The river always ran coldest in the mornings.
I didn't mind. Cold hands meant Mom was still alive.
The water here was the purest in town—perfect for anyone sick.
It was, unfortunately, the only help I could offer her.
"Back to the river already?"
I looked up from the current, lifting the bucket from the stream. Joe stood nearby, arms folded.
"Yeah," I said, "but she probably won't need any more today."
"You gonna lift both of those buckets yourself?"
"It's not a big deal," I muttered, even as I struggled to hoist just one onto my back.
Joe chuckled and stepped forward. "Well, lad, if you're gonna carry everything alone, you need the right technique."
He straightened my stance with a grunt, helping me balance the weight.
"Thanks, Joe," I said with a grateful smile.
Joe had been our neighbor since before I could remember. He was round, bearded, and always wore a hat to hide the bald spot he pretended didn't exist. I'd heard he once had a son, a soldier, who never came back from battle.
"Oh—and Jamie?"
Mia appeared beside him, holding out a small paper-wrapped bundle. "Give your mom this tea. Special herbs. You can heat it up whenever, dear."
"Mia, you really don't have to—"
"Now listen carefully. You need to raise her head before she drinks it. It's—"
"Let the kid go, Mia," Joe interrupted. "His back's already breaking."
She pouted, then turned and hugged me tightly.
"Be safe, my dear," she said, her warmth lingering even after she let go.
"Of course," I replied, trying to smile bigger than I felt.
Their kindness was like a warm meal after a long day—always comforting, always just enough.
The house felt different as I opened the door.
Like the warmth from the river and the neighbors hadn't made it inside.
It felt… disconnected.
A place waiting to be forgotten.
Empty.
I walked softly to my mother's room. She was still resting.
I set the buckets down and sat beside her.
"You've gotten even skinnier," I said, swapping the damp cloth on her forehead for a fresh one.
Just for a second, she opened her eyes.
"That cough… didn't take long," she said with a weak smile.
"I moved fast. We were out of water."
"You mustn't overdo it, honey," she whispered, coughing. "That little body of yours can only take so much."
"What little body? I'm a whole man now. I could probably carry you!"
"Maybe in a few years," she chuckled.
I smiled and laughed along with her.
"Well, if you're laughing, maybe we can go for a walk again—like we used to."
"Maybe next time, sweetie."
She coughed again, harder this time. The moment passed.
"How's Alex?" she asked.
"Who cares?" I snapped.
She frowned. "You mustn't be like that with your own brother."
"Yeah, yeah. 'You only have each other,' I know."
"What kind of brother moves out when he knows his mom is sick? He makes me so—"
"Honey." She squeezed my hand, stopping me. "Your brother had his own reasons for joining the TEU military."
I pulled away with a grunt. "Whatever."
She let out a long sigh, gazing out the window.
"Has it really been two years?"
I stared with her, watching the sky melt into orange and pink.
"Yeah," I said. "My birthday's right around the corner."
"About that… there's something I—"
She broke into violent coughs.
"Cough—Cough—Could—"
I rushed to her side, lifting her gently and helping her drink from the cup.
Her eyes fluttered shut again as she drifted back into unconsciousness.
Unable to continue sitting in the house,i went out in search of my brother
The village was easy to navigate, and it wasn't like my brother's location was a secret.
He was right where he'd been for the past two years:
The TEU camp stationed dead center in our village.
It was fortified well—thick walls surrounding three large buildings.
I figured the one on the left was the dormitory. That's always where I'd been told to look for Alex.
I approached from the left and paused, surprised by the state of the place.
Outside, the land was dry and lifeless.
The dormitory entrance looked half-collapsed, worn down like no one cared.
The rusted door groaned when I touched it.
"Do they really live like this?" I muttered to myself, glancing around for any signs of life.
"Hey, kid—you can't be here!" a voice shouted from behind the entrance.
I froze.
"I'm looking for my brother. Alex," I called out, hesitant to push open the door.
Then it creaked open. "Oh. Jamie—it's you," Alex said, appearing in the frame.
"Just give me a second."
We left the dorms together and stepped back into the village.
"Heard you left the village," I said, keeping my eyes forward.
"Yeah. That was a while ago, though."
He must've noticed my discomfort.
Silence settled in—so heavy that even the wind felt loud.
Alex finally spoke. "There's a whole world out there, little brother. A world beyond this primitive village. With technology. Cities. Sights you couldn't imagine—"
"And Dad?" I cut in, coldly staring into his eyes.
He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Is that what you think this is about?"
"All I know is, while you've been out sight-seeing, you forgot about Mom."
WHAM.
The back of his hand cracked against my face. I staggered, vision tilting as my head turned to the ground.
"Who the hell are you to say I don't—"
I lunged, grabbing the sleeve of his beaten shirt, and threw a punch with everything I had.
But he caught it. Effortlessly.
In one motion, he pivoted, swept my legs out from under me, and dropped me to the ground.
