 Well, I'm 28 years old now. I was born in 84, and I've been free as I can be, and I won't ask for any more. Turnpike troubadours. We entered the cover of the forest at a full-on run. Grandpa Isaac's headlamp lit the path through a distance of about 15 feet. Everything outside of that thin beam of light was blanketed in pure, inky blackness. What's the plan? I shouted. Get as far away from that thing as we can before it breaks free, my grandfather said back. As if on cue, we heard the sound of splintering wood coming from the house. A thundering howl echoed through the night air. It got out. Grandpa said, perhaps more to himself as he slowed to a fast walk. We need to be quiet now. We need to hide. And with that, he motioned towards a small clearing, one side overgrown with huge brambles of wild blackberries. He switched off the headlamp and we made our way silently into the heavy underbrush. We paid no notice to the sharp thorns catching on our clothes and bare skin. Listening intently, we heard it crash through the trees and onto the trail behind the house. My grandfather was right next to me, but it was too dark to see his face. I heard him turn toward us and whisper, Don't move now. Quiet your breathing and try to keep perfectly still. We could hear the thing move clumsily through the forest, fallen branches cracking under its weight. It stopped at a fork in the path and I swear I heard it sniff the air. Then silence. I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity, craning my head forward to listen. Seconds tick by and then I felt a small current of air move across the back of my neck. A dawning dread flooded over me. Turning to warn him, I heard a startled surprise as Talon sunk into both of his shoulders and Isaac was lifted straight up off the ground. He fought hard and he must have done some damage because it dropped him from about twenty feet. He landed flush on his back and I could see he was in a great deal of pain. By the time he was able to speak, you and I were by his side. Take the vial, he said weakling, placing it into the palm of my hand. As I closed my fingers around the small glass bottle, the creature hit me full force in the chest and I was thrown back onto the forest floor. It stood staring intently at me and then it screamed. The sound was so loud that it shook the ground around us. Bits of leaves and branches flew past my head and I felt as though I was in the eye of a hurricane. It looked to be over eight feet tall with huge leathery wings and the face of something out of a nightmare. Then it screamed again and turned back to my grandfather. Picking him up by the throat, it pulled him close until its face was only inches away from his. Their eyes locked and with what appeared to be anticipation, a kind of savoring, the creature opened its maw and slowly inhaled the life force of my grandfather. His cheerful blue eyes dimmed, his skin became pale and then turned in ashen gray. I watched helplessly as grandpa Isaac began to disintegrate in front of my eyes, starting with the tips of his fingers, then moving up his arms and legs until there was nothing but a small heap of ashes on the ground. The creature took great pleasure in using its talons to mix the ashes with dirt. Scratching wildly, it scattered the remains in all directions. The sound of Ewan softly crying forced me back into reality. Struggling to stand, I could feel the cool glass vial still clutched in my right hand. Ewan ran to me, locking his arms around my waist. I gently unwrapped them. We don't have much time, but kneeling down, I uncapped the vial and tipped it to my finger. Nothing. Desperately holding the bottle upside down, I felt one single drop of liquid touch my skin. Trying to remember what my grandmother had written over the doors and windows, I traced the symbols and letters onto Ewan's forehead. I hoped it would be enough. The creature paused for a moment and then screamed at the sight. Pushing Ewan behind me, I picked up a sturdy branch and broke the tip off at a sharp angle. Coming straight forward, it closed the distance between us in a millisecond, using the branch to stab for an eye. I missed, but tore a hole in one of its leathery wings. It screeched more in outrage than pain, then it snapped my weapon in two, grabbed me by the throat, and lifted me from the ground. Eye to eye, it widened its maw and began to extract my life. But it didn't work. Eyes then enraged, it raised one razor-sharp talon and tore deep into my chest. My body dropped to the ground. The world began to fade. It's hard to describe the feeling that followed. I must have looked dead to Ewan, but somehow I was still in my body, and I was still aware, but I couldn't speak or move, and worse, I couldn't help him. Ewan screamed my name. It cocked its head, perhaps just now remembering that Ewan had been its primary