Amelia woke to the grating sound of teeth on bone... a dull, gnawing crunch like when wolves attacked the sheep. But there was no bleating. In fact, there was no sound at all save for the sickening thud of dead meat against solid ground. The house was eerily silent. A palpable, heavy hush hanging over the woodlands; not a sound from the flocks or the birds. Even the usual soft crackle of the fire had sputtered to a barely-smouldering halt; a cold, unnatural dampness stealing through the house. The squelching 'pop' of shredding tendons slithered through the thin walls; the nauseating crack of splintering bone echoing off the hardwood floors as the metallic taste of iron on the air filled Amelia's tiny lungs, sharp and acrid on her tongue.  

Shaking, Amelia slid from beneath her tattered blankets."Mom?" her young voice echoed softly down the hallway. No answer. Only a dull, fleshy 'thud'. Trembling knees carried her down the hall, her small feet making nary a sound as tiptoed up to the door. Softly as a little lamb, the young girl shuffled into her parents' room. 

The strangled sound that clawed its way from her throat could hardly be called a gasp. Pale moonlight filtered through the open window. A gentle breeze making the curtains dance like marionettes above an unimaginable scene. Where once her family slept peacefully - infant brother swaddled lovingly between doting parents - now there was only an unrecognizable mass of mutilated gore. The whole of the room was darkly shining, slick with blood that glowed black beneath the moonlight. 

Amelia's mouth went dry, her eyes wide with trembling terror as she stood fixed to the spot. She felt paralyzed, utterly frozen, trapped within her body as her mind reeled. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream. She wanted to turn away, to run... to just BLINK. Yet, despite the wailing scream that flooded her head, her body remained transfixed; unheeding, unmoving, unblinking. Tears began to stream, unnoticed down her paling cheeks as her fear subjected her to the full abject horror before her. Finger bones, stripped of their flesh dangled lifelessly from the edge of the bed, protruding from a macerated pile of unconnected tissue. A severed foot rested in a bloody corner, several toes missing. Chunks of organs dripped from the walls and ceiling, splattering with a squishy thud as they 'plopped' to the floor. 

And - most horrific of all - across the room, the mound of carnage began to slowly undulate with a foul squelching that rotted in the pit of Amelia's stomach. Slowly, unbelievably, as if birthing itself form the butchery, an unfathomable creature emerged. Not quite man and not quite beast, but some appalling thing forever stuck in between. Dark, papery skin stretched thin across an emaciated frame; sharp ribs and angular hips jutting like knives from beneath the veiny husk. Gaunt, gangly arms with unnaturally long fingers swiped and grasped at fistfuls of sloppy flesh. Bulging eyes protruded from a head that once may have been human but now seemed more skull than face; sunken cheeks taught against a lipless mouth filled with teeth like sharp, jagged fangs. And from it, pale and lifeless, the torso of an infant hung limply, dangling from the fangs like a grim and grisly rag doll. As the monster tossed and chomped, the child's head lolled loosely; it's vacant eyes unmoving as it stared lifelessly at Amelia, it's jaw flapping flaccidly as if to beg for help. 

Something about those eyes thawed her paralysis into a driving, maddening panic. Beneath her, blood oozed between her toes, her bare feet sliding griplessly against the slick wood floors as she fought to back away. The beast, distracted by the slaughter before it, paid her no heed as she stumbled away from the doorway. 

She was painstakingly quiet as she picked her way, silently sobbing, to the front door... terrified that even the slightest of sounds would bring the creature crashing to her doom. With shaking hands slowly turned the key in the lock, flinching as it clicked softly. Huddling herself to the door, she waited a single, painfully long second before tugging it open. Holding her breath as the hinges opened smoothly. Her father must have oiled them earlier. The thought brought on wracking sobs that threatened to end her as they fought to escape her shuddering frame. 

