms moodily over her chest as Vastra quickly runs her fingers over switches and settings until the weapon is idle.

One weapon neutralized, Vastra thinks as she places it just out of sight in a nearby doorway, leaving it there for Strax to retrieve, and one more to go. And her beloved requires a bit more effort to disarm, and, Vastra proudly admits to herself, is probably nearly as dangerous if detonated.

“Try to endure his presence for now.” She says soothingly to the huffy figure that is currently glaring at their front entrance as if the doors themselves had committed the gravest of offence. “The Inspector has to bring him because of this case, but I doubt they will linger more than they need to. The case is all but solved, and after we are unlikely to cross paths with Lord Collins again.”

“You didn’t ‘ear what ‘e said.” Jenny growled again, causing Vastra to smile at her fondly. “You didn’t ‘ear what ‘e said about you.”

“That he boasted that he would, how did he put it? Free me from the sad solitude of a widow’s life, and add my fortune and London fame to his own? I believe he said something to that effect.” Vastra’s lips twisted a bit in disgust, but she was still more faintly amused by his ignorance than she was offended by his arrogance. She placed little importance to people of his sort anyway. “I overheard him speaking to one of his companions last time we met.”

“You didn’t ‘ear the rest of it then?” Jenny’s dark eyes bored into Vastra’s pale blue ones intently. “You didn’t ‘ear what ‘e said ‘bout you, what ‘e said ‘ed... do to you.”

Vastra blinked slowly. No, indeed she had not heard anything along the lines of what Jenny’s anger and expression suggested, although she could imagine the gist of it, and she wouldn’t have thought Lord Collins to be quite that bold. It wouldn’t really have mattered to her unless he tried something with her in person, at which point Vastra would put him in his place of course, but this... that impudent little man had upset Vastra’s mate, and for that she might just have to make good on her earlier words of a sudden disappearance.

Gently she pulled Jenny to her feet and wrapped her arms around her. Jenny shuddered a little and returned the embrace.

“Be brave, little one.” Vastra murmured into a nearby pink ear. “Today’s meeting will be as short as I can make it, after which he shan’t have reason to come near us again. And if he returns for any other purpose...” She smirked, knowing that Jenny would hear it even if she could not see it. “Well, you shan’t have to cook for me that day.”

Jenny chuckled quietly, as Vastra knew she would, and they drew apart slightly to look at one another.

“They will be here any moment now.” Vastra sighed regretfully, she would much rather have spent the day attending her beloved and her upset feelings, but these little charades with Scotland Yard and the like were, unfortunately, a necessity of the profession they had chosen. Or that had chosen them, Vastra was unsure of which claim would be more true, honestly. “We had best prepare.”

“Alright. I’ll bring the tea to the study.” Jenny acquiesced, but spared one last dark, serious look at Vastra. “If ‘e so much as touches you though...”

Her reply was a tinkling little laugh and a loving kiss placed on the top of her head, before Jenny relented and made her way towards the kitchen.

She didn’t see Vastra nimbly pick up the hidden weapon and on quick and silent feet secure it under coded lock on the other side of the building.

-----------------

It very nearly could have been over and done with without too much of an incident, well, without outright threat of violence at least, but alas it was not to be. Lord Collins, whether emboldened by the presence of the companion he had brought despite the Inspector’s protests, or the generous glass of fine whisky that he served himself from Vastra’s decanter display, decided to act quite... foolishly.

He had, almost from the moment he stepped inside the door, hovered just shy of outright rudeness with his suggestive remarks veiled as flattery. Vastra had ignored him for most part, feigned not to hear or notice his behaviour, or even openly ignored him to instead discuss the case with Inspector Abberline.

The Inspector, while not a bright man by any stretch, had eventually caught on enough to become embarrassed and tried to steer the conversation in a way that blocked any untoward comments. Once he realized that Lord Collins was availing himself to Vastra’s decanters quite unbidden he stumbled through an apology to the ladies present and then attempted to march the other men with him out of the house. It was a good attempt, but unfortunately it failed.

Lord Collins’ companion smoothly managed to derail the Inspector, luring him out ahead of them and allowing Lord Collins to remain behind with Vastra. Jenny was by convention rather forced to see the two men to the door, leaving Vastra alone with the smirking fellow who did not appear to have the slightest clue whom he was dealing with.

To be fair, it did not take long. Whatever was said or done in the study, it did not take long at all until Vastra, her bearing as commanding as it could get and her demeanour forbidding, threw open the door that had mysteriously closed once Jenny and the others had stepped away from it. Lord Collins staggered through it, his eyes wide and his face pale, while clutching at one wrist as if it was broken. Perhaps it was.

His momentum was brought to a halt by the sight of Jenny, lounging in a large settee in the hallway with one leg thrown over the other, wearing the tight pants, vest and boots outfit that might make other people of her era think that she was preparing to go riding.

She was also calmly polishing her katana.

Vastra’s annoyance faded and a small but delighted smile emerged, as the sight of her wife in tight pants and wielding a blade always tended to lift her spirit. It also made her wish she could just toss the annoying ape present through the nearest window, so that she could ravish this lovely woman of hers as was good and proper.

