With the five strange men, the four adults of the family, and the five eldest boys there’s just enough room for them all to sit and be comfortable. Thankfully, the youngest ate long ago and only the older members of our two families were finishing our meal. We only have room for a table that seats fourteen so our combined family of twenty-seven eats in shifts. Everyone’s combined effort making the extra food helped enough so that the soldiers didn’t get too agitated with only beer to fill their stomachs. Through the doorway Mama and I carry platters of meat and set them at the table between the plates and mugs. Dirty hands tear into the meat like the mouths of starving wolves and Mama pauses before she takes her seat between Papa and Peter.

Aunt had already navigated the rest of the children to bed before Mama and I served the meat. “Once they’re fed and full of beer,” Aunt whispers to the three of us older girls, “I’ll let you all join Veronica and the rest in the barn. I should have sent out enough blankets for everyone.” She lowers her voice more and eyes each of us individually. “Be careful. We’ll drink these men under the table if we can, but if they still manage to get indecent thoughts and find a way to the barn without a sound -” she looks at me, “- defend yourselves and each other.” I nod confidently and my two older cousins look nervous. Aunt takes her seat between Uncle and Jr. and motions us to keep the mugs full.

It barely takes a moment before we notice mugs emptying; not much later we see empty plates and I bring in more meat that I couldn’t fit on the table earlier. The soldiers go on about what they think about war, bringing the boys, Uncle, and Papa into it frequently. The topics change multiple times the more they drink, including various vulgar stories and jokes. Mama keeps a straight face but Aunt isn’t so skilled at ignoring the more raunchy details. Still, she keeps quiet and tolerates everything with her hand squeezing Uncle’s. I learned a few things about my cousins and brothers that I didn’t think I’d ever guess: Jr. and Sean frequently delve into conversations about fighting, Jr. also pays extremely close attention to the stories about women along with Ben, and Peter and Matt just sit uncomfortably with the occasional blush after a certain point. I don’t blame Peter and Matt for their blushes since the latest jokes are particularly descriptive and involve gestures. There are quite a few words that I don’t understand but what I figure out makes me regret reading that anatomy book.

The point we all feared comes when Miranda is filling the mug of a soldier they called ‘Terry’ who slams his mug every time he finishes a gulp. When she takes the pitcher away from the mug he catches her arm. “It can fit more than that! Fill it all the way.” The soldier next to him bursts out in laughter.

“Isn’t that what the whores tell you?” The rest of the soldiers join in with bellows.

“I doubt you ever do!” Another joins in and Terry glows red in anger, his hand still gripping Miranda’s arm. She tries to take it back but that just makes him notice her.

“Don’t listen to them,” he smirks at her and eyes her, “my women only moan.” Uncle bangs his mug against the table like he was slamming it at Terry. Each man goes silent and Terry releases Miranda’s hand with a jolt. As soon as Miranda gets away from Terry, Papa laughs as loud as he can.

“Gettin’ too drunk to keep your arm up, huh? Joe, I thought you were a respectable big brother.” The silence returns to loud, mocking chaos and I switch places with Miranda, telling her she should go. She nods with red eyes and leaves through the back door, Aunt following just a step behind her.

“You sure have some pretty sisters here, boys,” I hear from the corner of the table. The one who spoke is the man who brags the most, Red. “I bet you chase away a lot of rascals coming down to take a gander.” All of the boys are pretty drunk by now even though they haven't had half as much as Aunt (mother doesn't partake since she's pregnant); our parents wouldn’t let us refill their mugs until we were given permission to.

“What? You must be kidding!” Ben laughs. Red grins at him then eyes Eleanor and me.

“I’m telling you,” he starts up again without breaking his line of sight, “we have some promising young ladies in our midst.” Some of the other men hear what he says and stop their conversation. Papa invades the topic.

“Maybe in a few years we’ll find out. Right now they’re just sprouts.” Junior nods sleepily at Papa’s words.

“They’re not even worth a glance,” he speaks a little louder than normal and points at Red. “The women in Bristow, they’re the real beauties.” He has no idea how glad I am that he just insulted us. The way Red looked at us made my stomach turn. I try to forget it and refill someone’s glass but notice him looking at me. I get a cold spark in my brain and hurry to fill the mug so I can go back to my spot on the wall behind Red, away from his line of sight.

“I don’t know about that Junior, this one behind me is worth at least a couple glances. If she’s just a sprout I can only imagine the full grown version.”

“Don’t go there, man,” Sean warns, “trust me, Feline’s not even human!”

“Sean!” Papa barks. Sean sinks back into his seat with his drink, looking away. “It’s gotten late, gentlemen. I suggest we all get some sleep; if we don’t stop now I don’t think we’ll get any rest before tomorrow.” The soldiers all mumble and nod in agreement, leaving their plates where they are and taking one last gulp. A couple of them pat the boys or Papa on the back with compliments about the beer, food, or the time they had before stumbling into the room we prepared. Papa sighs after closing the door and a somber expression now hangs from his face. “Go to bed everyone.” He glances at Sean for a moment before motioning him to follow.

