I yanked my hand back with all my strength, tearing my flesh in the process.


    Blood streamed from the wound, dripping onto the floor. I stared at my mangled hand, then at the crimson staining his sharp teeth.


    Teeth like a shark’s.


    He panted heavily, like a man who had just run an entire marathon. His tongue slithered along his teeth, tasting the blood.


    Once again, he rasped, “I am hungry…”


    What the hell is going on?


    I hid my injured hand behind my back, soaking my shirt in blood.


    He turned toward me, his gaze unsteady, predatory. “I am…”


    “Ulah, stop!” Like that was going to work. Whatever was happening wasn’t normal, and I had no idea why.


    The only explanation that came to mind was that a monster had used a body skill on him, altering his biology.


    As I tried to make sense of it, Ulah lunged. I barely managed to sidestep, narrowly avoiding him.


    “I will break your jaw if you don’t stop!” I shouted, but my words didn’t reach him.


    Was it the bread? But I had eaten some too. I had been in pain, but I hadn’t undergone any body changes or this overwhelming hunger.


    Ulah moved like a rabid, staggering goat, but he tripped over a chair and crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.


    Even the frail wooden floor trembled slightly.


    I hope that didn’t hurt him too much.


    Natasha stood frozen, her expression unreadable. She muttered under her breath, “Just what the hell is going on?”


    “He’s trying to eat me!”


    She hesitated, then said, “Hold him.”


    I didn’t question her. Ulah had barely made it onto his knees when I grabbed him from behind, locking his neck in a tight hold.


    Natasha crouched beside us, leveling her gaze with his. Ulah clawed at my arms, desperate to break free.


    She studied his bloodied teeth. “Ulah, do you recognize my voice?”


    He groaned in response.


    “Pink-terra love bird?” She tried the nickname Caren had given him.


    Another groan.


    I swallowed hard. “I think… it’s something to do with that bread I gave him when I got home. Maybe eating it made him a target of a monster with a body attribute?”


    “He would be dead or in a monster’s stomach if—wait. Bread?” She turned to me, her expression demanding an explanation.


    “Yes… I put a roll in your hand too, while you were asleep.”


    “Ah. I thought it was from your father.” Her voice was flat. “Where did you get it?”


    I hesitated.


    Ulah thrashed, jerking his head back into my chin. I gritted my teeth and endured the pain.


    “A… Balash temple,” I admitted.


    Her expression didn’t shift. “Why were you near one?”


    “I didn’t go inside. You told me not to, and I thought—”


    “You thought what? Don’t go inside, don’t go near, don’t have anything to do with it. Why did you twist my words when you knew exactly what I meant?”


    “I know, I know. I just thought it would be different if I didn’t actually go in. I just wanted something to eat. I didn’t think it would lead to this.”


    She bit her lip, shaking her head in frustration. “Whatever. What about you?” She arched a brow. “You want to start eating people too?”


    “No…”


    “How do you feel?”


    “I woke up in a lot of pain.” I gestured toward my hand, then my stomach. “But after eating, the pain mostly stopped.”


    “I see. What about your father? Did he eat any?”


    Shit.


    I nodded. “Yeah. I completely forgot about him.” I had been too focused on Ulah.


    “I see… It’s weird. He’s just been sleeping.” She turned toward the corner where the mattress lay. “You think he’s just holding in the pain?”


    She looked at me.


    So that was a literal question.


    “Probably? But I doubt it. He never had a high pain tolerance.”


    She shifted her weight onto her left leg, the way she always did when deep in thought. “He probably thinks it’s the usual gas pain.”


    “Then wouldn’t he be chewing on some Kuger herbs?” Unlike Hulas, it tasted like normal spice. He always had one in his mouth at night and in the morning.


    “Who knows what that man thinks.”


    Ulah was still struggling, even trying to stand a few times.


    I hope whatever this is can be reversed.


    Natasha sighed, and I heard movement—heavy, deliberate.


    She abruptly grabbed the table runner and yanked it off, sending baskets of fruit crashing to the floor.


    “Your father is up. Get to the door,” she ordered, balling the fabric in her hands. In one swift motion, she gagged Ulah, gestured for me to release him, and took hold of him herself.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    “I need something to drink. Fuck…” Caren’s voice sounded cracked, like shattered glass.


    He clutched his throat with both hands, his hunched form radiating exhaustion. Each step he took was labored, yet filled with a growing urgency.


    I grabbed a nearby bottle of grated dried Hulas and backed toward the door, keeping my eyes locked on him.