Outside, the night was cold. Fresh snow falling across the deadened landscape. As soon as her toes touched the frigid ground, Amelia lurched to run. Stumbling and sliding, she crashed to the icy ground with a gasping squeal as the ground came up to meet her. Bright colours exploded behind her eyes as a sharp pain jarred her mind against her skull, bouncing teeth sinking into her tongue. She tasted blood as she blinked up at the night sky, starry and clear... far too beautiful for the terror below.

Lifeless mounds lay everywhere she looked. Every sheep, every cow, even the horses lay mangled in pools of their own blood that spread like oil beneath her. And inside the house, an unholy shriek like nothing she'd ever heard echoed her own moaning gasp. 

Sliding along her hands and knees, Amelia swam her way through the freezing night until the sanctuary of grass and dirt gave her some modicum of traction. And with her feet safely beneath her... she RAN. 

Trees and fields passed by in a blur, littered here and there with the mutilated corpses of wild game and livestock. Houses lay empty, windows splattered that same dark black of blood beneath the moonlight. It seemed all the earth was dead and silent, devoured in a single terrible night. And through it all, she ran. Her lungs ached against the freezing air. Her feer split and bled. Her muscles screamed for rest and relief. And still, she ran. Clawing her way through the wooded night, she fled the horrors of this hell with single-minded fury and madness.

 Until finally, out of the stark stillness, a lone figure loomed in the darkness. Like sinner to saviour, Amelia crashed into the waiting arms that scooped her up; cradling her with inexplicable ease as... finally... she began to scream.

What a mess... A gigantic mess. This was a failure of an experiment, and the shadow of a man knew it as he approached. Everything dead, human bodies mutilated and feasted upon. It was absolutely unacceptable, and yet, Carlisle still had a smile on his face. Even with the failure of his creature, he was one step closer to creating the thing he had been trying.

Each successive failure was better and more exciting than his previous venture, but he knew the hand that fed would soon want their plans to come to fruition. He was quickly running out of time.

Then he heard it... The creature roaring out loudly. His ghoul was still feasting? Fighting against something or hunting? Certainly it must have killed everything already. But just in case...

Carlisle rushed toward the furthest house in the village. That was when he saw it. A tiny figure running frantically as fast as her tiny feet could carry her. She hadn't even noticed him, simply running in fear. Her small, white night gown was streaked in blood and dirt, as was her face. It wasn't until she ran directly into Carlisle and he scooped her up into his arms did she start screaming.

"There, there my child... Everything's okay. What happened? Did the big, bad, monster crawl out from under your bed?" He smiled, lifting her and holding her away from him slightly. His eyes bore holes through her own as she locked her gaze onto the most mesmerizing set of icy-blue, glowing eyes. Time seemed to stand still as everything in her body said to run, to scream louder, to do anything to get away... But Carlisle smiled as she stopped kicking and fighting, falling into a trance from his stare.

"Calm yourself. You're okay now. There's nothing to worry about."

As he talked he walked, purposely heading for the sounds of the ghoul's feast. "But I can't let you live, my dear, you understand that, right?"

"Uh huh..." Amelia spoke out softly. "I understand."

"Yes, yes. You're a liability. I can't leave someone alive who's witnessed my abomination. I'm terribly sorry. If you weren't so young I'd simply make you my servant. However, immortal children tend to be a taboo... Even for me." He cackled a bit as he marched to the sound. However, as he entered the house, the feasting sound stopped, followed by gurgling and sloshing. Assuming his creature had smelled the human, he grinned. What happened afterward, he'd not expected though.

Three sets of glowing blue eyes just like his own stared back at him from the shadows of the room freezing him on the spot as his gaze landed on the freshly disemboweled ghoul in the center of the room. Completely covered in blood, the center figure stepped forward and raised his weapon, a crossbow.

"Oh, Hiram... What a delight. My oldest son." Carlisle raised his hand to capture little Amelia's throat. "Do know that bolt will have to stop me before I crush the life from her."

"Oh trust me, Carlisle... That's just to keep you in place."

Not having noticed, one set of the eyes had vanished and the ghostly voice called over his shoulder, sword aimed to strike.