The blade twisted and twirled as Jenny peered down its length, ostensibly looking at its shiny edge. The end of it weaved lazily in the air quite close to Lord Collins, at first directed at his face but lowering with the twirls and twists until, with a few absent-minded jabs, it threatened the front of his pants.

Beaming with love and pride at her wife, Vastra didn’t care if she sounded unbearably smug. “As I said, Lord Collins... I am a quite happily married woman.”

Jenny glanced up at her and smirked, the two of them momentarily locked in that gaze while their visitor, beyond pale by now and with both hands protecting the front of his pants, tried very hard not to relieve himself.

Into this tableau Strax walked, his arms packed to overflowing with knives and blades of all kinds and sizes. “I brought them, as you requested.” He piled all the weapons onto the decorative table, picked up a few that spilled over, and turned to Jenny with an undeniably excited expression.

“Are we declaring war upon someone?” He asked eagerly, glancing from the weapons, to Jenny, to Vastra. “Is it the Moonites? Shall I fetch the grenades and acid fish?”

Then he noticed the man cowering next to them. “A-HA! It must be you, boy!” He quickly glanced at Vastra and Jenny to check if he had gotten the gender right this time. They both smiled at him, and Strax straightened himself a little bit, even happier now. “Are we to declare war upon this disgusting human?”

“Maybe.” Jenny smirked as Vastra gave her a brief mock reproachful look.

Strax’ grin was so wide it threatened to split his face, and he bounced slightly in place. “Really? I mean-“ He cleared his throat, then spun to point a threatening finger at Lord Collins while thundering with a surprisingly cheerful voice. “We declare war upon your House, filthy human scum!”

Vastra and Jenny had explained to him, repeatedly, that Earth was their planet too, so there would be no declaring war upon the home planet of anyone actually living on Earth. On some days Strax even remembered that, and had tried to adjust the traditional declaration accordingly.

Clasping Lord Collins’ shoulder with one large hand, Strax began waddling him down the hallway while loudly and happily extolling the skills and feats of them as Sontaran warriors – forgetting for a moment that neither Jenny nor Vastra were Sontaran – and informing the whimpering man alternately to dread and to look forward to their charge.

“Look at ‘im.” Jenny marvelled as she sheathed her sword. “’E’s so happy.” She looked at Vastra. “Couldn’t we let ‘im blow up ‘is privy at least?”

“Mmm. I suppose so.” Vastra paid not one ounce of attention to Strax or their visitor, she was quite busy staring increasingly hungrily at her incredibly delightful wife. “As long as no-one gets hurt.” She murmured absently, her eyes glued to her wife’s pretty pink lips.

Smiling to herself as she noticed Vastra’s preoccupation, Jenny put the sword aside and began pulling at Vastra’s long black gloves. “What did ‘e do?”

“He spouted some trite nonsense.” Vastra hummed in approval as Jenny removed one of the gloves and started in on the other. “Offered to take pity on my poor ostracized self and rescue me from widowhood.” The other glove came off. “And he grabbed at my posterior.”

The smile vanished from Jenny’s lips. “WHAT?!”

“Well he tried.” Vastra quickly tried to placate. “I believe I may have broken his arm in punishment.”

“Strax!” Jenny shouted, and the Sontaran froze in the doorway, one hand still holding Lord Collins in place outside while the other man desperately tried to flee. “You ‘eard about the privy?”

“Yes!” Strax called back happily. “I will blow it up magnificently!”

“Make sure Collins is close enough to be introduced to the contents, yeah?” Jenny requested evilly while trying to pretend that she hadn’t been reaching back for her sword.

Strax whooped in delight, let Lord Collins go while he howled after him. “LOOK FORWARD TO MY ACT OF WAR, FILTHY HUMAN!”

Then the door slammed, and Jenny and Vastra heard Strax cackling with glee as he ran on heavy feet towards his room to spend hours planning out his attack.

Once Strax was suitably far away and the two of them were alone, Vastra pulled Jenny to her feet and tightly into Vastra’s arms. Jenny wrapped her arms around Vastra’s neck, and then proved the superiority of pants by wrapping her legs around her wife as well.

They shared a smirk and a long, smouldering look before Vastra leaned in and inhaled, deeply, and murmured into Jenny’s ear. “Bed?”

Jenny growled back, playfully. “Bed.”

Blue-Eyed Monster

ORIGINAL. Why is she the only one to see what is lurking in the shadows?

Doesn't have a pairing yet, as such. As it is part of a longer story in my head, if I manage to write a sequel eventually it will have f/f though.

Read Blue-Eyed Monster

Disclaimer: None needed, my story. Might be a bit dark, I suppose, and doesn’t have a pairing as such... yet. If I manage to write a sequel one day it will.




Blue-Eyed Monster
-----------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




My eyes are blue.

They are in fact such a startling bright and intense blue that one would expect them to belong to some tall, pale, white-blonde person from a cold country far away. Although I fit the pale criteria, I am just an average height brunette, born in a big city far away from exotic cold places or anything of the like. In fact I’m kind of plain, a fact hammered into me in high school, when the relative attractiveness of my unusual eyes was something I was held accountable for by the more popular girls there.

