Monsters

At first, it was just glimpses. A flicker in the corner of his eye. A hand that didn’t look right. An eye that changed shape. In the end, the evidence was too overwhelming. He accepted their existence – that part wasn’t really difficult – but deciding what to do about them had been harder.

The small basement room was filled with canine muzzles, razor teeth, slit-pupiled eyes, clawed hands. “Monsters,” he’d said. “I should kill you all.” He’d prepared the means to do so. He hadn’t prepared himself.

“How did you think you recognized us?” she had said. “Like to like, brother.”