We watched it kill him in the light of the dim candle the letter told us to stay beside so that we might make it til morning. We heard him begging for help that we wouldn't run to fetch this time, we heard his throat tear open and heard his cries fade to wet coughs to silence.
Then it turned its gaze upon us, his blood running down its familiar face as we realised who had saved us - both in writing the letter and killing him. We held its gaze, quietly trying to convey our gratitude without drawo any further attention to our vulnerable selves.
With a hissed out snarl it leapt through the doorway.
In the morning it returned wearing its human face.
And we fell back into mother's arms.
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