This isn’t the reason to notice my eyes though. Not at all.

The real reason is far worse.

--------------

The first time I saw one of them I was very young. Too young to know that there was indeed a them, or to even remember now just how young that was, there was only him. I remember him.

It was dark and I wouldn’t have seen much at all if there hadn’t been a full moon shining in through the window. He stood over me, so tall, so large, and so unreal in the moonlight. His white hair blazed as it stood up from his head like he had been one of those funny characters in the Sunday morning cartoons, but there was nothing funny about him. Nothing human either.

His skin was pale and his fingers long, narrow claws that reached for me in the dark, and with that absolute certainty one rarely ever get to feel once childhood is over, I knew I was going to get eaten. His long fangs glinted in the light as he opened his mouth, preparing to gobble me up. It wasn’t that which scared me most.

It was his eyes. They were a burning red, a colour I had never seen on any person before, and even in only the moonlight I could tell that there was blood coming from them, like tears. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t run, and I couldn’t look away.

I stared right up into those eyes, waiting for the monster to eat me.

Because of that I didn’t miss his reaction. He froze, leaning over me, and frowned. Slowly his great maw became smaller and closed, hiding his sharp teeth as he stared down at me. His arms drew back as we stared at one another, and his expression changed.

He disappeared so quickly afterwards that I never knew how or where, and, unfrozen from his spell of silence, I screamed as loud as my tiny lungs would let me.

It was a nightmare, my parents told me, and for years I believed them. Contorted memories of that moment, of that night, visited my dreams often enough as a child that it didn’t seem like a lie. Somewhere deep in my heart though I knew it was, and I never forgot those bleeding red eyes in the moonlight.

It wasn’t until many years later that I realized that one of the expressions that fleeted past in that brief moment before he disappeared had been the most frightening of all. Not hunger, confusion or even fear.

Recognition.

--------------

The next time I saw one of them I was almost ten years old, convinced I was a big girl and straining to prove it to my parents the way children often do at that age. As I stood there at the bus stop with my mother in some part of town unknown to me and for a reason I’ve long since forgotten, the way her warm hand closed around mine when I sought it out was a shield against old nightmares come to life. It must have surprised her how I suddenly clung to her like that, how I was clingy with both my parents for days afterwards, but she never questioned it. She just smiled lovingly and reassuringly at her little girl.

Because she didn’t see them. She couldn’t.

I saw two of them that day at the bus stop, two ghoulishly white figures standing cloaked in the shadows between the buildings across the street. They stood right there, staring at me with their glowing red eyes, shaded but otherwise fully visible by a fairly busy street where people were coming and going as I watched. No-one else ever looked their way. No-one else saw them.

The bus came and I hurried my mother to get us both on it, heart pounding in my ears and tears stinging at my eyes. The last I saw of those two were their pale, hairless heads turning as one to continue staring at me as the bus drove away. I learned two things that day.

My nightmares are real, and I am the only one that can see them.

--------------

For years afterwards I stayed in the parts of town well known to me, I was obedient and well-behaved, never tried to go off on childhood adventures or stayed out after dark. I kept my head down and my eyes to myself, while developing a way to always carefully observe my surroundings out of the corner of my eye. My parents were pleased with me this way, the only concern they had was that my fear of the dark returned that day at the bus stop and never really left, but they were kind and understanding, and did not make a big deal out of their daughter sleeping with a light on.

They of course did not know of my nightly inspections of doors, windows and vents, the many nights I crept through the house to make sure that they and my little brother were safe as they slept, or the nights I spent simply awake, clutching my flashlight and a pathetically small pocketknife as I stared at the window in my room.

Nothing ever came for us there, and by the age of thirteen I was beginning to relax a little, beginning to doubt what I knew and what I had seen. Problems with girls at school took up more of my thoughts than the fear of catching sight of something pale and menacing hiding in the shadows. That was the summer we went to visit relatives in the capital.

My cousin was two and a half years older than I, and I idolized her. She was pretty and popular and bold and all the things I was not, but she liked me anyway. We had spent two weeks there with me being her shadow, but rather than being annoyed with me my cousin always smiled brightly and dragged me along to show me something else, something new. My parents adored her for it, for helping their awkward little girl out of her shell, that much I could tell even then.

What neither my parents nor hers knew was that my cousin had made a boyfriend that her parents would not have approved of, an older, wilder boy of the kind that gets labelled dangerous or bad news. We’d giggled about it, and on that fateful night I helped her sneak away to meet up with him, backing her up when she lied about where we were going to be. My parents were shocked, really, because I would normally never willingly be out that late, never risk being outside when it was anywhere close to dark, but I swallowed down that fear for her sake. We were supposed to be back before it really got dark anyway.

Exactly what happened between them I would never know. He had a car and some friends with him, and he took us further away from my cousin’s home than either of us had intended and I was comfortable with. Before I knew it though my cousin and I were let out at a random street, her face upset and his angry, while the boys peeled out and drove away. She took my hand and said that we had to find a bus stop or a phone, but she sobbed as she said it. Finally we had to sit down somewhere because she was just outright crying, and I honestly don’t think she knew where we were anymore than I did.

