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I half expected to wake up on a fluffy cloud with angels singing my praises for vanquishing a dreadful foe. Wouldn’t that have been nice? Maybe in another life.

Instead, I opened my eyes to Colson’s dopey face looking down at me, impatience obvious. He was in the process of slapping my cheek and I registered his mouth was moving but couldn’t quite hear him.

Slowly coming to my senses, my hearing kicked in gradually.

“… ey… han… OI, ETHAN. WAKE UP, KID!”

Wincing, I opened my mouth to yell at him, but my voice wouldn’t come out.

Colson saw my attempt and got the hint. He stopped slapping me, putting a hand on my chest. There was a faint green light glowing around where he held me down.

“There ya go. Stay down, kid. Your body’s still healing. Don’t try to speak, part of your larynx was pulled out, it’ll take a while for it to regenerate,” he said impatiently.

Regenerate? Not that I was complaining, but how was that even possible? Instead of asking I just lay there, body unmoving. I could feel aches in places I didn’t even know you could have them. My freaking teeth hurt. The worst came from the wounds I’d sustained in the fight, my abdomen, arm, back and neck. They were sore, pounding and… itchy!

Seems like whatever was healing me up, had the unfortunate side effect of causing madness-inducing itchiness. I wanted to scratch at it.

“Don’t even think about picking at your scabs or I’ll slap you silly. I don’t know how much juice this Blessing has left.”

I managed to stick my tongue out at him, and he laughed. Did I die? It felt as if I’d died.

Shuddering, I recalled the sensation of life leaving me, my heart futilely pumping blood out of the hole in my neck.

The more I thought about it, the more my mind started spiralling out of control again, replaying the fight over and over. I’d fought a monster. A fucking monster. Was it dead? Rapidly panicking, I started thrashing under Colson’s grasp. His grip held firm and he looked at me with sad eyes.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing me say this, but you can relax kid. It’s dead, don’t worry.”

His words penetrated my addled brain after a couple more feeble attempts at moving and I lay still again, heart racing. My heart. It was working as intended. I focused on the beats and gradually calmed at the thumping sensation.

“You did good," he supplied after a minute, "truthfully, I wasn’t expecting you to tie like that, but you put up one hell of a fight. It was a treat to watch. Try not to think about it as much, right now. The trauma is still fresh in your mind.”

Obviously. Huffing out a breath I managed an annoyed snort.

“Yeah, I know. Couple more minutes.”

We waited it out and the green light disappeared.

“Alright, try to sit up,” he instructed, moving his hand from my chest, and turning on the light in his phone.

Doing so, I sat up slowly, supporting my body with my hands. Damn, I was sore—but otherwise fine. I checked my abdomen, not even a scar. The scabs had already fallen off. He handed me some water and I nearly emptied the bottle.

“Try saying something,” he instructed.

“I hate you so much” I managed in a hoarse whisper and found that I did mean it a little.

Whatever Colson’s intentions, he’d made me fight a monster and nearly die in the process. The wounds I’d sustained weren’t only to my body.

When I talked, I could feel the crusty grime and blood on my face cracking with the movement of my mouth. Disgusting.

“I get it. And again, I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I pictured it would go when I picked you up the other day,” Colson sounded, apologetically.

“Tell me why you did it, then,” I demanded.

“In a moment,” his voice was sorrowful but unyielding. “Let’s get you upright and head outside, we’ll find somewhere to get some grub. I know you aren’t sensing it right now, but you’ll feel hunger soon.”

To my surprise, I was feeling it already. Anger decreasing, I felt a hollow pit in my stomach, growling at the mention of food. After a moment I tried moving my legs and they didn’t feel unsteady, so I stood up slowly.

“There you go. Make sure you’ve got stable footing before you walk around. Don’t want you to fall over and get hurt all over again.”

Taking a few tentative steps, I did feel a dizzy spell coming on. After a couple of deep breaths, I tried again. It didn’t escape my attention that there was a raised bundle lying on the ground off to the side, in the dark. That was a problem for immediate-future-Ethan.

“Stay here for a mo’, we need to get you cleaned up before we go anywhere,” Colson instructed. He moved to the entrance and grabbed the bag he’d set down earlier.

Dumping on the ground next to me, he bent down and rummaged around for a second before setting down a couple of large bottles of water, some towels, and wet wipes.

“Use these to clean up a little. Can’t have you going out there looking like you just committed a murder. There’s a fresh set of your clothes in there as well.”

“Didn’t I, though? Kill someone, I mean?” I asked as I grabbed some water and a towel, wiping myself down.

