She slept in. When Marlene finally opened her eyes and blinked away the blurriness, she saw the small clock by the bed said 10am. She laid back. Her body stirred, trying to force her out of bed and downstairs for breakfast. Marlene never thought she would miss school so much. Or a phone. Anything really. There was a TV downstairs, but she rarely watched it. Inevitably, the creature would join her, asking questions, trying to understand her and the rest of her kind through the lens of the handful of channels available, since Mr. Meeks' streaming services long expired.

Boredom. She realized her generation finally had an escape from it, but without a screen to escape into, all she had now was long days and bird songs. She found them wanting. But boredom made her think. It made her plan. The creature said it himself. When he sleeps, it will be for months, the duration of the winter. It had never mentioned locking her up or anything, it simply expected her to be there to watch over it.

Patience. Another thing she had never mastered, but is now trying to wrangle. Maybe she should be nicer to it. Kinder. Maybe it wouldn't suspect her true plans. There were times when it brought gifts that she almost said thank you. She realized it would bring her anything she wanted. But when she thought that, when her thoughts turned toward kindness, she heard her father's screams.

He's out there still. Somewhere off the trail. Has anyone found him? Is anyone looking for her?

Besides Sebastian, does anyone care?

Happy birthday, Marlene.

* * *

Downstairs, she found the creature clinging to the ceiling, lowering itself to the ground. It shuddered and made a chittering sound. Its wings rattled and then wrapped around it. The creature straightened its posture when Marlene entered the kitchen.

"You slept in," the creature said.

"Yeah. Not much to get up for."

"I understand, you are bored and lonely. But that is temporary. When the hive is complete, you will never be alone again."

"Lonely no more, huh?"

"No creature was meant to be alone. None."

Marlene stepped around the creature to a cabinet. She opened the door, the hinges squeaking, and retrieved a box of cereal. She found it odd how accustomed to the monster's presence she became. It was a member of this new household, this family of a kidnapped girl, possessed man, and tall monster. The creature opened the fridge and handed Marlene a gallon of milk. She thanked it, a reflex, and sat down to make her breakfast.

She pulled at her shirt, trying to cover her stomach.

"What's the matter?" The creature asked.

"My clothes. They don't fit."

"You've grown larger."

"Let's just say grown and stop there."

"Nothing wrong, it is good! Means you are healthy."

The creature dragged a chair away from the table and sat down across from Marlene. She kept her head down, shoveling cereal down so she could escape. It would rest soon, and she could be outside without eyes on her.

"You need new clothing? I will send Mr. Meeks this evening."

"Thanks. Where is Mr. Meeks?"

"Waiting. I will check on him. See how he is making it in the forest."

"Juist a few shirts and pants should be good. A coat for when it's cold. A car to drive far away and never return."

"You joke well. You could go without them of course. That is what I do."

Marlene motioned to its face. "You wear a mask."

"For your benefit. I know my natural face is... inhuman."

"I'm not walking around naked."

"As you wish," the creature shrugged. It pushed back the chair and stood. "I am going to rest. Don't wander far. If you must visit the other child, be careful what you say. About me. About Mr. Meeks."

"Other child?" Marlene asked. "What child?"

"The boy. It is fine. I understand. But we—I, am vulnerable."

Marlene nodded. It knew about Sebastian. Of course it did. Maybe that meant Sebastian was safe? The creature bowed slightly, and crawled along the wall to the ceiling, where it skittered upstairs, dropping pieces of the popcorn ceiling along the way. The master bedroom was the nest, or so it called it. She had never been inside. The creature insisted she stay away. It reminded her that she may not be comfortable with how it lived, how it slept.

She heard the door shut. Like the shed, the master bedroom was a place she thought about constantly, but couldn't find the strength to open the door. She remained in the fog.

* * *

The day after the creature killed her father, Marlene woke up in a house. The interior was dark, with wooden walls like a cabin. Her blankets were flannel. Still deep in the rural expanse of the Pacific Northwest, she didn't know whose house they were in. At the time, she assumed it was a vacation home or something, and that the owners were simply out of town. Now she wondered if it killed everyone in that cabin and stashed them just out of sight.

The creature sat on her bedside, and in thin beam of morning light coming in from the window shades she got her first clear look at it. The beast was tall, taller than any person she had even seem. The creature seemed thin. It was wearing what she thought was a dark leather shroud, but would later see were its wings. The face looked like a plastic shell, with large bulbous eyes.

When it looked at her and spoke, the bottom portion of the face split apart in multiple writhing fingers, a mouth like a giant insect. She could see quilled spikes down its back, two large ones pointing back from its head, like antenna made from black bladed knives.

"You are alive?" It had a voice like a weak crackling radio signal.

Marlene screamed and tried to escape, kicking against her covers, and falling out of bed. She landed on a stuffed bear that squeaked. Dog toy, or child's? What was worse? She knew of course, which is why in remembering she insisted it was a dog toy.

The creature bounded her in its arms, it felt like a hundred encircled her, all made from a cold shell with spiky hairs that jabbed her skin. Later, she would know it only had eight arms and legs total. The main arms were similar in appearance and shape as a person's, only covered in an exoskeleton and ending in long skeletal fingers. The other arms usually remained folded into its side; they were much thinner. It walked on two legs like a person. But it crawled so much faster, and flew faster still. Walking seemed to be, like the white mask it would later don, a benefit for her.

Bounded in its arm, she sobbed and called for her dad. The creature shushed her.

"He is gone. But I will take care of you."

* * *

Marlene didn't hear Sebastian approach. In her right hand she had several stones. In her left, she chucked one after another at the shed, where it bounced off with a twang.

"This is sad," Sebastian said.

Marlene looked back. "What?"

"This is like how our great grandparents wasted time. Throwing rocks and kicking cans. Or racism. Old people stuff."

"I don't have any games and the TV gets three channels. I can only watch so many teen moms yell at their moms."

Sebastian picked up a rock for the ground and tossed it at the shed. "Eh, it's kinda fun. Should we open it up?"

Marlene considered it. She dropped the stones and brushed the dust away on her pants.

"Where did you live before moving in with Meeks?" Sebastion asked.

"Washington. I lived with my dad." She could make it all sound so normal if she wanted. It made he wonder how many kids out there were trapped; how many could make horror mundane? Was this a gift or a curse, something kids alone did or could grownups too?

"I'm sorry. Any place is better than here," Sebastian said.

"It was pretty up there."

"There's pretty places in Oklahoma too. But man, the ticks are insane."

"Hey," Marleen asked. "Want to hang out at your house?"

"My house?" Sebastian thought, really thought, to figure out if he ever had a friend over. "Hell yeah, let's go!"

Marlene laughed. "Lead to way. I just gotta be back by dark."

"Those seem like reasonable boundaries."