The shadows grew long and my fear screamed at me. If only I had listened, if only I had yanked her with me and kept us moving, anywhere at all. But she was so upset and I didn’t know what to do.

I don’t know where they came from, I didn’t see them when they grabbed us and something hit me very hard in the head because I blacked out for a while. To this day I wish I hadn’t woken up again that night.

But I did and we were in an alley, not far from where we had been actually, and it was dark. The light from the street didn’t reach us there, only the light of a rising moon did, but it was enough for me to see. Her. Them.

The first thing I saw was her blonde hair and her hand, convulsing it seemed, and as my eyes cleared I thought for one split second that she was being raped. Then I saw that the truth was far worse, because then I saw them.

There were two of them, pale and twisted and naked, their maws so disgustingly big and disjointed. The noise they made was indescribable as they devoured my cousin while she was still alive. Her head lolled back and she looked at me, looked me right into the eyes, and I saw that what they were doing was not just to her body. I could literally see in her eyes how they were tearing her soul apart and devouring that too, the agony, the violation and despair in her before her life finally ended.

Her eyes turned glassy, dead, and at that moment I wanted to be dead too. I never heard the third one come up behind me, didn’t even try to make my weak body struggle as he lifted me, didn’t scream as his long black tongue coiled itself around my neck and down into the neck of my sweater. For a moment it tightened around my throat and I thought it would strangle me, but then the creature was just... gone, and I fell back to the ground. A large, grotesque white head swam into view, its tongue still hanging from its maw as it stared at me.

Those inhuman, bleeding red eyes looked down at me with a very human expression. Fear.

It was afraid of me.

That was when I heard the other sounds. The sounds of voices, human voices, and of running. They drew back, all three of them, towards the deeper dark as a policeman with a flashlight came running towards us. Another joined him and I was jostled, my vision blurring over.

Before everything went black though I saw them, retreating into the shadows while staring fearfully at me, and how the police never even seemed to notice that they were right there.

--------------

My family was broken after that. I spent time in the hospital, had some injuries and a bad concussion, which helped me when the police came to take my statement. Apparently it was believable enough that I was knocked out when we were grabbed and that I only came to a little, just enough to see that there was someone with my cousin but that it was too dark and my brains too scrambled for me to give a description. It was also believable apparently to the therapist I was sent to that I didn’t really remember anything other than that, and my family learned to accept that I wouldn’t talk about what happened.

The police continued to search for the murderer and for the rest of my poor cousin’s body, but neither would ever be found. How could they, when the police had stood no more than a few arms lengths away from her murderers and never even saw them?

The year that followed was blurry for me, between hospitals, police visits, night terrors and therapy, and before I knew it I was fourteen and had missed almost a full year of school. Thankfully I had always been a good student, and was smart enough that it was decided that if I had a private tutor I could catch up and join my age mates in the final exams. My parents scrounged up the money for a tutor and I threw myself into the studies, grateful really that I wasn’t forced to leave the house much yet.

Needless to say I didn’t sleep well at night, but when I did manage to sleep I would awake, every time, with that horrible fearful question ringing in me. If these creatures of the darkest of nightmares were so afraid of me that they ran from the sight of me... then what did that make me? What was I?

What was I?

--------------

Fifteen years old and school, of course, was hell. I went from big news to juicy gossip to the freak girl and a target for bullies, much as I had expected. I didn’t care. For a while it just aggravated the bullies more that I honestly didn’t give a damn about their childish and pathetic cruelty, but as the months drew on they began to fear me. I was too unpredictable in the way I reacted, carried something scary about me in the look in my eyes, even though I never raised either voice or a hand against anyone. I just wanted to be left alone.

And eventually, I was. The little trolls at school ignored me for most part, and while it left me friendless that was fine with me. I did what I was supposed to, I studied and got the grades that would please my parents, but other than that I remained at home, near my family. Always alert, always searching.

I kept watch. And I saw them.

Books had not given me much to go on, the occasional myth that might or might not have the smallest of references to what I was searching for at the most, but even that was more than the Internet had to offer. If the truth was out there in any way, well, I wasn’t the girl to find it.

But I caught glimpses of them.

Not often, and thankfully only far from my home, but towards the end of my fifteenth year I had observed them, however fleetingly, at least a dozen times. Never more than a few at a time, at most, but unless I somehow managed to spot the same ones over and over it gave me a general idea for what these monsters looked like, pale, bald, twisted and emaciated faces and large, deformed ears. They kept to the shadows and were either naked or in dark rags, and no-one ever looked their way.

They so clearly were not human, and everything in me roiled at the sight of them. My cousin’s eyes as she died always resurfaced in my thoughts, and my throat burned with acid every time.

Then as I was about to turn sixteen, a mere month before the date itself in fact, my family moved. A bigger city, a better job for my father and a considerably larger sum of money for my family to live on was the cause, yet my parents were so concerned, so apologetic to me for going through with the move. Reassurances on my part mattered little, because I was considered well-meaning but frail, and the move could further damage my fragile psyche.