Pinned beneath him, I felt the weight of my older brother—
His black hair the opposite of my white,
His calm eyes somehow heavier than his body.
"It's not sight-seeing, Jamie," he said quietly, pulling me to my feet with one arm.
"You haven't seen one yourself… a Taka."
As soon as I stood, I shoved him away.
He didn't fight back. Just brushed himself off and turned to walk away.
"Tell Mom I'll stop by soon," he called, disappearing into the distance.
I stood there, unmoving. Conflicted.
Was I mad that I couldn't land a hit?
Or because he knocked me down so easily?
Maybe it was the way he looked at me. Like I didn't understand anything.
Or maybe it was the fact that he seemed to care more about those so-called monsters than he did about me—or Mom.
One thing was certain.
"This feeling…" I muttered, clenching my fist, "this is anger."
It started getting dark as I began walking home.
My brother's words lingered in my head, reminding me of the world I lived in.
In my country, people didn't live in bustling cities or wide-spanning nations. We lived scattered, in separate settlements—small pockets of life, isolated from each other like we were the only ones who existed.
Each settlement had its own culture, its own way of living. Different tech, different customs, even different ideas of what was "normal."
It sounded made-up at first, like something from a storybook.
But Siparah—that was real.
The entertainment capital of the country, and it sat right next to our village like a glowing giant.
I'd heard stories since I was a kid: dazzling lights that cut through the night sky, parades that never ended, streets filled with smiling faces and laughter.
Siparah sounded like another world entirely.
But when I asked the locals why they didn't live there, the answer was always the same:
"Siparah's too dangerous for me."
Because while Siparah was known for its lights and life... it was also the epicenter of death.
Taka-related deaths.
I was raised on stories of the Taka—monsters that wore human skin. Creatures that fed on chaos.
They looked like people, but underneath, they were beasts: wolves, lizards, birds, creatures with fangs, claws, horns, and feathers. Each one capable of wiping out even the strongest human.
That's why the TEU was formed—the Taka Elimination Unit.
It's why my brother joined. To protect us. To hunt them down before they hunted us.
But to me, they were still just stories. Legends.
Wolves the size of trees? People with wings? Lizard-men hiding in plain sight?
I couldn't believe in that stuff.
Not without seeing it for myself.
By the time I reached the edge of the village, my thoughts were tangled, but my feet knew the way home.
"Hurry on home, Jamie. Wouldn't want you to get eaten,"
my neighbor teased with a chuckle, waving.
I snapped out of my daze just long enough to wave back—half a smile on my face.
Mom was still asleep when I returned.
I slipped into my room, let the door click behind me, and finally laid down.
One last sigh.
One last quiet breath.
And then, sleep.
The days slipped by in a blur. I lived one sunrise at a time—changing the water, tending to Mom, sitting beside her in silence or small talk. Each day, her eyes seemed a little brighter, a little more alive. Like the light was slowly returning to her after being buried for too long.
She was getting better. I could feel it, and she could too.
Right before my birthday, she stood up—actually stood up—for the first time in over a year. Her legs wobbled like twigs, but she smiled through it. I didn't know whether to cheer or cry.
Was she really free from it? After all this time?
That night, she sat with me on her bed like she used to when I was little. She leaned back on her hands, eyes soft with something I hadn't seen in ages: peace.
"Sleep tight, my love," she whispered.
"Mom, I'm kinda too old for tuck-ins," I mumbled, looking away to hide my grin.
She laughed gently and leaned her face against mine. "Not until tomorrow, my baby boy."
There was something about the way she said it. Soft. Dreamy. Like she didn't want the night to end.
"So… we'll do it, then?"
"Yes, sweetie." She stroked my forehead, fingers warm and light as feathers. "Tomorrow we'll walk the whole village, just like when you were little."
My chest swelled. She was really going to do it. We'd finally go outside together—no more bedside wishes, no more hushed prayers. Just me and her.
Tomorrow, I'd see her the way she used to be.
Tomorrow, we'd go find Alex and knock some sense into him—together.
Tomorrow, things would finally feel normal again.
Tomorrow would be the best birthday I've ever had.
And as I drifted off to sleep, a small, strange thought nestled in the back of my head:
I hope nothing ruins it.
I woke up the next morning with my chest burning from excitement. I leapt out of bed.
CRACK.
My skull slammed into the ceiling, splitting the wood and leaving a jagged hole above my bed. I stumbled back, gripping my head in shock. But… something was off.
My pants no longer hugged my ankles—they barely reached my shins. My arms were longer, thicker. Muscles I didn't recognize flexed under my skin. My hair, once trimmed above my ears, now brushed the back of my neck.
I stared at my reflection, chest rising and falling.
"Finally," I whispered. "I'm changing."
I ran my hand over my chest, down to my waistband—then paused.
"…Maybe not in every way."
I gave a short laugh, but it died the moment a smell hit me.
Rot. Blood. Feces.
It wasn't just a smell—it was a warning. My brain screamed. My instincts flared like fire behind my eyes.