    I asked Natasha, “If we give him water, would he—”


    He lunged like a massive, enraged zombie.


    Shit!


    Natasha snatched the back of my shirt and sprinted toward the door, dragging me along.


    We burst onto the wooden steps outside, the house elevated just enough to give us an edge. A second later, Caren’s heavy footfalls thundered after us.


    Natasha shoved me forward. I hit the dirt hard but scrambled back up instantly.


    “I am dying of thirst!” he bellowed, charging down the steps. But before he reached the last one, he groaned and collapsed, face-first into the ground.


    The impact rattled through me.


    That back injury must have hit him like a truck.


    I turned to Natasha, heart pounding. “Do you think they’re different enough to survive it?”


    “It?”


    “Healing.”


    Her eyes never left Caren, but she answered, “What do you think?”


    Tch.


    It’s not.


    Caren stirred again. His movements were sluggish at first, but his pace quickened. He lifted his bloodied forehead, crimson trickling down his chin.


    His forearms were bruised, but he ignored the pain and forced himself up. The moment he tried to steady himself, his balance gave out, and he staggered backward. His foot slipped, sending him tumbling toward the stairs. He barely had time to react before his back slammed hard against the edge of a step.


    A sharp cry tore from his throat, but that was all. Lucky for us.


    Natasha turned to me. “Get Marvin.” She hesitated, then asked, “You remember where his house is?”


    “Yeah, but I can barely see anything.”


    It wasn’t pitch black like inside the house, but the only things I could make out were large shapes in the murky darkness.


    “I’ll go for him then.”


    “Oh wow. You can see in the dark now?” I muttered sarcastically.


    “I have a good memory.” She handed me Ulah. “Keep an eye on them. If your father starts causing trouble, hit him in the head with a rock if you have to.”


    “What if I accidentally kill him?” I asked, adjusting my grip on Ulah, who squirmed against me, trying to sink his little teeth into my arm like a ravenous zombie.


    “Then you’d be a father killer. My little psycho,” Natasha said, already making her way down the grassy slope.


    “Nice,” I murmured. So, in other words, I’d be like the Queen of the Holvious Queendom.


    I’d always wanted to be royalty rather than a peasant.


    POV: Natasha


    As I walked, I glanced back a few times to check on Vernisha.


    Her grip on Ulah was firm, and I could hear her humming a song he used to sing with the neighbors.


    Right now, the sky is clear. I want to fly through the sky like a bird. I want freedom. I want…


    Of course, it wasn’t working.


    I reached the bottom of the slope and made my way toward a decently sized wooden house with a garden on the right. Or rather, a failed garden. Red cabbages were supposed to be growing there, meant for sale, but they had been half-devoured by pests.


    Well, that’s how it was earlier. Who knows? Maybe a miracle happened, and the garden is thriving again.


    The fool should’ve listened to me and used rotten pink-terra sauce to keep the vermin away.


    I climbed Marvin’s narrow, steep stairs and knocked on the door.


    A ridiculous talisman was stuck to it.


    It belonged to his wife. She believed it would bring good luck and ward off Darsean cultists. I could say with certainty—it was a load of bullshit.


    I knocked again, harder this time. Finally, I heard movement inside.


    “What the hell… Who the hell—?” Palia’s voice was thick with exhaustion. “Mervin.”


    A pause. Then, louder: “Mervin.”


    And finally, a shove.


    “Wh—what? What the hell are you waking me up for?” Marvin’s groggy voice joined in.


    “Someone’s at the door. Go check.”


    I decided to make myself known. “It’s me. Natasha. I have an emergency. My son and husband are terribly sick.”


    “Natasha?” Palia sounded startled. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”


    Thought I’d wait until you got your bearings.


    “Good question,” I muttered.


    I heard Palia get out of bed and shuffle toward the door. The handle rattled, but the door didn’t open.


    “Shit. Give me a second.”


    She tried to open the door without the key…?


    Marvin groaned. “What did you say? I just woke up, my brain’s tired as hell, and whatever.”


    Palia snapped like a teacher who’d explained the same thing a thousand times. “Get your lazy ass up. Her family is sick!”


    “Oh, give me a damn break!”


    Light footsteps dragged across the floor toward the door.


    “You found the fucking key?” Marvin grumbled.


    “It’s hard to find anything when you have to move in darkness,” Palia shot back.


    “I’m not buying any more blu-dust. Shit’s too damn expensive. I swear, when I meet that ‘Light for All’ boss, they’re gonna hear a piece of my— Oh. Palia, you dropped the key on the damn floor!”