“Not someone, something. And it wasn’t murder, it was self-defence. It won’t be missed. The planelost usually roam around alone, too territorial to share space. There are exceptions of course.”

Not responding I just focused on getting as clean as I could.

“Use some of the wipes on your face. Here, hold still, I’ll give you a hand.”

Standing still with my eyes closed I let him wipe some of the grime off.

“Colson.”

“Mm?”

“Why aren’t I a gibbering mess on the floor? I was a wreck before we even met that thing, and now I’m all calm. It makes no sense.”

“Battle-fatigue, fight or flight, and you’re simply too tired to care much right now,” he wiped around my eyes while he spoke. “It’ll come back gradually. Trauma like you’ve just had comes in stages, it’s a process your brain goes through. It blocks some things off. Some are immediate, and some take time, although it’s different for everyone. There are ways to process the shock. I’ll teach you all about that, don’t worry.”

“What if I don’t want to be taught? What if I just want to go home?”

“’Fraid you can’t, kid. Your father was very clear on that. He didn’t tell me the specifics, just that you’d be tied to me until you’re eighteen. You’re stuck with me.”

Rage smouldered at the mention of my dad; at the implication that I was just some item he could give away, but before I could comment he continued.

“’Sides, you’ve got a foot in this world now and it doesn’t let go easily,” he rubbed vigorously at my forehead. “Why you haven’t been taught all this stuff from birth I have no idea, but there’s bound to be a reason. Despite everything, aren’t you curious about what’s going on?”

I kept my mouth shut while he cleaned the rest of my face. I was curious. Despite my soreness, hunger, and increasing weariness, I wanted to know what this was all about.

“There,” he said after a minute. “We’ve got the worst of it. There’s still some gunk in your hair, but since it’s black it’s not obvious. Clean your arms and put on some fresh clothes. Then we’ll see about the empousa.”

A couple of minutes later I felt relatively clean and a bit invigorated, the fresh clothes going a long way to help that along.

“Great. Much better. Come on, let’s take a look at your handiwork. If you start feeling bad or anything, just step away for a minute,” he instructed before he picked up a wet wipe and walked to the corpse.

Preparing myself as much as I could mentally, I followed him.

It was hideous in death. Just as much as it’d been in life. Seeming smaller than when I’d fought it, the knife was still stuck in the side of its head. Its mouth was open, tongue lolling out, eyes wide. As though the recognition of imminent death was captured in its expression. Looking at it now, I realised it didn’t affect me like I thought it would. My emotions were… apathetic.

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Colson moved down and unceremoniously pulled the knife out, a dry schlunk accompanying it. He used a wet wipe to clean it, talking while he looked the corpse over.

“Empousa – that’s the human term anyway. Humanoid. Eats people to sustain itself and get stronger over time. Young, by the looks of it. No idea how it crossed over. Outside of the treaties, I’d assume. Twenty-six confirmed murders in this location, perhaps more elsewhere. We’ll only know for certain if the normals find more corpses.” His voice was clinical. Detached. He was talking to himself for my benefit.

Normals? People like me, probably. Or as I used to be.

“How’d it get here?” I asked, surprising myself.

“That’s the thousand-dollar question, isn’t it? I didn’t sense a fissure anywhere or feel residuals from a summoning ritual. Must’ve been holed up here for a while. I have no idea.”

His statements were just raising more and more questions.

“Alright, kid,” he turned to me. “Go pick up your phone and head outside. I’ll join you in a moment.”

“Why, what’re you gonna do?”

“Gather proof of kill,” he said, eyes cold. “Unless you wanna stay in here while I cut its head off.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Got it, I’ll go outside,” I felt nausea creeping in at the prospect. “Want me to grab the bag?”

“Nah, I need something to carry it in. Go on.”

Walking to the point he’d indicated, I found my phone and headed out. When I entered the street outside it was daylight and people were scuttering about. I must’ve been out for a while. I looked at my phone. 11:34 AM. Letting the sun heat my face, I just enjoyed the feeling of being outside and getting some fresh air. I don’t know how long I stood there, but I heard the door go up and Colson walked up beside me bag in hand.

“Done and dusted. You look presentable,” he concluded. Then he sniffed at the air. “Nothing we can do about the smell. Let’s find a café where we can sit outside and get something to eat.”

Walking to the main street, we found a place that served burgers. Colson ordered a beer for himself and a coke and water for me, while I perused the menu. Selecting one with everything, plus an extra patty and side order, we sat in silence and sipped our drinks for a while.

“Monsters are real,” I stated.

Colson nodded.

“Yep, sure are. Monsters, sprites, spirits, other species of humanoids, creatures of all kinds. Everything you can think of, and worse, running around out there.”