With barely a split second to react, Carlisle spun with Amelia, placing her in harms way which caused Salvatore Black to pull his swing... Hiram released the bolt from the crossbow... Carlisle, however, continued with his spin which placed Amelia back in the way.

Salvatore, knowing it was going to happen, had already thrown himself at Carlisle, knocking them from harms reach. The bolt landed solidly in Salvatore's arm as Carlisle tumbled to the floor, Amelia rolling the opposite direction from him.

The third shadow targeted Carlisle in an instant, eyes rolled back as he mumbled beneath his breath... His aura glowed as he spoke an incantation, a red globule forming in his hand. Blinking, the icy-blue stare rolled back and caught sight of Carlisle rushing to his feet. With a solid throw, the red globules burst on the wall and floor where Carlisle had been mere moments before. Everything where the red substance touched melted away immediately, including a hole in the wall, and on Carlisle's jacket. Where it had touched was slowly spreading and eating outward as if it were hungry. Tossing the coat to the ground before the melting process of the spell spread, Carlisle bolted through the new found hole and left the Brother's and Amelia behind, cursing them as he did so. Foiled again...

Taking a few steps toward their father's exit, Christian planned on giving chase. If it weren't for Salvatore's call, he would have.

"Brother," Salvatore's voice called to him, bringing him back from the blood boiling rage he felt inside of him. Christian turned to face both Hiram and Sal, then followed their gaze to Amelia, who stared at them all, frozen in fear. "What do we do with her?"

"We give her the same freedom we'd offer to any other human."

Christian approached and smiled to Amelia, his eyes causing her to shy away. He was just like the mean man who was going to harm her... But not at the same time.

"Little one, I can make this all go away. You won't remember any of it. If you wish, that is." Amelia had plenty to think about, but did she really want to forget it all? Salvatore took her hand and eased her suffering with his own abilities, and the trio led the young girl back to their home where she would be allowed her freedom, or a choice to stay...

Carlisle ran, and ran, as long as he could to make sure the three brothers were not on his trail. Once he was certain they had not followed, he slowed his pace until he stopped moving entirely. Taking a finger, he ripped literally through the seam of reality and stepped into a different realm, a darker realm, where he was met with a much younger appearing woman.

"Dear Carlisle, my son, how have your experiments been?"

"MOTHER?!" Carlisle exclaimed, surprised by her presence in his own slice of hell... "I, I... They are going remarkable. I make new discoveries daily."

He smiled, feigning confidence. Unfortunate for him, she saw through him in an instant. "You've given me nothing, haven't you? You've afforded me nothing with your useless attempts and excuses. Let me guess, your sons have thwarted your experiments yet again? If you won't deal with them and kill them, then I will. DEAL WITH THIS MISTAKE, CARLISLE!"

With her scream, she vanished from his realm and left him to self...

"Curse them, if they only knew the power that could be theirs. And that young girl. She needs to be dealt with as well, she's seen too much." Sighing, Carlisle returned to his notes to reconsider everything he'd done so far. At least there was still a large supply of demons left to experiment with. Mother dearest made certain of that. He leaned back in his chair and stared down the long hallway of cages filled with the worlds worst of monsters... Human souls in eternal damnation...

Charlie wasn't sure what, exactly, he was supposed to do. He was never sure how to handle new intakes, but the brother's had handed off the young girl to the head of staff as they entered the building and told him to make her comfortable. Sighing, he took her by the hand. "Come on. Let's get you set up with a room."

Each child was different, he'd needed space and time when he'd come in... Now, thirty years later, he still wasn't sure he was ready to teach someone how the world really was. Upon his arrival there was an older gentleman, Sergei, who had handled his teaching... Sergei had been a stern man and taught multiple children just how to behave in the Black home. Charlie had been his last... Now, all these years later, it was his turn as the head of staff, and that alone sent shivers down his spine. He knew the brothers to be kind, but how did he convey that to the young girl?

"It's a nice house, I promise. Plenty of room, and lots of toys for little girls and boys. You'll have plenty of brothers and sisters here, and the three who brought you here? They will take great care of you, I promise. They are kind, and gentle, and..." he paused both in thought and in motion as she tugged back, not moving up the stairs. Looking down at her, he raised a brow.