“You did a good job,” Mama hugs us as tightly as she can with a growing baby in the way. “I’ll clean up here. You two go to the barn.” We mutter thanks as she kisses us goodnight and I follow Eleanor to the back. Aunt is standing at the open door to the barn, keeping watch I suppose. She doesn’t resemble an imposing figure in the least but somehow I wish that she would never leave that spot. Just as the thought enters my head she moves toward us in swift steps and arms held out.

“Are you okay?” She asks us as she holds onto the both of us, her long arms easily able to complete a huge hug.

“I’m fine,” Eleanor responds.

“Me too,” I agree.

“Good,” she lets us go. “I’m sorry to say this but the night isn’t over yet. Take turns watching over each other. Miranda’s really shaken up, try to get her to sleep if you can.” Eleanor nods to her mother.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I’ll make sure nothing happens,” I tell Aunt. Eleanor looks like she feels somewhat better but Aunt looks sad. I guess she doesn’t want to rely on a twelve year old to protect a third of the family from a few drunken men, even if I am stronger than any normal man.

“I know,” she responds then kisses us both on our heads lovingly. “Good night.” Eleanor and I hurry into the barn and close the door with a bag of grain leaning up against it. Between Heather and Ethan’s stalls we see a cluster of young girls and one boy between 9 and 11 years old huddled against each other, covered in blankets. Miranda sits next to the warm lamp light that almost seems cold since it doesn’t seem to give her any comfort; she sits on the ground staring at nothing.

“Miranda,” Eleanor calls out to her. She rushes over to us and hugs us like we just escaped certain death.

“Are you okay? Did they touch you too?” She whispers in a panic. I give her a second hug and speak to her in my most calming voice.

“We’re fine, we are all going to be fine.” I let her out of my arms and look her right in the eye, “I won’t let them near you.” She calms down a bit and her tense face relaxes to a point that I can see the beginnings of a small smile.

“Okay,” is all she says before guiding us to the lantern she was sitting by before we came in.

“You should try to get some rest,” Eleanor tells her, “Feline and I can stay up tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we can keep each other awake. You should sleep.”

“Alright,” she must have been waiting for us to come before she allowed herself to relax. “Good night,” she tells us.

“Good night,” we echo. She takes her blanket and lays up against the rest of our family. Eleanor and I spend the next hour or so playing written games in the dirt floor. When we were small she was the one who taught me words and how to write when Mama was busy. She and Miranda are only two years older than me and each just as much of a big sister to me as Abigail was. Eleanor and Abigail were also best friends before Abigail died last winter. I want to ask Eleanor if she misses her as much as I do but I can’t pull the words out of my mouth. If I start talking about it then we’ll both start crying and then there will be one of those really long, heavy silences. I’d rather keep this silence, the kind that has a purpose rather than the one you wish you could break.

I win my first game after several losses to my amazingly clever cousin but suddenly freeze when we both hear something pound against the door. It’s not really that loud but nervousness means we both heard it like it was right next to us. The door suffers a second hit while Eleanor slips closer beside me. I can hear my blood being pushed through my veins and it’s like the first time I was face to face with a mountain lion. I know that if one of the soldiers manages to get in then I’ll definitely attack. What I need to do is to not hurt him, if I hurt him then the others will find out and then they’ll go tell everyone, and I might be taken away or even killed out of fear. But what if I kill them? No, I can’t do that. Well, I can; what I meant to say is that I shouldn’t, but I could.

While I’m thinking a thousand things a bag of grain slides away along with the door opening. I didn’t consider the possibility of someone being able to move it since I can’t discern how much something weighs; most things are light to me. The lantern’s glow catches Terry’s figure. “Leave, now!” I order him. Eleanor isn’t beside me anymore and I hope she’s with the others.

“Ah, it’s the little one,” he walks closer. A second figure slides through the doorway and I see that it’s one they called ‘Jim’. They’re both twice my size and I wonder how I’m going to work this out. I can’t let either one of them past me. “Oh, there’s the second one too.”

“Get out of here,” Eleanor’s voice comes from behind me. What does she think she’s doing?!

“Come on, is this how you treat guests?” Red walks up behind Jim and smiles. I get a bitter taste in my mouth just from looking at them.

“I’m warning you now, leave!” I shout, waking up some of the girls. I hear Miranda whispering to them, having them go into Ethan’s stall. She’s doing fine for someone so shaken up before and I’m quite proud of her.