In truth I was torn about the move, but not for any reason my parents would have understood. My increased observations of them in my city, in more and more parts of it and more often, had been worrying me greatly for a time. The city was not safe, if it ever had been, and how long until they had found their way to my neighbourhood? My little brother was getting to be too old for my mother and father to keep an eye on him whenever he wasn’t at school anymore, and I was getting to be more and more anxious just to see my parents go off to work every day.

But this new city was an unknown element too, I knew nothing of safe or dangerous areas, or if indeed they were here too. I could not even tell if the neighbourhood that we moved to, pretty and pleasant though it looked, was in any way safe.

Sleep became a thing of the past as my silent, secret patrols increased tenfold. Simply observing from the corner of my eye was no longer enough, and I scoured my surroundings to make sure my family would be safe.

My parents called me jittery, and worried for my mental health. Once or twice therapy was brought up, but I believe my mother and father lacked the heart to make me go just because I wasn’t settling in easily in another city. At my new school my age-mates quickly realized that there was something weird about me, so while I was a hot topic for gossip, especially since the public version of what happened to my cousin made the rounds, I was left alone.

The first time I saw them in my new home I was just walking down the street towards my mother’s workplace, having gotten off school early and was supposed to meet my mother for lunch. I froze at the sight, stopped dead right there in the busy street, and stared more obviously than I had at any of their kind for years.

There were three of them, just standing in the shadows at the mouth of a small side-street, and they looked nothing like I had come to expect. These were not bald, twisted figures in rags, nightmares hanging on the edge of vision with open maws glittering with far too many teeth or with their black tongues hanging out. Not at all.

For one thing these three figures were clearly female, the first I’d seen of their kind. Tall and thin and just as pale, their white hair in shocking contrast to the black clothing they wore. Their mouths were closed and looked far more human than those I had seen before, overall they just looked more human, but every instinct in me screamed that they were not.

They noticed me, noticed my staring, and alerted those glowing red eyes zeroed in on me with a familiar intensity. They shifted, one of them moving as if to walk towards me, and that broke their spell over me.

I turned and I ran like I never had before, my heart pounding hard in my chest as I raced towards my mother’s work. I couldn’t explain to her why I was in such a state when she found me, and that led to further awkwardness at home and more concern for my parents. After that I lived in fear whenever my poor mother left for work, despite knowing that she drove to work and only left it for the occasional lunch down the street. The risk was still too great, and that fear and uncertainty was not easy on me.

Finally the fear for my family’s safety overrode my own terror, and I went out into this new city on my own. Even though I was dizzy and sick to my stomach in abject fear of what I would find, or worse what would find me, I set out on foot and by bus to try and determine whether the areas the members of my family most often moved in would be safe.

For all I knew the neighbourhood we lived in was safe enough, I had already patrolled it several times and never caught sight of anything dangerous, but I wasn’t quite so foolish as to trust that entirely. The memory of that first creature, the white-haired male that wanted to eat me, silhouetted against my old bedroom window in the house where we used to live remained with me, and I never saw one of them in that neighbourhood again after that.

The area around the school yielded nothing, much as I had thought. In general the area around the school was open, well lit, and seemed to lack any larger shaded areas that might hide them. There was a small park next to the playground and the basketball court, but there were not enough dense clusters of trees to obscure the view from the buildings around it, so I dismissed that.

I passed by the movie theatres, the pizza parlours and burger places on my way towards where my father worked. Those streets were all large, well lit and crowded, and probably seemed safe to other people. Even the side-streets were wide and well lit, but all I could think of was of how many of those surrounding shops would close once darkness fell, and how many of those inviting lights in the windows would be turned off by then.

My anxiety rose as I came closer to the district where my father worked. The buildings right near his work were all tall and the streets wide, but no more than a stone’s throw away and the dark and empty windows of unused warehouses warned me to turn back. I didn’t dare to continue that way and choose instead to cut across town towards where my mother worked.

It didn’t take long for the wide, well-lit streets to narrow, for the buildings to grow older with gaps between them, dark alleyways and narrow side-streets too obscured to see down. Even the buildings themselves had too many dark nooks and crannies, and the sick feeling of fear grew stronger in me.

As dusk crept closer and I hurried towards the street where my mother worked, I saw them no less than three times. At first I saw only a flash of movement between dumpsters down one alley, but the brief glimpse of a bare white limb before it hid convinced me it was one of the bald, twisted ones I had seen. A few blocks away from there I caught sight of a few white-haired figures leaning in dark door openings on a side street, my second sighting of those black-clad females.

If it were the same ones I couldn’t say, not then, because I tried not to be as obvious in staring at them as I had been previously while I walked past at a brisk pace. It didn’t help, they had clearly noticed me before I noticed them, for I could feel each and every set of glowing red eyes burning into my neck as I tried not to break out into a panicked run.

One figure stepped out of the shadows enough for the light to touch her, and while I quickened my pace and didn’t dare to look at her directly, the long black leather coat and her short white hair was quite clear to me.

Especially when she showed up again a few blocks later, weaving in and out of shadows across the street to keep an even pace with me, almost appearing as if she wanted me to see her. I screamed when her glowing eyes met mine and threw all caution to the wind, running as fast as I could the last part to the bus stop.

