Creatures of the Night

by Grace Collins

  “What are hollowers?” I ask.

  “Hollowers are . . .” He searches for the words. “They hollow humans to survive.”

  “Hollow humans? ”

  “Eat them,” Cassia clarifies, waving a hand. “Feed off their humanity, relish in their memories, steal their energy—yada, yada.”

  I look at the golden-eyed man to provide me with confirmation but his expression gives nothing away. “That sounds crazy.”

  “You don’t believe us?”

  “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Believe this: Your friends, these people you believe are like family, the ones who raised you and tried to murder you? They lied to you, betrayed you, and they probably would’ve hollowed you if I hadn’t sent Cassia to watch over you.” His words are lethal—they cut right through me. “Your entire life has been a lie, Milena. You’ve been lied to, misled, betrayed—”

  “Elias, stop,” Cassia demands. “Can’t you see she’s had enough?”

  He pauses, jaw clenching. The fire in his eyes disappears so fast I almost wonder if it was ever there at all. “Excuse me,” he says softly, turning around and exiting the room without another word. The air sizzles with his departure.

  “Tell the girl about hollowers,” Eric says. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.” And then, as quickly as Elias, he exits the room.

  “Sorry about that,” Cassia says with a grimace. “Elias isn’t usually so rude.”

  I feel shaken—like somebody has wrapped their hand around my heart and is trying to wrench it from my chest. Not to mention my fingertips have gone completely numb. “You said I’m not imprisoned here.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Will you let me go?”

  She frowns. “No.”

  “Then I’m imprisoned.”

  “We’re keeping you safe, Milena. Where do you want to go?

  Back to your village?”

  She’s right, I don’t have anywhere to go. But just because they say I’m safe doesn’t mean I believe them. It isn’t possible to throw everything I thought I knew about their species out the window in five minutes.

  “Tell me more about the hollowers,” I say. “Why do they have to eat humans?”

  “They don’t have to eat humans, they do it to live longer. They could live off human food perfectly fine, but eating other species gives them abilities.”

  “Abilities?”

  “The average lifespan of a hollower is around twenty. When a hollower reaches sixteen years of age, they begin to age very quickly and then die. Eating different species gives them more time.”

  “Like immortality?”

  “Not quite,” she says. “They hate other creatures because they’re jealous of us. Eating a human makes them age like one, but eating a shifter ages them like shifters and gives them the strength of one. And wispers, well, they’re not around anymore to try it out.”

  Her words make my head spin. “Shifters?”

  “I believe you call us creatures of the night. Or, you know, beasts. Though I’d have to argue with that.”

  “And wispers?”

  “Let’s just stick with shifters and hollowers for now.”

  I look out the window. The sky is still dark, and with no sign of the moon, it’s impossible to tell how far away sunrise is. “I think I want to be alone.”

  “I’m not so sure—”

  “You say I’m not a prisoner here, so leave me alone. I need to be by myself. I haven’t slept in over a day, I’m exhausted.”

  “Okay. I’ll be by to get you in the morning.” She walks to the door, shooting me one last glance. “There’s a bathroom to your left. Get some rest, okay?” She closes the door behind her. I watch it, waiting for somebody else to barge in, but it remains shut.

  I don’t recognize myself in the mirror on the wall. My brown eyes have dark circles beneath them and my skin is dull and dry. Black, thick hair knots at the nape of my neck, littered with twigs and leaves. I look dull and lifeless, so unlike me.

  I have to get out.

  The door handle doesn’t budge when I yank on it—it’s locked from the outside. So I tear a piece off the nearby curtain and throw my fist into the mirror until it shatters onto the floor.

  Using the sharp shards of glass, I slice the curtains and sheets into thick strips and tie them together in a mismatched patchwork. I dangle my makeshift rope from the windowsill to a spot inches above the ground. Clambering down the material, I use the holes in the cobblestone wall to rest my weight. After a few moments, I’m on the ground.

  The trees welcome me as I walk through them, heart running and mind speeding. I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going; all I know is that I was almost killed by my family and now I’m being held captive by the very creatures I’ve been hiding from my entire life. I need time to sort through this information, but each step I take through the trees, I feel less confident about the decision.

  The air moves around, branches groaning in the wind. I stop moving and stare ahead as nature screams, aware of a more powerful being lurking in its presence. I’m not alone.

  “Where are you going?”

  I don’t turn around. I can feel Elias’s terrifying presence, like a pulse of lightning. “How’d you find me?”

  “I’ll always find you.” There’s a mocking tone to his voice, but beneath it, a threat. “Why did you run?”

  “I wanted to be alone. I couldn’t think locked in that room.”

  He’s in front of me in mere seconds, leaning lazily against the tree. “Where are you running to?”

  “Nowhere,” I say. “Why me? Why did this happen to me?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out. It doesn’t surprise me that they tried to kill you, it surprises me that they waited so long,” he says. “Why raise you for nineteen years, keeping you in the shadows and hiding who they are when they kill every other human on sight?”

