Something moved in the darkness.
Fast.
Too fast for Amara's eyes to follow.
A loud crash exploded somewhere to her left, followed by Luca swearing under his breath as metal shelves collapsed onto the garage floor.
"Luca?" Amara called instinctively.
"I'm fine," he said immediately, though his voice sounded farther away than it should have. "I think."
The darkness felt wrong.
Heavy.
Like it wasn't simply the absence of light, but something alive pressing inward from every side. The air had changed again, colder now, thick enough that breathing felt strangely difficult.
Then came the sound.
Soft footsteps.
Slow.
Circling.
The creature wasn't hiding.
It was playing.
"You should run," its layered voice whispered from somewhere behind her.
Amara spun around.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Then—
"You always run."
The voice came from her right this time.
Closer.
And beneath the distorted overlap of voices—
Her father again.
Soft.
Disappointed.
"You never say the things you mean."
Her chest tightened painfully.
No.
That wasn't fair.
Because some part of her still wanted to hear him.
Still wanted one more conversation.
One more chance.
"You're not him," she said quietly.
The darkness shifted.
A faint laugh echoed through the garage.
"No," the creature admitted softly.
A pause.
"But you miss him enough to pretend."
The words landed hard enough to hurt.
Amara felt something inside herself crack slightly—not emotionally, but mentally. Like a door inside her mind had shifted open just enough for something cold to slip through.
A dim emergency light flickered weakly near the ceiling for half a second.
Just enough.
The creature stood less than ten feet away.
Watching.
Its body looked different again.
More human than before.
More stable.
Its face no longer blurred at the edges. It almost looked familiar now in ways she hated.
Its smile remained impossible.
Too wide.
Too full of teeth.
But its eyes—
Its eyes looked knowing.
Hungry.
"You're stronger than the others," it said quietly.
The girl moved instantly, stepping between them. "Don't talk to it."
"Why?" the creature asked softly, tilting its head. "Because she'll start remembering?"
The girl froze.
Only for a second.
But Amara noticed.
"What does that mean?" she asked immediately.
The creature smiled wider.
"There it is," it whispered. "Curiosity."
The emergency light flickered again.
Longer this time.
Enough for Amara to finally notice something she hadn't before.
Marks.
Thin scars running up the girl's wrists.
Dark lines disappearing beneath her sleeves.
Not cuts.
Something stranger.
Something old.
The creature noticed where she was looking.
"Oh," it said softly. "She didn't tell you?"
The girl's voice sharpened immediately. "Shut up."
"She made the same choice once," the creature continued calmly.
Amara frowned. "What choice?"
No answer.
Only silence.
The girl looked suddenly uncomfortable in a way Amara had never seen before.
Then—
"She traded someone," the creature said.
The words landed heavily.
The garage seemed to go still.
"What?" Amara whispered.
The girl looked away.
Just briefly.
But it was enough.
Enough to make the possibility real.
"You said powers cost memories," Amara said slowly.
"They do," the creature replied softly. "Until they cost people."
Luca finally stepped closer, gripping the wrench tightly again. "Can somebody explain what the hell that means?"
The creature looked toward him.
Smiled.
"Your brother already knows."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Luca froze.
The creature took one slow step forward.
"Ask yourself something," it continued quietly. "When he forgot you…"
Its smile widened.
"…what exactly do you think he remembered instead?"
The question hit harder than it should have.
Because suddenly—
Luca looked afraid.
Really afraid.
The garage lights flickered violently back to life for one sharp second.
And in that brief flash—
Amara saw something standing behind the creature.
Tall.
Still.
Watching.
Not one thing.
Several.
Their shapes barely human.
Their faces impossible to focus on.
Waiting silently near the garage entrance like shadows pretending to be people.
The lights died again.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Then the girl grabbed Amara's wrist hard enough to hurt.
"We're leaving," she said sharply.
Her voice had changed.
Urgent now.
Panicked.
"Because if they came with it…"
She stopped.
Her breathing tightened.
"…then this isn't hunting anymore."
A loud crack echoed outside.
Like something enormous had landed on the roof.
And above them—
Something began walking.
Slowly.
Heavy enough to make the house groan.