Awkwardly I waved away the bus driver’s surprised concern, and did what I could not to look as frightened as I really was. I spent the bus ride home trying to collect myself, so that my parents wouldn’t take one look at me and see how truly terrified I really was, and also cursing my stupidity all the way home.

Yes, I had found out that while my little brother might be safe enough, both my parents spent nearly every day in parts of the city that held dangers they, and I, could not protect against. Had it helped in any way? No, my fear and worry for both my parents would only increase now, and worse... despite spending the entire trip home looking out the windows to make sure there were no pale figures following it, I couldn’t say for certain that I hadn’t just led monsters right to the doorstep of my home.

--------------

Feigning illness I stayed at home for a few days after that particular bout of folly, though whether I did it out of cowardice or bravery I’m unsure. I spent the days while my family was away the same way I did my nights, vigilant and tense, certain they would come at any moment and from any direction. They never did.

Another month or so passed without a sign of inhumanly pale skin or burning eyes, and even though I was starting to feel a bit strange, as if perhaps I had a flu coming on, I went about my days in the way expected of me.

It was overcast that day, had been for a while and the weather forecast promised at least a week of rain. It was still early, so it didn’t bother me too much when my mother asked me to go pick some things up at the grocery store while she had to drive my brother somewhere. Despite a slightly annoying headache I was alert as always, and the shopping should have been handled quickly and I would have been safely on the bus heading home in no time.

My problem was that I had spent so many years looking for monsters in the shadows that I had forgotten that there are human monsters too.

I saw him, walked right past him without a care, my eyes scanning the dark parts of the other side of the street and completely ignoring him. Another girl my age would probably have paid attention to his suspicious appearance and to the car parked near him, but regular cars cast too small shadows to be of concern to me, and I didn’t.

Suddenly there was a meaty hand over my mouth and an arm around my torso, and everything tilted and spun. An acrid scent filled my nostrils, then the world slipped away.

When I came to it was to a pounding headache and overwhelming nausea, and I was being carried. It took a brief moment for my mind to clear to the fact that I was being carried over the shoulder by someone who stank of sweat and worse, and that my hands were tied.

I panicked. I kicked and I struggled and I must have taken my abductor by surprise, because somehow I got him to let me go. I fell to the ground painfully, hit my head and tasted blood in my mouth, but that did not stop me from scrabbling to get away. I found my feet as he overcame his surprise, and I ran.

I had no idea where I was or where to go, I just had to get away from him. He chased me, and presumably with the benefit of not being drugged dizzy, he soon caught up with me. He didn’t get a good grip on me, but managed to throw me quite hard to the side and I again hit my head on something before I was back down on the ground.

It should have been over then, really. He was on me, an adult man against a thin teenage girl with her hands tied and her head bashed up. But instead an anger overtook me, a burning rage so fierce it has scared me ever since. I pushed my bound hands into his chest and somehow held him back from me. In a strangely detached way I felt my mouth open, how my lips drew back to bare my teeth at him, and this sound erupted from me. It was a deep rumbling that burst up from my chest and past my lips, not entirely unlike a lion’s roar.

There was nothing human about it.

The sound of it shocked me back to my senses, snuffed the rage from my veins and sapped the strength from my arms. Whatever I had just done, wherever it had come from, it was gone again and I was just a girl, beaten and drugged. I had barely the strength to stay conscious anymore, much less to save myself from what would happen.

Except it didn’t.

There was an answering sound, not too dissimilar to the one that had come from myself, and then the man, my attacker, was just... gone. I saw nothing but distant clouds for the briefest of moments, only then realizing that it was getting dark, before the evening sky was replaced by white and red.

I was jostled, lifted into strong arms, and at the periphery of my blurry vision I saw the edges of a familiar black coat. The soft leather was tucked around me, and I didn’t need a clearer look at her face to know who or what held me.

At that moment I gave up.

Ignoring the horrible sounds coming from behind me and just so exhausted, physically and mentally, I leaned into my monster and wept, deeply and raggedly, as I let my mind slip away into the dark.

--------------

When I awoke I was dazed and confused, my body hurting all over and my mouth and my eyes dry, as if after a high fever. It took a long, disoriented moment to even realize that I was uncomfortable, and that I was this because I was lying on floor tiles. It took even longer to remember what had happened before I passed out.

Just forcing my eyes open hurt, so my instinctive attempt at scrambling to my feet had very meagre results, I was barely able to push my head up from the floor. With my heart thundering in my chest I cast my eyes about frantically, trying to take in as much as I could.

I was clearly in a derelict building of some sort, because what I could see of it in the darkness was dirty, broken and barren, fractured flooring and rotting wallpaper, and gaping open holes where once windows had been. I was a few stories up, and the weak light that came in through those empty squares reached a small area around me, leaving the rest of the room in blackest shadow.

That feeling in me, in the pit of my stomach and crawling up my neck, told me that I wasn’t alone before I saw them. They moved out of the deepest darkness just enough for me to see that they were there, and then they waited. There were four of them that I could see, and a movement at the edge of my vision told me that there were more behind me. I was surrounded.

The one with the short, unruly white hair moved a little closer than the others, and for that reason her features were a bit easier to clearly make out in the faint light. The movement made me flinch badly, and only then did I discover that I was in fact covered in a by then familiar black coat. It had been draped over me in a gesture that suggested some care, a realization that might have affected my fear somewhat, had I been given a moment to consider it.