  I stare at the ground. His gaze makes me feel like every move is being noted and dissected. “This is crazy. It’s all crazy. You’re all crazy.”

  “Denial isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  I scoff, wiping under my eye. “You don’t get it. I don’t know where I belong anymore.”

  He pushes off the tree and steps toward me, his expression softer. “You don’t believe us.”

  “I don’t know what to believe. Don’t you understand? My entire life has been ripped apart. I can’t go home, the only people I’d remotely consider family tried to kill me, and here you are telling me they had planned to all along—that all this time I’ve been hiding with the murderers when I thought I was hiding from them. What would you believe?”

  “I’d want to stay where I’ve been shown I’m safe.”

  “I was safe for the last nineteen years of my life,” I say. “I thought I could trust them. Wouldn’t it make me foolish to trust you?”

  “Using that logic, I suppose so.”

  Elias is rational and controlled, and I stand in front of him one strand away from falling to pieces. It isn’t like there’s anywhere I could go, but learning that every aspect of my life has been manipulated and controlled to fit someone else’s plans makes me want the freedom of choosing for myself.

  “Then let me go.”

  “We can’t let you go,” he says. “We won’t.”

  “Why? ”

  “They’ll kill you when they find you.”

  “Why do any of you care? Why do you care? Why me?”

  “I don’t.”

  They shouldn’t, but his words sting. “Then let me go.”

  “They will find you, Milena.”

  And in my hysteria, in the state where all I want are answers, I can only think one thing: Let them have me. But I stare at him then, and while the world seems to spin, he remains clear and still, eyes brighter than the sky above. He looks ethereal, like an angelic figure that visits you in your dreams. I’ve never allowed myself to fall victim to the harsh trap of bea
uty—not that any of the men in my village ever paid me any interest—but there’s something about Elias that makes my breath hitch.

  “We should get back,” he says. “You must be tired.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

  “Milena, look at me.” I don’t. “Milena. ” He stands in front of me and lifts my chin. His touch is gentle, fingertips warm against my skin as he forces me to look at him. It occurs to me that he could snap my neck in seconds, and I would be completely defenseless. I don’t care.

  “You’re tired.” His voice is a low hum that vibrates in my chest.

  “You should sleep.”

  And as I stare at him, eyes burning like they did in the bedroom, weakness washes over me. And then, as if my body obeys his every command, my eyelids grow heavy, my limbs go numb, and everything is black.

  Chapter Six

  The setting sun wakes me up the next day, bathing the bed in a pink hue. I stretch my achy limbs above my head, looking around the room. The last thing I remember is running into Elias in the forest; it had been the middle of the night then, and now, the sun is already setting. I must’ve slept all day.

  The new, gray sheets are silky against my skin, a stark contrast to the scratchy blankets I’m used to, and I feel slightly disgusting as I crawl out of bed and stare down at myself. I pull the twigs out of my hair and try to brush the blackened dirt off my clothes. I cringe, moving to the bathroom connected to the room and fill the tub with water.

  My head pounds as I sink into the water, rubbing my legs and shuddering at the way the water turns brown. Last night doesn’t feel real. And if it wasn’t for the extravagant room I woke up in,

  I could almost have believed everything was a long nightmare.

  But the memory of Charles standing over me with that machete is etched so clearly in my memory it’s hard to shake.

  There’s a knock on the door. “Hello?” I call.

  “Milena?” It’s Cassia, her high voice carrying through the door. “How are you feeling?”

  Memories of my encounter with Elias come to mind, of everything I’ve learned since I’ve been here. “Fine.”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk. I could show you around the village.”

  “It’s dark outside.”

  “We don’t have to worry about that here,” she says. “I can explain all that if you come with me.”

  I don’t really want to spend all my time locked in this room, and even though the prospect of being outside after dark still scares me, I have to take advantage of whatever opportunity I have to find out more information.

  “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Great! I brought you some clothes. I don’t know if they’ll fit so I added a belt, just in case.” The door creaks open, and a neatly folded pile of clothes slides across the floor. “I’ll wait out here.”

  I take a deep breath and peel my clothes off, then slide into the warm water with a sigh. Bathing back home was nowhere near as pleasant as this—the bathroom was all open plan. With a washcloth and a bucket of cold water, nobody looked forward to it. And yet, as I lie in the water and rub soap through my tangled hair, part of me wishes that I’d open my eyes and find myself with a bucket of cold water and a washcloth.

  I take my time washing myself, and then dressing, pulling the brown sweater and black pants on. Cassia’s slim, taller than me, and has a lot more muscle, but we’re not all that different in size.

  Part of me hopes that by the time I emerge from the bathroom, Cassia will have given up. I don’t know if I want to see anyone right now, do anything. But she’s sitting on the bed, legs folded beneath her, and a bright smile on her face. When she sees me, she pushes herself to her feet.

  “Ready?” I nod, my wet hair dripping on the floor. “Great.”

  She turns on her heel and starts down the hall, gesturing for me to follow. “If people stare, just ignore them, we’re not so used to strangers.”