“That’s the one that isn’t human, right?” Jim laughs, “boy, is she scary.” The others laugh too and walk closer without a trace of fear. They wouldn’t normally be afraid considering the fact that they’re three grown men facing two girls aged at fourteen and twelve. I take a quick look at Eleanor and find that she has an ax.

“I wonder why your own family said such mean things,” Red says to me. “You poor girl.”

“Eleanor, give me the ax and go with the others,” I hold out my hand to her.

“You can’t handle all three, Feline.”

“I can do far better than you!” I feel the handle slip into my hands and hear her running back to the stall.

“Isn’t she the cutest little hero you’ve ever seen?” Terry laughs. I take my one-handed stance and wait for one to come within range. Even though we have a big barn their pace isn’t slow; Red approaches me from the front. I swing at him like I have a scythe, without losing my balance, the sound of the ax cutting through air is the only result. He saw me coming and backed up at the last second. Their faces reveal their surprise followed by anger. It looks like they’re not about to be warded off by a little girl even if she has a weapon. The other two try to sneak around me but I catch them off guard by putting strength into my legs and reaching the one closest to the girls, Terry. Using my empty hand I grab him and throw him at Jim. They both fly into a stack of tools, breaking whatever's in there. Red stares at me with wide eyes and mouth pulled back like he’s about to shout. Before he gets the chance to, I throw my ax at him. I’ve never thrown an ax before so instead of it cutting into him the dull end lands on his stomach and knocks him on his rear.

All three men are still alive, judging by their groans. I’d like to say that I don’t know what to do but that’d be a lie. If I was in the same setting but instead of defending against men, if they were animals, then I would kill them on the spot. They would find their way back here sooner or later or maybe even return the attack without holding back. “They saw me,” I tell Miranda without looking away from the three men. They’re already starting to get up, Jim looks like he’s in pain.

“The fucking bitch threw me!” Terry screams.

“Shut the hell up! I think I got stabbed by something!” Jim returns the curses. Red is merely gasping for air with his hands against his gut. He picks up the ax and uses it to help himself to his feet.

“Not... human,” is all Red can force out.

“We gotta get rid of this thing,” Jim tells the others.

“Don’t look,” is the only thing I can stand to say as a warning to the others. I’m not worried about Jim or Terry anymore; the problem is that Red has my ax. The only real comfort is that at least they don’t care about the other kids anymore. I take the initiative and leap straight at Red before he can compose himself. He has time to cross his arms and block me but the ax is pointed downwards. I ram into him and we fall back into wooden crates. He’s stunned for a second but I don’t pause. With both hands I punch him repeatedly. On the first strike I break bone, on the second I break the shaft of the ax; both times I hear a crack and feel the snap beneath my knuckles. In the next four punches I can feel the cracking of bones from his arms and chest. Each time I bring a fist back down on him blood splatters further. In only one more hit the force brings me to crash through his abdominal muscles and my hand sinks deep into the organs of his chest cavity. The inside is warm so when I pull my hand out there’s a bit of steam as it moves through the chilled air. The light cast from the lantern gives the blood a vibrant color; like the inside of a berry. I only now realize that I don’t know where the other two are.

Before I can look for them something hits me on the side of the head. It doesn’t hurt but stings my skin and my head jolts to the side. Twisting around from my position I find Terry and Jim with a shovel and a sledgehammer. As our eyes meet I see blatant terror and Terry takes another shot at my head. I wince at it and he begins to scream while swinging it at me again. I catch it with my blood soaked hand and rip it from his grasp. “I warned you,” I mutter as I reposition the shovel to wield it and rise to my feet in one motion. “You could have just left. You could have just gone to sleep and left in the morning.” Jim drops his sledgehammer and they both run for the door. I run after them, switch the shovel for the hammer, and narrowly catch them just as they are about to reach the door. I swing the hammer into Jim’s side and hear the crack of his bones. Jumping after Terry, I throw the hammer at his legs and he starts screaming for help. He can’t move with my monumental weight over him. I need to stop his screaming so I hold him down, crawl to his head, and grab onto his thick neck with my small hands. I’m able to keep him in place but I can’t grasp his neck so I crush his throat with my fist, over and over until he stops twitching.

“Feline?” I hear from the other side of the barn.

“Don’t come out yet!” I scream. With two dead I just need to kill the third. Not far off from my left I see the barely visible outline of Jim’s body. He’s not moving but I approach him anyway; he’s not breathing either but just to make sure I break his neck in the same manner as before.

“Feline.” A small sound from where the others are makes me yell out again.

“I said not to come out yet!” Standing back up and turning to where Ethan’s stall is, I hold my breath. Eleanor and Miranda are staring at me, I’m not sure who they’re afraid of anymore. I don’t get an obvious clue or have the time to ask. The front barn door slams open and people burst. The first one they notice is Terry yet what worries me is that the screams of men are drowned out by the screams of my mother.