Instead my brief moment of distraction meant that I did not see her move up to me, I blinked and there she was. Although prone, I cowered in fear at the sight of her.

She was tall, impossibly tall, made even more so because I was on the floor and she was standing next to me. Thin, reed-slender like all their kind, but somehow it looked different on her. More ancient somehow, even more inhuman. Her skin as white as snow, it almost glowed in the faint light, and her long hair a silver shade of white that glittered like jewels on a faint breeze.

She looked down at me with glowing red eyes that looked more ancient than anything had any right to be, and as those eyes examined me with such a knowing yet at the same time searching look I forgot how to breathe, much less scream. She tilted her head as she watched me, the slight movement more reminiscent of that of a bird than that of a human. While she was a far cry from the hideous beasts I had seen in the past, there was still nothing human about her.

Even though I stared right at her in my helplessness I almost did not see her move as she knelt by me. One long, slender hand reached out to touch my hair, hesitantly at first, but soon sifting my hair between her fingers. Expressions chased each other across those inhuman eyes, but I could not read them, not understand them.

Then that slender hand touched my face, right near my eyes, and while it should have frightened me worse a strange calmness engulfed me. I would later learn that it was her calmness, granted me by that touch.

The caress itself was strangely affectionate, almost like a mother’s, and with it those eyes grew soft, almost sympathetic as she gazed down at me. The light glinted off long translucent fangs as she opened her mouth, and I should have been more afraid. It was as if I was being hypnotized by those eyes and that ongoing light, gentle caress.

She did not eat me, she did not hurt me. Instead she spoke, her words lilting and her voice as otherworldly as her appearance. And although it was not her intention to be cruel, those words ripped my world apart.

--------------

As I was still gasping for breath, my mind revolting at what I had just learned even as a treacherous little whisper somewhere in the back of it told me it was true, the one that I had for some reason dubbed my monster stepped forward. She tucked her coat around me and gathered my unresisting form up in her arms, cradling me to her chest.

I did not see her look to the silver-haired one for permission, but I know she must have nonetheless, as I closed my eyes and leaned my head into her shoulder for the second time that evening. I felt the world shift as she jumped, and the wind rush around me as she raced with me in her arms, but I refused to acknowledge the world at all. It was as if I hoped to make everything a lie, a bad dream, if only I could press my eyelids together hard enough.

After some time the wind stopped whipping at us and I realized we were no longer moving. There was a gentle little nudge and I reluctantly lifted my head and opened my eyes to look at the one carrying me. Her red eyes were easier to read, soft, regretful and apologetic even as she waited for me to notice that we were standing beneath a tree in my front yard. A faint sting of bitterness came and went as I acknowledged that of course they knew where I lived. Of course they would, once they had seen me.

My regretful monster carefully put me down, steadying me until my legs cooperated, and rather reluctantly took back her coat. She ducked her head a little to meet my eyes, and with a frown and awkward words she told me that she was sorry. I wondered fleetingly why her expressions seemed slightly more human, more easy to read, to me than the others I had seen, but I pushed it out of my mind as she took a step back and told me to find her when I would need her.

Then she was gone and I was left alone, lost, confused and broken, in the dark outside my parents’ home.

From that moment on it never truly would be my home. Although I tried to resist it for as long as I was able, the world that I knew had been ripped away from me, and I didn’t belong in that house anymore. I didn’t belong in that family anymore.

It started almost immediately, really. I staggered up the front steps and the door was flung open before me by my frantic parents, whom welcomed me with a thousand questions and fear that bordered on hysteria. Instead of letting me inside I was rushed off to a hospital to be checked out, and by then I had set firm in my mind the story to tell. I gave the police and all others present as detailed a description of the man who grabbed me, even though I felt fairly certain there was nothing left of him to find, and of the details surrounding how he had captured me. Again my unfortunate penchant for head injury was to my advantage, more so when those involved found out about my past experiences with the same, and some rather extensive and somewhat embarrassing examinations later, I was allowed to leave.

It was in my mother I first noticed the change. Both my parents where frantic when they met me in the door at the house, but they calmed unnaturally quickly while at the hospital, especially given our family’s history and the uncertainty regarding what had happened to me. But it was actually visible with my mother, the way she at least seemed concerned when speaking to me, and then when she turned so that I was no longer in her direct line of sight seemed calm, if a bit confused, as she looked around. It was almost as if she couldn’t quite recall why she was there.

Then she would look my way by accident, and her eyes would go wide and blink strangely a few times before she became concerned again. Each time it happened the concern was weaker than before, and that frowning moment of confusion when she looked at me became clearer to see.

It scared me and made my insides go cold as ice.

We went home, and it was as if my parents had forgotten what had happened. My little brother asked questions at first, before he, too, stopped talking about it, but in his case it might have been a natural reaction. At least he was subdued while our parents prepared for the night as if nothing unusual had happened that day, and for that I admit I hugged him before sending him off to bed. I went to my own with a head full of questions and a heart filling up with grief.