“How isn’t this common knowledge by now? Everyone has a camera on their phone, surely someone somewhere captured something and let it slip?”

“Hoh-yeah,” he chuckled. “Happens all the time. And the last time you saw a video where I could probably vouch for its legitimacy, you’d write it off as a hoax.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Come on, humanity can’t be that gullible, can it?”

“People believe what they wanna believe. More often than not, people get a fleeting glimpse of something and then it’s gone, so they write it off as happenstance. They rarely hold a conversation like you had with the empousa and it usually ends up with that person dying."

I suppose I could buy that.

"Tell me," he continued, "if you went back to your school and told them you’d fought a maneater to a standstill—even if you had the footage—would they believe you?”

“They’d probably run away because I was talking to them, but otherwise say it was CGI,” I admitted.

“Exactly!" he pointed at me like I'd just proven his entire point.

"Humanity’s advancement is also its disadvantage. Many years ago, a photo of a creature could bring you headlines, tourism, and large sums of money. Just look at Bigfoot or Nessie. The images were much harder to fake but were rare because the quality was bad and nobody had a camera. Nowadays, everybody has a camera, but the footage is extremely easy to fake. And a lot of the footage is still honestly really terrible.”

Thinking about it for a minute I had to admit to myself that he was right. Any person with half-decent animation skills could probably remake my fight.

“Alright, but surely the governments around the world know? They have a vested interest in keeping people safe, right?” I asked.

“They do. Some of the creatures I could mention are actually in government positions. When you get further up the food chain, it’s pretty common knowledge.”

“They’ve infiltrated the governments?”

Colson shook his head, a sheepish expression on his face.

“You’re thinking of monsters like the empousa running for office. Think bigger. It’s not infiltration, it’s legitimate jobs. Creatures, people really, smarter than you and me, enjoy having a job and a sense of purpose. They've worked their way up—most of them.”

“Why hasn’t some diplomat or politician somewhere blown it wide open?”

This news shocked me on a fundamental level. There was a big conspiracy going on. Maybe lizard people were real.

“Some try, they get shut down pretty quickly,” Colson held up a fist and extended his fingers one by one as he counted them off, his rings glinting in the sunlight. “First, they get told off. If that doesn’t work then it’s smear campaigns, demotions, bribes, ‘accidents’, and some are outright killed off. You name it.”

My mouth was hanging open at this point.

“But isn’t that a massive abuse of power? Who holds them accountable?”

“The Board of Enforcement," Colson uttered the words like that settled everything, "they’re both arbiter and executioner. They investigate all that stuff, along with monster attacks territory disputes, and so on. Established in Europe in 964. If there’s suspicion of foul play, they can step in. Then there’s the shaky treaty between the different factions around the world, swearing to uphold a set of rules. Most are cosigned these days,” Colson had taken on a lecturing tone.

“Most large organisations have an intelligence department, the Board included. They’ve got teams scouring the web, especially social media, for any references that might be real. But the vast majority have a vested interest in keeping the peace and staying secret.”

“Okay, I get it,” I took a sip of water. “Everyone tries to live peacefully together. But there’s still a massive flaw.”

“First of all, that’s an overstatement. There are plenty of rogue elements out there. Not everyone is happy with the way things are. Secondly, while the factions generally do try to stay within the lines, there’ll sometimes be massive powerplays and corruption going on, just like in ‘normal’ politics. And thirdly, oh yeah, what’s that?” he asked, intrigued.

“Not everyone is a shapeshifter, right? So how the hell can they function in society with nobody the wiser?”

“Ah, that’s where the veils and masks come in. Some creatures—the empousa for instance—are bodymorphemic shapeshifters, but unless they’re very old, their shifts aren’t flawless. You saw its copper leg, I bet. A trait all empousa carry and one it hadn’t learned to hide, yet. It was using its inherent ability to charm, to lure people in. They’re also on the weaker side. There are creatures far bigger and more powerful than the empousa, that could take on the shape of a chihuahua if they wanted to."

He took a sip of water before he continued.

"The vast majority are roughly our size, or a bit smaller or bigger, and many learn a nifty little piece of magic called "veils". They use some of their power to draw a veil over their being and keep it in place, so they look and sound human. Veils take a bit of know-how to use, but once they're in place, they're more or less undetectable until a creature uses its power—then it shatters."

That was interesting. It meant that any number of people I'd run into could be a monster in disguise. It also made me shudder, for the very same reason.