  I swallow my nerves. The castle is entirely made of stone, furnished with mismatching bits that don’t quite fit. The narrow halls are empty as we wander through to the bottom floor; it opens into a wide foyer, the floor covered with a lavish, red rug that leads right up to the wooden exit. Cassia pushes the doors open, and I want to run back. The vast night sky looms over us.

  “It’s okay,” Cassia says, urging me forward.

  The village lays at the foot of the castle, and is teeming with life. The streets are carved from the dirt, flattened and hardened with gray stone, and long wires lined with lanterns light the pathways. A man plays with a ball in the middle of the street, groups of people bustle together, laughter fills the air, and somewhere in the distance, music dances through the fog of the night.

  Cassia watches me, but she’s not the only one. People sneak curious glances while smiling at Cassia, who greets each of them by name. Shyly, I shift behind her. “No one will hurt you,” she says. “We can go back inside if you like.”

  “I’m fine.” Past her shoulder, the wooden cabins spread farther than I can see. “How many people live here?”

  “In this colony, there are only around five hundred of us,” she says.

  “Only? ” That’s more people than I’ve seen in my entire life.

  “And it’s a settlement of both humans and . . .” Beasts. Creatures of the night.

  “Shifters,” she fills in for me.

  “But everybody here looks human.”

  Cassia smiles over her shoulder at me. “Most of the shifters are off running.”

  “Running?”

  “We can only shift forms in the dark when the moon is out.

  And it’s the only time our teens can roam the forests without fear of the hollowers attacking them.”

  At the mention of my people, I cringe. “Because we— they hide?”

  “Yes.” She nods as we come to a stop in front of the source of music. “This is where you can come to get a drink. It’s the only bar in the village, but it’s great.”

  The building is all wooden but it’s painted a bright red and decorated with lanterns that glow a variety of bright colors.

  Laughter pulses from inside, mixing with the music to create a beautiful melody. It fills me with a sense of longing.

  “Anyway,” she says, “hollowers hunt during the day and hide at night because they know they can’t take down shifters when we’re not in human form. We hide during the day and roam during the night.”

  “You guys hide?”

  “Sort of.” She twists her lips in thought. “We don’t actively go into hiding, not like you’re used to. The hollowers would never risk coming here during the day, they’d be outnumbered, but our young are prohibited from leaving the village in daytime.

  Only a select few of us are allowed out.”

  “And when you do go out, do you kill my people?”

  “They’re not your people, Milena.”

  I know she’s right—I know I’m not one of them, but even knowing they tried to kill me doesn’t make it easier. It doesn’t erase the past nineteen years—the laughter I shared with Flo, our conversations while gardening. It doesn’t erase chasing Darius through the clearing and trying not to laugh when he got scolded by his mom. That stuff doesn’t go away, not even when your so-called family tries to kill you. It’s just another thing that twists around my throat and chokes me whenever I think about home.

  “That’s not an answer,” I say.

  “I think you know the answer.” I look at the forest, my stomach in a knot. Yes, just as my people hunt them, they hunt my people. “They tried to kill you, Milena. They’ve been killing us for decades.”

  “They raised me.”

  I stare at the sky above. It’s clear, littered with stars, and I momentarily forget where I am. We saw them so rarely growing up—one or two would dot the sky as the sun went down, but it was nothing compared to this. There are thousands of them, stretching across the darkness so far that all my pr
oblems feel insignificant.

  “You said your kind could only shift during the night, so why was Eric an animal during the day when he was at my village?”

  “They used silver on him. It weakens us and it prevented him from shifting back.” She grimaces. “That was complete torture, you know, not allowing his body to naturally shift in the daylight.”

  Guilt hammers at me. Despite the fact that his temper terrifies me, I understand it. “And Elias?”

  “What about him?”

  “The night when I first saw him—” I stop myself, the memory of that night leaving a bitter taste in my mouth—of losing something that was never really mine. “The others listened to him.”

  “Yeah, he runs things around here, has for a while. Like a chief of sorts.”

  “Was he born into power?”

  “No, we don’t do things by birth here. It’s because he’s strong. He’s different from the rest of us, and we trust him to take care of us.”

  “Different how?”

  “He doesn’t shift,” she explains. “He doesn’t need to, he’s strong enough in his human form.”

  “Did he tell you to watch me? Back at my village?”

  “After we got Eric back, he sent me to watch over you. He found it suspicious that the hollowers had a human living among them. Usually, he would’ve just taken you then, but he was intrigued and wanted to see what they would do, so I watched over you for the next little while, to make sure they didn’t harm you.”

  “Why did any of you care if I was harmed?”

  “We protect humans, it’s what we do.”

  “But I’m sure there were more important things you could’ve been doing, and yet you were stuck watching me.”

  She studies me. “Elias is complicated, but he’s a good man.

  I trust him and don’t question his actions, and you shouldn’t either. He asked me to watch you, so I did.”

  Elias is an anomaly, and Cassia is offering no explanation.

  “Can we go back now?”