“The entire village surged to the source of light. Some with pitchforks and some with torches, shouting—‘Kill the beast!’
The villagers had anger and determination in their eyes. The beast had done enough damage—missing adults and even children. They all knew the cause of the deaths, but they were too scared of the beast. It was a dark creature that operated in the shadows. Survivors testified to the horrors of the creature: it had supernatural speed and strength, and magic it used to play mind games, sometimes luring villagers to its huge old house.
Once the sun went down, the town went ghostly, but it didn't stop the beast from feasting.
The village was only able to gather the courage to rid themselves of the dark monster when a brave mother lost her only child to the darkness and was determined to avenge her child that day. It was in the afternoon and the sun was out, but the fire coming from the monster's house was as hot as the sun—maybe hotter.
Among the crowd, there was a huntress, the only person going in the opposite direction from the crowd. She had a hood on and carried a basket on her back.
A villager stopped her and asked, “Please, did you find my son?”
The huntress replied with remorse, “I am sorry. I found nothing.”
The woman continued to cry as she walked away.
But the huntress wasn't telling the absolute truth. She didn't find her son, but still she didn't find anything.
The huntress was the most skilled in the village and was sent to scout the monster's house for any survivors before they burned it down.
The huntress went in and found only a dry corpse. But just in the middle of the hollow house, there were two coffins. One was a huge red one, and the other was little, like a baby's cradle—black.
She opened them both. In the big one was a beautiful woman with long black silk hair, sleeping like an ethereal goddess—her skin pale and cold. A monster.
And in the little coffin was a baby just like its mother, but like a little angel.
They were going to burn the house down, and the huntress couldn't leave the innocent child to burn for its mother's sins. She took the child, wrapped it in cloth, and hid it in her basket.
She believed that with the right guidance, the baby was going to be different from its mother.
While the village burned down the monster's house, she carried the child far away into the forest, where she raised it as her own. And one day, the child was going to use its nature to do good and become one of the greatest heroes of humanity. "
“Again! Again! Again!” Rose never got tired of her mom telling her the story of the huntress and the monster's child. It was her favorite story.
“It's late now, little pumpkin. You need to sleep so you can wake up strong for me tomorrow,” Sheila said as she dimmed the lantern until the room was almost dark.
“What about you, Mommy? You need to sleep too,” Rose said.
“Don't worry, I just need to get the wood I chopped in the day inside so it doesn't get wet while we sleep. I will be back in a jiffy to join you.” Sheila kissed Rose on the head and covered her with her sheet.
Sheila left to fetch the wood. A few minutes waiting for Sheila felt like forever for Rose.
Finally, she heard a bang on the door. She didn't think twice, just like any five-year-old would. She jumped out of her bed and rushed to the door.
She swung it open, smiling from ear to ear, excited to see her mommy.
“Mommy, I wa—” Rose stopped the moment she realized it wasn't her mother. Instead, a huge shadow loomed over her. The huge man in front of her had shiny armor on, stained with the kind of paint Rose and her mother made from red wildflowers.
Rose stumbled back in fear.
The man said with a shaky, lifeless voice, “Help me,” then fell like wood to the floor.
Rose stood still on the spot, no idea what to do—scared. She couldn't resist the metallic scent that filled the air.
She stared at the man; he was pale, and his breath rattled like a dying flame.
Rose could hear a faint, weak thumping from the man.
Rose fidgeted. She felt hungry. Her eyes glowed faintly. Her lips slightly moved apart to make space for her fangs, growing slowly. She reached for the soldier; she felt her limbs move closer to him slowly, like she was being controlled. She yearned for something she didn't understand.
Before she knew it, she was kneeling beside the strange man, in fear and confusion, with no idea what her next actions would be—or the reason for them.
Just then, Sheila arrived at the scene. On seeing Rose beside the dying soldier, she dropped the wood in her hand in shock and fear. What she had built for so long was about to come crumbling down.
All her life, she had trained Rose to be a normal child. She had done her best. Now it was nature versus nurture.
“Rose,” Sheila softly called as she approached with caution.
Sheila reached her, trembling.
“Mommy.” Rose looked up, eyes glowing red, but Sheila could still see the fear in her eyes.
Sheila took Rose into her arms and hugged her tight. “It's okay. I am here now.” She felt Rose relax into her arms and the tension leave.
She took Rose back into the room.
“Mommy, are we going to be okay?” Rose asked, scared.
“Yes, pumpkin, everything is going to be fine. Just stay here for Mommy, okay?” Sheila said with tears.
Sheila rushed back to the man, and with her first aid skills, she was able to revive him.
She went back and held Rose tighter, praying it would be enough.
That night, nurture had won—but nature still waited. For now, light had triumphed over the dark.
But deep down, Sheila knew the battle had only just begun.
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