The days and months that followed would prove that what I had been told, or in some cases rather shown, the images and feelings somehow sent to my mind rather than conveyed in words, was all true. Gradually my presence just faded, especially where my family was concerned, until my mother could look right at me and not see me standing there.

I found that if I focused my will, I could for some reason make people notice me, and I had no idea at the time just how amazing this ability of mine really was. It was always easier with strangers or casual acquaintances, such as teachers at school, for some reason I have never quite been able to discern. They blinked once or twice and then obeyed my will to notice me, in time more than that, they would come to obey my will while I exerted it over them.

My family though, for some reason they seemed resistant to whatever it is that allows me to do what I do. It took long moments of slow blinking as I poured all my will into it before I was seen, and even from the beginning it was not always successful. By the time I was eighteen I stopped trying, because by then nothing I did would cause their eyes to pause and focus on me, even for a moment.

By then I had of course long since faced who I am, and embraced my new family. It took me no more than two months in fact, before I took off into the night, crying and heartbroken, towards the only ones that really knew what was going on with me.

Was it sheer luck that my monster so gallantly caught up with me, stumbling blindly down dark streets not far from my neighbourhood, or had she in fact been keeping watch over me all that time? I still don’t know, but I am grateful nonetheless, for what I did was foolish. I should have been well aware by then that the world is filled with monsters, not all of them inhuman, and not all of them benign towards me.

But caught up with me she did, and brought me to the others. Ever since her mind touched mine I knew that the one with the long silvery hair was the leader of this family, the queen of this small clan, and while they all tried in different ways to ease my transition it was she who guided me the most. It was she that had the answers, in as much as there were any answers for any of us to find.

They had all begun as I did, as human girls once upon a distant time. Some of them were very old, and she, the queen, was so ancient I could not wrap my mind around it fully. But they had all experienced the fading, it came with the change of the colour of their eyes. How it amazed them, this ability of mine to force my presence upon my surroundings, just as the way my eyes remained this strange, and by now glowing, blue.

I was different, the queen told me, I was more than they. Stronger. I was to be the future of my kind.

At first it didn’t make sense to me. Little at all made sense to me, and it was difficult since their words often were, and still are, halting and different. Parts of their conversations are made through the link of minds, in image and emotion, which was yet foreign to me. I was still in transition after all, my fading far from complete. Traces of my borrowed humanity still clung to me then, and until they were shed it would always be a little awkward for me.

My assumption that those twisted, horrid male creatures of my past belonged to the same species as my new acquaintances, and now myself, was something the queen denied firmly. Males and females, of which my little clan is but one of many in the world, are considered completely different breeds, and while little is known about how or why the males come into being they are considered naught but foul, mindless and murderous beasts. The male beasts try to avoid my kind when they can, because the females will kill them whenever their paths cross. Not all females actively hunt the male beasts, but when one is found it is our duty to the mortals to kill.

I do not agree with the queen’s assessment of the males as uniformly animals of no thought or reasoning. I will never forget that first one, the male with white hair in my childhood room, and the clear intelligence in his eyes. Exactly what he was and what it means I do not know, because I have never seen one like him since, all other males have been the misshapen horrors which I heartily agree are but beasts. I also do not disagree that they must all die, whatever else I myself might be or become, I will not forget nor make less of how my dear cousin died. For that alone I would tear those things limb from limb with my own hands, no matter what it makes me.

In some vain effort to try to remain human I persisted with school to begin with, despite the annoyances of the things I had to do to simply make my teachers remember to give me grades, but my reasoning soon changed. While it may take effort on my part, I am still the only one that can impart my presence on humanity, and I have grown to realize what that means. How that makes me the future of our kind.

Before me my sisters did not live too poorly, the inability to be seen allowing them to take temporary shelter in shops or homes sometimes, but those times were rare as they came with considerate risk. The sunlight weakens them, although it still does nothing to me, and in the past there have even been sisters that in taking shelter in human homes due to circumstance got caught in the sun for so long that, once darkness fell, the males found them and devoured them. For most part my family has opted to live in abandoned buildings, tunnels and subways during daylight hours before I came.

Not anymore. I will go to school and learn what I must, and then no matter how long it takes and what I have to do, what I have to steal or who I have to manipulate, I will build our future. I will build us homes where we can be safe, my family and I.

Until then I manipulate humans with my power, and keep my family safe within their homes during the day. Even if they look right at us they will never know that we are there, although they will do my bidding all the same. My sisters will be safe, and I will do what must be done. Until I succeed we will all watch them move about without knowing that we are there, living the lives that we no longer can have.

My hair is still brown, although in time I am told it will pale to one of the many shades of white my sisters display. My body still looks human, although my skin is nearly white now, but I may become taller in time. Whether or not I shall look quite as slender and inhuman as my sisters we do not know yet, only time will tell.

When you feel a sudden chill down your spine for no reason, it is because I passed you by. When you wake in the night, heart pounding and fearful but you cannot say what you dreamt or what awakened you, it is because I was there.

When you feel dizzy or tired for no reason during the day, it is because I was there, siphoning your strength, feeding off your energy. When you are afraid of the dark and cannot give a good reason why, it is because I am out there.

I am the blue-eyed monster.

And I am watching you.