"I want to go home..." She looked to the floor. "I don't like monsters. They're scary... I want my... My..." She crumpled to the ground and started crying on the spot.

"Oh, oh no no no sweetheart! It's... It's okay! They aren't like other monsters! I MEAN! They aren't monsters... Well, I... It's just," he sighed and turned, but he lost his footing on the frosty-dew stone step, slipping and sliding down. He caught himself before smashing into the ground or the girl, but he'd almost bashed his own head in on the stone... Wouldn't that have been wonderful for the young girl. Thankful for the railing, he pulled himself back to his feet and smiled at the girl.

"Listen, there aren't any monsters here. It's okay. They are just a strange family."

The cleared throat behind him reminded him... There were no railings on these stairs. Turning slowly, he met the brightest of blue gazes in Christian's eyes. Gulping, he grinned weakly.

"Sorry..."

"Do watch your step, Charles. We're tired and unlikely to be able to hold every urge at bay until we've had time to recuperate." Christian's voice was velvety-rich as he spoke, then looked down to the girl, crouching. "I assure you, little one. Charles is a nice man. He wouldn't lie to you... Again. But if you're going to live here, you'll understand the truth of the world, and that there are monsters... They just don't hide underneath your bed."

Standing, Christian headed inside to leave them out in the cold as Amelia processed. Charlie, looking down at her, smiled. "Hey. Call me Charlie, okay? Maybe we get you a nice change of clothes and a warm bath? Warm those bones? Make you feel like home?"

Home? Why'd he have to say home? Everything sounded great up until that point. Amelia teared up and looked at him. "I want to go hooooooommmmeee!"

Charlie sighed and sat down on the cold, frozen step and looked at Amelia. "Come 'ere kid. C'mon." He tugged her into a hug. "I know it sounds stupid, living with monsters when they've hurt your family so badly, but that's not -THESE- monsters. They saved you. Think of them like... Like guardian angels. They listen all across the realms. They make deals with all other sorts of monsters to help keep peace between both worlds. When things, like what hurt your family, surface? They do what they can to minimize the damage to humans. When they find little ones like you who are left without a family? Well, they bring us here to help us. You're free to stay here as long as you'd like, you can go to school, make friends, and they will help you with anything you need. At sixteen, you're welcome to go find a job, or continue your studies. If you're interested in University? Well, they'll put you through school, all expenses paid. You're also welcome to, as I've done, take a job within the house and work for them. I do it because I wanted to pay back their kindness to me."

"If you don't want to stay, you want to forget about the monsters and the bad things in the night? Well, they can make that happen too. You'll go to an orphanage, one they trust and have well vetted, and you'll continue life like normal... But you'll always have this feeling that something doesn't quite make sense." He sighed, why was he explaining all of this stuff to such a young person? It's not like she'd understand all of it anyway. University? She was barely six or seven... She probably hadn't even thought that far.

"Hey, you know what helped me?"

She sniffled and looked up at Charlie, shaking her head.

"Breakfast. Are you hungry?"

She blinked... How could she eat after what she'd just witnessed... But then her stomach betrayed her as the mention of food made it growl. Charlie grinned and swooped the child up, carrying her inside even as she smacked his back and yelled.

"C'mon! I make great pancakes, and eggs with bacon, oh... how do you like your eggs? I bet scrambled, hmm? Yeah... That's probably right." He sat her at the table and went to work, ingredients and utensils flying everywhere. It was comical to watch him rush around. Once everything was going, he turned and looked at her, making her laugh. How he'd become a flour ghost, no one knew, but he'd ended up one.

Though as he stared, he watched the little girl's smile turn into a twisted, silent, horrific gaze as she looked on. Raising a brow as she finally screamed, the brothers already there beside her and moving in what seemed the slowest of motions, he turned and stared a familiar blue gaze in the face.