    “Huh?”


    “I stepped on it. I think I did.”


    I exhaled sharply. “Can you please make haste?”


    “All right, all right. Give an old man a break.” The door lock clicked.


    I stepped back down the stairs as the door swung open in an arc. Marvin stood there, partially naked, a bedsheet barely covering his privates.


    He squinted into the darkness before spotting me. “Where’s your lamp? Are you trying to trip and break your damn neck?”


    “Didn’t have the time,” I said. “Anyway, let’s hurry.”


    “Put some pants on, at least.” Palia tossed a pair of brown trousers and a large bag at him, both smacking him in the face.


    “Damn it.” He pulled the pants on quickly, still fumbling with the fit as he asked, “So, what’s the issue with them?”


    “They ate something that made them grow fangs and attack both me and my daughter,” I said flatly. “And if we stand here talking, they might come after you next.”


    Marvin stopped adjusting his pants mid-motion.


    He didn’t say a word, but Palia suddenly bolted past him, shoving him aside so hard he almost tripped. Of course, he panicked.


    “Did you just say fangs?” she demanded.


    I nodded. “They want to eat flesh and drink blood.”


    Marvin blinked several times, his expression unreadable. Finally, he muttered, “Ha… drink? Drink what? Drink blood…?”


    “Yes.”


    “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He exhaled sharply. “I want you to know—if you weren’t Palia’s good friend and Caren’s wife, I’d have shut my damn door.”


    He muttered under his breath, “Fucking scary shit. Did you piss off one of those gum-skins—”


    Palia elbowed him hard. “Stop being so disrespectful.”


    “I’m not! Didn’t you just hear what she said? Gum-skin shit.”


    “I did.” She stepped down from the porch, nudged me forward, then shot him a glare. “Hurry up.”


    The entire way back, I had to endure Marvin’s ramblings about Caren and Ulah being cursed by some angry gum-skin priest. I ignored most of it.


    The first thing I heard as we neared the house was Vernisha singing softly to Ulah while rolling a fist-sized stone around with her foot. It almost sounded like a distorted version of a song she shouldn’t know.


    Palia lifted the lamp she’d borrowed from Mary a month ago, casting a flickering glow over the scene.


    Marvin took a deep breath and gestured at Caren, who lay on the ground groaning, his hands twitching in the air like a dying man trying to grasp something just out of reach.


    “Why the hell is he bleeding from the head?” Marvin asked. “And why’s he moving like that?”


    You’re the doctor. Shouldn’t you be telling me that?


    Of course, I didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I replied, “I told Vernisha to use stones if he threatened her.”


    “Hell… How hard did she hit him?”


    I turned to Vernisha. “How hard?”


    She rocked Ulah from side to side, avoiding my gaze. “Really hard. The first time, he got a sudden burst of strength, so I went for his chest. The second time… I thought he moved, but it was just a sharkcrow.”


    I sighed. “And it hit him in the head?”


    She still wouldn’t look at me. “Head. But that was an accident. It’s dark! I had to rely on my ears.”


    “Yeah, I know. I’m not angry.”


    Marvin pulled a bowl, a spoon, and an assortment of herbs from his bag. “Looks like you did more than just make him sit down. He’s probably brain-dead.”


    “Don’t be so negative,” Palia scolded.


    “Look at the man!” Marvin gestured in exasperation. He could barely glance at Caren for more than a second before shaking his head.


    Funny. I didn’t expect him to be this affected, considering they stopped being friends a long time ago. Maybe they still hung out in private? Not that I ever cared to check.


    He muttered, “Poor bastard looks like Sonza now.”


    “Don’t you fucking dare talk about my brother like that!”


    Before the two could tear each other’s throats out, I interjected, “Can we please focus?”


    “Okay, okay…” Marvin grumbled. “What’s their weight? I don’t want to go back inside for the scale.”


    … Okay then.


    “Two seventy-eight and ninety pounds,” I answered.


    Palia nudged me. “Damn, you have a better memory than me.”


    I chuckled.


    Her smile faltered into something more serious. “Don’t worry, Nash. Marvin’s gonna fix them up. Somehow.”


    She nodded, as if trying to convince herself. “Yeah… I’m sure.”


    I smiled at her. “Certainty.”


    “You’re stronger than me. If it were my son in that state, I’d be on the ground crying.”


    She glanced at Marvin. “Him, though? I’d be laughing my ass off.”


    Marvin grumbled.


    He started mashing herbs in the bowl. “We’ll have to put them to sleep before I can do anything.”