target. As the thing lumbered towards him, the symbols on Ewan's forehead began to glow brighter and brighter until the creature was forced to stop in its tracks. They seemed to create some type of barrier now that even it couldn't cross. Ewan screamed and flew into a rage, flinging branches and ripping small trees right out of the ground, but it couldn't touch him. Finally, barely opening its wings, it shot straight upward like a missile and disappeared into the night sky. Ewan ran crying and fell on the ground next to my body. I couldn't comfort him, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep, tightly grasping my hand. As dawn broke, he was startled awake by the sound of someone calling his name. It was great grandma Hester, and Ewan ran to her crying. Grandpa Isaac and Stephen are dead, it killed them. Holding the boy tightly, Hester looked over at where I lie on the ground, and then she glanced upward to the sky. It took a while to calm him, but eventually she settled Ewan under the shade of an oak tree and set about tending to my body. Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a thick glass bottle brimming with a colorful swirling liquid. Carefully tipping it to her finger, she gently drew symbols on my forehead. The two of them made their way back to the house in silence. Once they arrived, she sent him upstairs to clean up while Grandma Hester prepared a quick supper. There was too much empty space, a reminder of their loss at the long oak table in the kitchen. They decided to carry their plates to a small round table on the front porch. Why did we have to leave Stephen out there, Ewan asked sadly. Because that's the way it's done, she replied. You must lie where you fall. Will everyone come back again? Like before, Ewan said hopefully. She looked down at him sadly. No, my dearest. Not this time. Grandma forced a smile. There is more I will tell you. For this next part, you must be very brave. Still, let's leave the world laughing when our eulogies are red. May we all get to heaven. For the devil knows we're dead. Ewan watched his grandmother intently. She paused for a moment and then continued. This is the story of your great-grandpa Isaac. He grew up here in this very house with his mother and father, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Just like us, they did not worry about death. Isaac had three brothers and a sister. He didn't know that, did he? He didn't much like to talk about them the time before. When he was nine years old, his own great-grandfather disappeared and the family knew that death had found them. So they painted symbols over the doors and windows, sealed up the house, and waited. Hours passed and boredom must have gotten the better of Isaac. He went up to his room just like you, and just like you, he forgot to be afraid. Isaac peeked out of his own window that night. There was something out there, and it stared right back. The next morning when Isaac woke up, everyone was gone. He was alone. What did he do? Ewan asked breathlessly. What could he do? She replied. He was just a little boy, all alone and terrified. He moved some pillows and a blanket into the little pantry off the kitchen, and that's where he slept. Crying himself to sleep most nights. He blamed himself, and he missed his family terribly. Ewan sat deep and thawed. It's hard to imagine Grandpa Isaac crying. He's never been afraid of anything. That made Hester smile, but pain came with remembering as well. For a moment she thought of her husband and the life they had shared together. Pushing her own sadness aside, she continued, hoping he hadn't noticed the tears beginning to form. Ewan needed to be strong now. Well, she said. How do you think he got to be so brave? The strongest steel is forged from the hottest fire, those hardest of times. That's what made him so strong. Climbing onto his grandma's lap, Ewan said, I'm so glad you're here with me. She looked sadly into his eyes. Well, that's the hardest thing, my dearest. I won't be able to stay. Just this night to get you settled. I'll be gone by first light. What? Ewan panicked. No, you can't go. Please. I don't want to be alone. I'm afraid I have no choice, my love. She said, holding him close as time passed and quietly humming a song that she used to sing to him as a baby. Ewan didn't understand why she had to go. I suppose no little boy can really be prepared for something like that. His grandma was here now. But by the morning, she would be gone. She took his chin into her hand and smiled once more. Now I'm going to dish us out two big bowls of ice cream. But after we finish, we've got some work to do. They ate the Rocky Road ice cream while Grandma Hester shared stories from her childhood. She even got a couple of smiles out of Ewan. When they finished, the great tour of the house began. First, they visited