Charlie found Carlisle's hand around his throat as he was lifted from the ground. Choking and sputtering, Carlisle seemed to move so much faster than the boys as they couldn't seem to get to him in time. "It's about time I finally dealt with you, and the little girl's next..."

Reaching desperately for anything, Charlie was able to grab the iron poker to their kitchen stove and held it between he and Carlisle... "Over my dead body, you fuckin' bastard!" he yelled defiantly as Carlisle grinned... "That can be arranged!" he hissed out, but as he pushed forward and bit into Charlie's neck, he felt the iron of the poker press into his chest cavity... Throwing his head back in agonizing pain, everything seemed to return to normal speed as the boys connected with both Carlisle and Charlie, shoving the two together to drive the poker through Carlisle's chest.

As their father stumbled away from Charlie, he fell back, cursing the young man... What he didn't expect to run into was his only living son, Sullivan as he scrambled across the floor. Looking up at the tall, lanky, figure holding a very familiar blade above his head, Carlisle's eyes flashed. Sullivan Black hesitated as he watched memories of his own mother dying with him being born...

Carlisle, taking that instant, split the seam of the world again and vanished just as the blade's edge drove into the flooring.

"FUUUCK!" Sullivan screamed, and then looked at Charlie. "Fuck... Move! I'll stop the bleeding!" He ripped the blade from the ground and threw it at Hiram before disappearing with Charles into another room.

Christian, Hiram, and Salvatore stayed back with Amelia, comforting her and easing the unrest. Christian looked at Hiram.

"He's never been that brazen. Apparently it's time to rebuild the landscaping with more powerful warding. We need to keep him out. If not for ourselves, for the charges we take one. These humans lives must be safe at all costs, even our comfort."

Hiram nodded, "I agree. You and I will work that out. Wards and the like are your work anyway."

"I'll need help, though." Hiram nodded to his brother as they all awaited Charlie's return.

---

In the other room, Sullivan worked diligently in stitching up Charlie. "Am I going to be one of you, now?" Sullivan chuckled, "No, that's not exactly how that works, dear Charles. It would be a much different process. Now, you didn't loose too much blood. You caught him off guard so he didn't get into your jugular vein; it was just a minor, albeit horrifying I'm certain, injury. I'd say superficial, but, that's underplaying the damage done to the skin. However, you'll live!"

About that time, Charles heard his timer go off.

"THE FOOD!" he yelled, "The girl needs to eat! I've got to..." He stood quickly, and feinted... Sullivan caught him and hoisted him over his shoulder.

---

Back in the kitchen, all eyes had turned to the timer. Hiram moved to stop it, opening the oven and pulling out what Charles had been doing. "Hmm... This looks good actually." He looked back toward the hallway as they heard the door open, and Sullivan carried Charles back into the room. Amelia gasped, tears in her eyes, but Christian put his hand on her shoulder.

"Have no fear, child... I hear his heart beating strongly. Charles is a fighter, even if he's an oaf. He'll survive, I'm certain he just passed out when he yelled about your food when the timer went off."

"Exactly, he jumped up too quickly and passed out..." Sullivan eased Charles into a chair in the den then approached the kitchen. "Something smells good. Have you eaten yet, dear one?"

Sullivan smiled at Amelia, his eyes not bright blue like the others, but a natural blue color instead. Hiram made her a plate and sat it in front of her. Christian pat her shoulder and turned her toward the table... Salvatore, however, shirked away from her and slipped down the hallway.

"Forgive him," Sullivan mentioned quietly, placing a hand on Amelia's upper back and rubbing it softly. His touch was warm, unlike the others. "He can feel every emotion that you're feeling, and it's paining him. He feels your loss, the emptiness and hollowness, the sadness, the confusion, everything. That is his gift. Because of that, it makes it difficult for him to be near you. He doesn't want you to see him that way because it will make it harder for you to process these feelings. He will help you with that though, because as he processes them, so to will you."

With that, Sullivan made himself a plate and joined the girl at the table as the other brothers slipped away. "Charles should wake up shortly. I'm certain he'll be happy to see you've eaten. I promise, he's a damned good cook." Sullivan smiled, then dug in.