"Some," he kept on talking, ignoring my goosebumps, "use rituals and rites to craft masks from various materials they can then wear. They allow you to cast magic and stay disguised, but they can be dangerous. It’s usually a powerful ritual and you risk becoming the person you’re pretending to be, over time."

My mind was blown. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting going into this conversation, but this wasn’t it.

“How long has this been going on for?” my voice was the barest whisper.

“Since homo sapiens became the sole human variant to walk the earth. Some of the First are even older than that,” he answered dutifully.

“The First?”

“The First,” he said the words with a hint of reverence. “Old, strong, powerhouses in their own right. No gods are walking the Earth, but they’re the closest thing we have. I know for a fact one of them is more than thirty thousand years old, but a couple are probably older.”

Speechless didn’t cover it. I was dumbstruck. Our food arrived and I was famished, so I dug in and put all the questions queueing up on hold. It was heavenly, and Colson didn’t comment even though I annihilated the burger and side order in less than five minutes.

“One thing,” I said after I was done eating and leaning back in my chair, sipping my soda.

Colson was still finishing his fries.

“Shoot.”

“Why the need for secrecy at all? Couldn’t they have announced themselves years ago, and lived side by side with humanity?”

“Kid, I like you, but that’s fucking stupid. There’s a reason we try to keep a lid on it.”

Slightly offended at his tone, I was about to object when he started elaborating.

“Listen, humans are… finicky at the best of times. You might think monsters and otherworldly creatures can be bad, but humans are capable of wide-scale destruction and annihilation of life on a scale nobody has ever managed to match. I don’t care how big, old, or strong you are, if a nuclear– or hydrogen bomb is detonated near you, you’re dust.”

“We’re not that bad,” I muttered in protest.

“Since the 1800’s, more than 35 million people have died in wars. In 2023 there were two billion people without clean water. Three and a half billion without proper sanitation. More than eight hundred million go hungry every day, even though we produce enough food on the planet to feed the entire population. Racism is still an issue in many places, and discrimination as well. Not to mention that wars are still being fought over religious and cultural differences. How do you think people would react if they were told that entirely different species lived alongside them and have done so for thousands of years?” he asked rhetorically.

Already knowing the answer, there was no reason for me to reply.

“Sorry if I’m ranting here. I’m not saying it’s all bad. Humanity achieves great things, most people are wonderful, and it tries to better itself constantly. In my opinion, there’s more goodness in the world than there’s bad, but it’s easier to focus on the negative. But now you know why they work so hard to keep that part of society under wraps.”

I got it, I could understand why there was a need for secrecy.

“You mentioned magic,” I said tentatively.

“Magic, the arcane arts, the mystic arts, vodou, spell-slinging, mana, essence, aether. A beloved child has many names. It’s very real. Doesn’t really work how it’s depicted in most fiction, but some things you’ve seen are probably close to the truth. We’ll get to that later; it’s a complicated process and it’ll be a part of your training.”

“But couldn’t many of the issues you mentioned be fixed with magic?”

“Ah, that’s what you meant. No, it doesn’t work like that. You don’t wave a wand and then produce food and water. Magic is predominantly constrained to inner body workings, rituals, rune crafting and manipulating the elements in your immediate surroundings in various ways. Large-scale magic is unstable and dangerous. And who says we aren’t using magic for the betterment of humankind?”

“I see,” I deflated a little.

Colson boomed a laughed and several people looked in our direction.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were disappointed. Don’t be. Ethan, even if you can’t fix the entire world, magic is still really fucking cool,” he smiled at me. “Now let’s get back to Mother Imara, I can see you’re starting to flag. Healing up took a lot of you.”

“But I still have so many questions! What about why I had to fight to the death? I still haven’t forgiven you two for that, you know.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” he smiled gently as he spoke. “We’ll tell you later today, when you’ve freshened up, and then introduce you to it gradually, as I teach you. If you want me to teach you, of course. Mother Imara will be able to explain the soul stuff a lot better than me, but we’ll wait until after you’ve slept.”

Being honest with myself, I did want to be taught. And now that he mentioned it, I did feel my eyes getting heavy.

We paid and walked back to the car, driving to Imara’s at a leisurely pace. The bag Colson was carrying drew my eye more than once, but there was no leakage, and it didn’t start talking so I tried not to dwell on it.

Imara wasn’t there when we got in, and Colson told me to shower and go to bed. Not deigning to respond I slithered out of my clothes and followed his suggestion. Despite being exhausted, sleep was a long time coming. Every time I closed my eyes, the day ran on repeat in my mind.

When I finally did manage to fall asleep my dreams were haunted by shadowy creatures, screams, and me standing at a chopping block with a bloody headsman’s axe.