I threw my door open and followed the scent.
Each step down the hallway felt longer than the last. My heart thumped louder than my feet. I stopped in front of her door. My fingers trembled on the knob.
Please be fine. Please—
I opened it.
My mother lay twisted in soaked sheets. Her skin had darkened—grayish and dull—and she glistened with sweat. Her mouth hung open, gasping for breath in uneven spurts. Her fingers twitched. Her legs kicked at nothing.
"M-Mom?" I whispered.
No answer.
"MOM!" I shouted, rushing to her side. "Mom, wake up!"
I grabbed her shoulders. Her head lolled, eyes barely cracked open. For a moment, a glimmer of blue—a light I'd never seen—flashed in her pupils before fading.
Her pulse was there. Weak. Fading. Like a thread snapping.
"No no no—come on!" I scooped her into my arms and ran.
I barely made it past our gate when a voice called out. "Hey—what's going on?"
The same neighbor who smiled at me last night.
"My mom—she's—she's not waking up, please, I need—"
But the second his eyes met hers, he paled. His knees buckled and he fell backward, scrambling to his feet as if I were holding a demon.
"No," he breathed. "Not again…"
Then he ran.
"AUNT MIA! GRANDPA JOE!" I screamed.
The door to the house next door creaked open. They both stepped out.
Joe saw her face—and froze. His shoulders tightened. His hand slipped behind the doorframe and came back holding an old blade.
"Joe…?" I said, stepping toward him.
He raised the weapon.
"You—you take that thing and leave this house," he barked.
"What?"
"You heard me, boy. Take that monster and go!"
My legs went numb. My chest caved inward.
"But it's Mom… she was just—she was just okay yesterday—!"
"GO!"
His voice shattered something inside me.
I turned and ran, clutching her tighter, burying my face in her hair, praying her warmth wouldn't fade.
Then I stumbled.
My knees hit gravel.
The doctor's house.
I was on his steps.
I pounded the door.
"HELP US—PLEASE—SHE'S DYING!"
The door swung open. The old doctor stood there. His eyes landed on her face—and he recoiled.
"Please," I begged, gripping his coat. "You have to help!"
He slapped my hands away and spat, "My services are for humans."
The words didn't register. I was too tired, too scared.
Until he reached for the sound beacon.
"No—don't—"
He fired it.
A piercing shriek shattered the air. My ears rang violently, a pain burrowing into my skull like drills. I collapsed to the ground, unable to hear my own scream.
The doctor watched me writhe.
"The frequency isn't harmful to humans…" he said. "Which means—"
Before he could finish, they arrived.
Footsteps. Uniforms. Blades.
From the left, a group of men marched toward us. Black coats. Each one had a standard sword at their hip—except the one at the front. His blade sat across his back, massive, chipped from battle. He walked like someone who had nothing to fear.
And then I saw him.
Among them, behind the leader—my brother.
"Alex," I croaked.
His eyes found mine. They widened. For a heartbeat, I saw something break in his face.
The leader chuckled. "What a pitiful sight. Wouldn't you agree, Alexander?"
He turned toward my mom.
"To think these devils lived among us all this time…"
He raised a hand.
BANG!
A sharp, searing pain ripped through my chest. I fell back, gasping. My arms went limp. My mother's body hit the dirt.
Blood.
I pressed my hand to the wound. Warm liquid coated my fingers. My vision swam.
"Alex…" I gasped, choking. "Please…"
I reached out. "Please… help."
The commander turned to my brother. "Shoot me if I'm wrong, but… you wouldn't happen to know these two, would you?"
Alex looked at me.
Then away.
"No, sir."
His voice was hollow. Steady. Empty.
My mouth hung open.
"What…?"
"This some kind of joke?" I laughed. "Alex?"
He didn't look back.
The commander drew his sword. "Let's wrap this up."
The blade scraped the stone beneath his feet. He stepped forward.
Then—
A growl.
Low. Primal.
I turned.
My mother stood.
Her limbs stretched unnaturally. Her eyes glowed that same piercing blue. Her fingers curled into claws. Fur rippled across her arms. Her breathing steadied.
Bones snapped as her back arched and she rose taller than I'd ever seen her.
My mother was changing.
She was no longer hiding.
She was no longer human.
She was Taka.
She was a wolf.
Before moving forward, she turned to me.
I was awestruck as my eyes met hers.
"You must run, sweetie," she said softly, bending over me and gently touching the wound on my chest.
"I can't leave you, Mom, I just—"
"Jamie, RUN!" she roared.
Her voice struck something primal inside me. I scrambled to my feet and ran—without thinking, without breathing, unable to process what was happening.
It was like she didn't speak to me.
She spoke to something deeper.
Something in my bones.
I turned one last time.
She was waving at me.
Behind her, the soldiers rushed in.
I closed my eyes. Faced forward. And ran.
Past our neighbors.
Past my memories.
Past my home.
Away from the village.