As Amelia watched Sal go, a different kind of sadness rippled across her delicate face. She frowned for a moment, chewing her bottom lip, before her thin fingers dipped into the pocket of her bloodstained nightgown. From its silken depths, she pulled a cotton handkerchief, which she laid upon the table and carefully unfolded... it's contents spilling out onto the table. 

A sprig of dried heather tied with a silk ribbon, a blue cat eye marble, a nub of pink crayon, a silver hair barret, an infant-sized mother of pearl locket, and a minuscule doll made of woven thread. These were the child's treasures, no doubt.

Silently, Sullivan watched as she wrapped the tiny doll tightly in her small palm and scurried toward the hall. 

As he slinked down the hall, Sal felt a gentle tug on the back of his shirt. Bracing himself for the onslaught of emotion, he turned to face the little girl... the only person in the house who would approach him so. Much to his surprise, however, he was met with a calm sense of compassion and guarded bravery as she shoved the pain and horror of the night to the farthest reaches of her heart. Monster or not, no one should have to feel this pain. 

Taking him by the hand, she gently pressed the teensy little cloth dolly into his upturned palm. Still holding his hand tightly, she met his striking blue gaze with a shy kind of courage as she told him softly, "It's a worry doll. My... my mommy made her for me."  For a split second the weight of the night threatened to drown her. But as she looked up at Sal's pained expression, the choking grief was quickly replaced with calm gratitude. "If you whisper your bad feelings to her, she'll take them away..." she explained, tilting her head to one side, "... kind of like you." 

Chewing her lip, Amelia stared down at her feet, "I want you to have her. You need her more than me... because I have you now." Reaching up, she closed his fingers around the little doll, giving his fist a gentle pat. "Yeah... I have you now." Shooting him a shy, awkward, and very forced half-smile, she turned and waddled back into the kitchen, leaving him to stare down at the small gift in his hand. 

Stumbling back into the kitchen, she wrapped her hankie back up and stuffed it into her pocket with a sigh so heavy it was worthy of adulthood. For a second she stared at the eggs, wrinkling her nose as she sniffed them. She was hungry, but she couldn't eat. 

Instead, she simply turned and stared at the small puddle of blood left on the floor from Carlisle's attack. 

"He won't leave me alone, will he? I'll always know... even if I don't remember. Won't I?" 

She glanced over at Sullivan, who paused mid-bite... his expression all the answer she needed. "I don't want to be afraid for no reason. Everyone always said the monster in the barn wasn't real... but I was scared anyway. It's not a nice feeling. At least when people don't lie you can feel better... even if you're still scared." Absentmindedly, she pet the bundle of treasures that bulged from her pocket. "I don't want to go to an orphanage," she told Sully softly, "And I don't want to forget. I don't want to have missing pieces. I have enough of those already...." her lip trembled at the reference to her family. 

Blinking back the tears, she turned away from the blood. "I can't eat right now. Not with... everything in my head," she glanced up at Sully, who nodded knowingly. "May I... may I take a bath, please," she asked, tugging at the quickly drying, sticky, bloody mess of her nightgown. 

Sully, standing, scooped her up. "Of course, Dear One. Would you like me to wash your hair?" Huddled against his chest, Amelia simply nodded as he carried her up the long winding staircase to a small room upstairs. 

It was the first of many nights in that room... all equally fitful and drenched with nightmares of bright blue eyes like cruel winter skies. The brothers would become her new family. Eventually allowing her to take over Charlie's position as head of staff. She would learn all there was to know about this dark underworld that existed just beneath the patina of normal life. And she would even become a partner in their fight to protect the precarious fragility of human life. 

Eventually, that horrific night would seem like a distant memory, or even a blessing... the monster that hunted her a whisper of a fairy tale long forgotten. But twenty years later, Amelia would awaken in that very same bed, an unknowably familiar wet chill drenching her in a cold sweat as those cruel blue eyes stared at her from the shadows of the void. 

Would he ever leave?