Tom navigated the Robinson’s living room, using the faint moonlight filtering in through the windows to guide him around the overturned furniture.

He turned the corner and saw Bo kneeling next to his wife Hana. Bo's shaved head and long red beard contrasted with his pale skin as he bent over her. Bo was built solid from years of carpentry work, though he was beginning to develop a slight beer belly.

Bo dropped the towel he was carrying, revealing his sleeve of intricate tattoos—koi carp swimming within a vibrant Japanese garden—that Hana had designed for him. In a panic, he quickly wrapped the white towel around Hana's right arm, where it had been severed and was bleeding profusely. Hana slumped against the wall as blood formed a pool around her. She was deathly pale and had vomit on her shirt. Thick waves of glossy black hair flowed down her slender frame, the ends trailing in her own blood.

“God,” Kate whispered, sucking in her breath at the sight of Hana's horrific injury.

“It's just us!” Tom announced, raising a reassuring hand as Bo dropped the towel and reached for a broken table leg.

Relief washed over Bo's face; he lowered the makeshift weapon and motioned for them to come closer.

Kate pushed past Tom and Bo to kneel by Hana's side. She picked up the already blood-soaked towel, rewrapped Hana’s elbow, and applied pressure to the wound.

“Are you guys okay? What the fuck is going on?” Bo asked Tom in a raised whisper, pulling him to the other side of the kitchen.

“We're okay, but I don't know what's happening. We were just hanging out at home when the earthquake started. Then these fucking things broke into the house and attacked us. No heads, lots of mouths.”

Bo nodded. “One of those bastards got in here too. It grabbed Hana’s arm with its tongue and pulled it into its mouth. It fucking bit it off. I have to get Hana to a hospital right now! She's lost a lot of blood.” Bo’s words stumbled over each other.

“Jesus Christ,” Tom muttered, running a hand through his short hair. “All the cars are gone. I don't know how we'll get there. We saw something huge out on the street and heard people screaming. Did the monster that was here leave?” He glanced around.

“No. I killed it. It had broken the table, so I grabbed a table leg and was able to stab it a bunch of times. I think maybe it was sick or something. It died and then, no shit, it fucking disappeared.”

Bo paused, then blinked. “Wait . . . the cars are gone?”

A scream pierced the air outside.

It was close.

Tom's heart pounded, his body tense. “Let's go downstairs to the basement for now. Block out the windows and light a few candles.”

“I gotta get Hana to a hospital!”

“Bo, I’m telling you man. There are no cars, and you do not want to take Hana out there on foot.”

“My gun—”

“They’re gone too.”

Bo paused and closed his eyes.

A moment later, he opened them again. His voice was firm when he spoke. “Fine. Kids, let's get downstairs.”

Tom hadn't even noticed the two Robinson kids crouched and hiding in the dark hallway.

“I'll run down and just have a look first, then I'll come back up to help with Hana,” Tom said.

He lifted the bat and walked toward the staircase. He opened the basement door, listened for a minute, and then headed down slowly. Each step creaked loudly through the space.

Something moves . . . swing first, ask questions later.

With only a small amount of moonlight filtering through two tiny windows, Tom decided to light a candle. He quickly surveyed the organized shelves and storage bins that lined the walls, and tried to recall where Bo and Hana stored things.

Hope I’m right about them being blind.

The flickering flames cast strange shadows across the concrete floor and the stacks of cardboard boxes.

The basement was as safe as it was going to get.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Tom climbed back up to the basement door. “All right, send them down.”

Bo's fifteen-year-old daughter, Tess, stood at the top of the stairs, a with tear running down her freckled cheek. She descended the stairs; her long dark hair draped over her shoulders as she looked anxiously back toward her mother.

After Tess came Bo’s thirteen-year-old son, Finn. Finn had wispy black hair, and had inherited more of Hana’s Japanese facial features than his sister. He had been born with cerebral palsy and used specialized braces on his slender legs. After multiple surgeries, braces, injections, and physical therapy, Finn was able to walk around pretty well on his own. However, he stepped carefully down the stairs as he was prone to tripping.

One by one, all the children made their way downstairs. Tom joined them in the basement.

“Stay quiet,” Tom instructed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I'll be right back. Stay away from the door, windows, and candles. Don’t use any other lights.”

He received a series of frightened nods from the kids before turning to head back up the steps, the bat still clenched tightly in his hand.

Tom approached Bo, who was hovering protectively over Hana. They exchanged a brief nod before working together to lift her, with Kate holding the towel against Hana’s arm.

The group descended the stairs slowly and carefully.

Once they reached the basement, they gently laid Hana on the couch.

Bo leaned in for a closer look at her arm, confusion etched on his face. “What the hell?”

Hana’s arm was no longer bleeding. Kate moved a tealight closer so they could all see the wound more clearly. The stump was already beginning to scab over.

“Something like that happened to me too,” Tom whispered, flexing his thumb. “When those things attacked us, they bit chunks of meat out of my back, and nearly took my thumb off. But it didn't take long for everything to heal up again.” He shook his head and shrugged. “An hour ago, my thumb was mostly just bone. I don't know why or how, but it's almost fully healed now. My thumb and my back still hurt like hell, though.”

Hana's eyes fluttered open. Her eyes darted around the room, fear plastered across her face.

Bo knelt by her side “Hana! Are you all right? You scared me so much.”

She blinked and nodded.

Her eyes fell on the stump where her arm had once been. Her scream tore through the air, raw and primal.

Bo wrapped her in a tight embrace, whispering urgently, “shhh, shhh, babe, shhh, they will hear. The monsters, Hana, they will hear!”

The mention of their attackers seemed to reach her. “The kids?!” she choked out.