the little nail in the closet where she kept the key to the old trunk in the attic. The books and drawings were inside, explaining how to make the markings over every door and window. The fresh vial of thick glass was carefully filled to the brim with swirling liquid, wrapped and tucked into a pocket of the trunk. Also included were the handwritten instructions on how to make more. She even gave him a business card for the family accountant. He pays all the bills every month. No questions asked. Once a month, he leaves an envelope with a little cash in the mailbox. If you need anything, if any problems arise, call him. Lastly, they walked into great Grandpa Isaac's room. Grandma Hester went to the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out something wrapped in old newspaper. It was a journal Grandpa Isaac had written as a boy to help get through the solitude and loneliness. It also detailed some of the fixes to ordinary problems around the house. By the time they were finished going over things, it was nearing three o'clock in the morning. Despite his worry, Ewan's eyes began to drift closed and his head began to gnaw gently. It's time for you to get some sleep. Grandma said warmly, walking with Ewan up to his room and pulling a rocking chair to the very edge of his bed. He drifted slowly off as Grandma sang him to sleep from her rocker, watching over him and holding his hand for the last time. Some time passed and Ewan's eyes opened quickly at the sound of rapid knocking on his bedroom window. Dread fell over him like a wet blanket, wrapping his entire body with a sense of inevitability. The rocking chair next to the bed still swayed gently back and forth, but Grandma Hester wasn't there anymore. The room was empty now and darkness hung much heavier than before. Three more knocks. Ewan didn't want to get up. He wanted to hide underneath the thick wool blankets and wait for it all to be over, but he found himself standing and walking slowly towards the window anyway. With each step towards the foggy glass, his mind desperately tried to turn away to run back to safety. Three knocks louder than before, hungrier than before. Ewan watched his own hand disobey and reach out slowly to open the window. He wanted to scream, but his body wouldn't listen. Then the nightmare ended, for now at least. He woke to heavy rays of sunlight pouring in through the bedroom window. As reality dawned, he bolted straight up and flung his head to the right and reached towards the rocker, but it was empty. The thought of this big abandoned house gripped his chest like a huge weight pressing down on him. Laying his head back down on the pillow, he stared up at the ceiling and tried not to cry. Minutes passed and suddenly Ewan started to imagine the smell of bacon frying. It seemed almost as real as the nightmare had been. Then he heard a sound, clear as a bell and coming from downstairs. It was whistling. Ewan jumped up and ran down the back stairway to the kitchen. He took the last four steps at a leap and landed squarely on the black and white tiles of the kitchen floor. Steven, he shouted. I turned away from the stove just in time to catch my nephew mid-leap. He was laughing through his tears when suddenly he paused and pulled back to look me in the eyes. Will you stay? he asked. You can't get rid of me that easily. I answered. But how? he asked bewildered. It was great grandma Hester. I said. She didn't tell you because she wasn't sure it would work. Setting Ewan down, I grabbed two plates from the cupboard and filled them with bacon and scoops of scrambled eggs. Placing them down on the huge oak table, their solitude made the loss of our family feel almost palpable. Suddenly I thought better of it and we took our plates out to the front porch. Talking as we ate, I told Ewan that things would be different for a while but we would adjust. Eventually one or both of us would marry and have kids. Someday maybe even grandkids. Perhaps one day the house would be filled once again with laughter and family. For now though, it was just the two of us. I asked him if that was okay. He smiled back. Two is so much better than one. Still I knew how empty the house was going to feel with the loss of our family. I had an idea that I'd like to run past you, I said. Last week before all this started, I noticed a sign three streets over. It said they were giving away free puppies to a good home. I think they were a mix of, for real? Ewan interrupted. I smiled and finished. A mix of Labrador and Golden Retriever. We can really get a dog? He said again with a funny amount of disbelief for a boy that had seen what he had. Well, Grandma Hester did leave you in charge. It's really up to you. Yes, Ewan shouted happily. And with that we finished our breakfast, talking together about the past, but hopeful as well for the future.