rebelled. Humans were forced to comply to a new regime in which human’s battled monsters by night and suffered almost constant confinement to their rooms by day. Freedom was a thing of the past, fear was the new motivator. The Oso brothers’ whispers carried throughout their room, growing harsher as each tick of the clock brought the minute-hand closer to midnight. Tommy’s little face was obscured by alternating lines of shadow and streetlight that shone through the blinds of their only window. “I’m always the bait.” Tommy hissed. “Because you’re littler and faster than me.” Jack explained, twirling a large knife in his hand. Each rotation looked as though it might slice his thumb clean off, but he spun and caught it with such skill that Tommy found himself momentarily mesmerized. The blade flashed bright with each twist as it moved through a stream of streetlight and out again. The minute hand ticked closer to the twelve. “I’m sick of this.” Tommy whispered, sinking to the floor and gripping his short hair in his fists. Silence. Another minute. Jack glanced at the Teddy that had been assigned to monitor them that night. It sat on their pillow. A little one. Its beady eyes staring, watching, making sure that the job of monster slaying was done to satisfaction and that there were no murmurings of an uprising. Jack slid to the floor out of its view and crouched beside his brother. Tommy’s silhouette rocked gently. “I have an idea.” Jack whispered almost inaudibly. Midnight. The closet door creaked. Jack stood. The door hit the wall and a long block of black shadow crawled slowly across the floor.
≈ The following night.
≈
68