“They're fine,” Bo whispered. “Tom, Kate, and their kids are here too. We're all fine.”

Hana's gaze swept across the concerned faces surrounding her, then she buried her face into Bo’s shirt, and Bo held her.

A few minutes later, Hana gently pulled away. She sat, upright and strong, though her eyes remained distant.

“Okay,” Bo said, rising to his feet. “I'm going to see if I can secure the door better. We can hide down here till morning. Hana, I'll be right back.”

Tom followed Bo, and together they moved Bo's pool table in front of the exterior basement door. They paused after each heart-rending screech of the table dragging across the concrete floor.

With the basement secured as best they could, Bo and Tom returned to Kate and Hana, who were sharing their experiences in hushed voices. Tess and Finn had moved over and were perched beside their mother.

Hana's eyes met Bo's, and she wordlessly raised her healing arm, showing him the now fully scabbed-over stump just below her right elbow. Bo crouched, holding a flickering candle closer to Hana's bloody stump. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, but there was already new pink skin forming at the outer edges of the scab.

“Kids,” Bo murmured, gesturing for them to move away, “give us a minute.”

Tess and Finn exchanged worried glances but complied, shuffling to the far side of the basement.

“Okay,” said Bo. “Tell me exactly what happened to you guys.”

Tom recounted their ordeal: from the missing technology and amenities, to their encounter with the Headless creatures. He recounted blow-by-blow how he had been injured, and how they had fought the monsters off. He hesitated when he reached Chloe’s part in the battle.

“I-I'm pretty sure Chloe did something to one of the monsters.”

“What does that mean?” Hana said.

“I'm not sure,” Tom said. “When the big one was coming at me, it suddenly just started running in circles and screaming its guts out, waving its hands in the air. I felt some kind of pulse. I looked over, and there was Chloe. She was frozen still and laser-focused on the thing. I haven't talked to her about it yet, and I don't know if I even believe it. It sounds insane saying it out loud.”

“Not insane, I think maybe… I think I was the one to make the monster at our house sick,” Hana said.

Before anyone could respond, a loud dragging noise cut through their whispered conversation.

Tom froze, listening intently, as the sound passed by the back of the house. He motioned for the kids to stay quiet and still.

Kate licked her fingers and put out the tealights. The basement was pitch-black and silent.

Tom crept carefully through the basement. He peeked behind one of the window-blankets.

A massive figure plodded down the road that ran behind the Robinsons’ home. It dragged a large wooden club behind it, which left a deep slimy-looking gouge mark through the snow. Its solid seven-foot frame was covered in brownish-green fish scales, interspersed with large clumps of oily black hair.

The Troll stopped in the middle of the road, sniffing the air with its long, pointed nose.

Tom swallowed hard as he peered out from behind the makeshift blind. “Bo,” he whispered urgently.

Bo joined him at the window. His pale face lost its remaining color.

The sight was straight from a grotesque nightmare. [Level 2 Lake Troll Lurker: Dungeon Born] floated above its head like some twisted video game. This was a completely different creature than the Headless.

The Troll stopped, sniffing and listening intently. Its head swiveled back and forth, before stopping and staring at the back of the Robinsons’ house.

Tom and Bo froze.

Did it hear us?

Can it smell us?

The Troll was as still as they were, a breeze blowing through its clumps of matted hair. It stared straight at their window. Tom didn’t dare take a breath.

It tilted its head toward the Moon and let out a phlegmy cackle.

It turned away from them and loped down the street, away from the Robinson house, dragging its club behind it.

“It must’ve heard something,” Tom whispered to Bo.

“At least it's headed away from us.”

Both men watched the window for a few more moments, before dropping the cover back into place.

“Go ahead and light the candles again, Kate,” Tom whispered.

“Okay, kids,” Bo said. He motioned everyone to group together. “I think we should stay down here tonight. I want everyone to try to sleep . . . even though I know that won't happen.” He sighed. “At the very least, you have to rest, and be quiet.”

Tom had been friends with Bo and Hana his whole life. Even when they were kids, Tom had admired Bo's confidence and decisiveness, especially in tough situations.

Bo looked over at Finn, a flicker of concern passing across his face. “The cars are gone, so tomorrow we're going to walk and find some help. I want to find someone to look at Hana’s arm. Maybe we’ll head for the police station. It’s at least five miles away, which is going to be a long walk in the cold.”

Finn met his father's gaze with a determined expression. He nodded.

“What did you see outside?” Chloe asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“More of the little ones,” Tom replied quickly, “but they ran the other way down the street.”

“Grab a blanket from the closet over there, and find a place to lay down and keep warm,” Bo whispered.

The kids shuffled toward the small storage closet, their movements slow, silent, and cautious in the dim light. As they settled into their makeshift beds, the parents split off to offer comfort and reassurance. Tom wrapped Loo in a tight hug, her slight frame trembling against him.

“Are Grandma and Grandpa okay?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“I don't know, Loo,” Tom said, struggling to maintain his composure. “But I bet they are. They’re tough.”

“What do you think is happening?” Chloe said. “Why are there monsters outside? Where did they come from?”

“Right now, we don't have any answers, Chloe,” Kate said softly. She came over and rested her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “But most importantly, right now we are safe and together, and that's good enough for now, right?”

“I guess.” Chloe wrung her hands.

Despite being scared as hell, Tom couldn't help but smile when Loo said—a little too loudly—“this New Year's sucks.”

The other kids shushed her.

A few moments later, another outside scream tore through the night, closer than many of the previous ones. The families froze, each one of them straining to listen, long after the scream faded.

Several minutes of silence passed before Chloe suddenly yelled, “Holy crap!”

Tom about pissed his pants as he and everyone else jumped.