Ballads of the Protectors: The Beginning

Enrique sits on the edge of his bed, clenching his Burhmann repeating rifle. His wife, Josephine, stares directly at the ceiling of the homestead’s master bedroom. Her expressionless, still demeanor hides the fear she carries. The silent night is being defiled by the bleating cries of the rancher’s goats as they are taken by what lurks in the night. 

A faint whine is heard in the bedroom as it quickly builds up in intensity. Josephine gasps and promptly gets out of bed to hush the baby that has woken up from the goats’ pleads of mercy. The distance from the foot of the bed to the cradle is not far, but the wooden bed frame and the oak floorboards creak loudly with the steps of the frantic mother rushing to calm the baby. Enrique looks back as Josephine’s eyes fill with tears, hushing the child, attempting to cover its mouth with her hand. The dark bedroom turns a few shades darker. Enrique’s eyes widen, and he freezes, watching Josephine’s mouth make out the words ‘sorry.’ Josephine witnesses in horror as the silhouette of a beast intercepts the moonlight shining through the bedroom window. A tall creature stands on its hind legs, swaying its head from side to side. A harsh, raspy thud comes from the window as the beast puts its meaty paws on the glass. The white curtains hide the creature’s features, and in return, the beast cannot see the family within the confines of the structure. The baby feels its mother's rapid respire, its wails covered by its mother's hand. The baby squirms while Josephine holds him tightly to her bosom. Enrique hears the beast sniffing around the exterior window sill. He slowly stands up and raises his repeater, the monster’s head inches away from the window, scratching the glass with its claws. 

After a few seconds of silence, which feels like an eternity for the family, the creature walks away to continue its meal in the pens. Josephine whispers a lullaby to the baby, soothing it gently. The bedroom door slowly creaks open, and Josephine lets out a sigh of relief and signals the young girl to be quiet with a finger on her pursed lips. Lilly tiptoes quickly and hugs her mom's waist; Enrique bends to one knee and kisses his seven-year-old daughter on the forehead. “Did the goats wake you up?” he whispers. Lily nods, "You're courageous to get out of bed.” Enrique stands up and nods at his wife; she quickly grabs Enrique’s arms. “No!” she gently whispers, looking down at the repeating rifle. 

“At least it scares it away,” Enrique pauses and takes a deep breath. “We can’t keep losing livestock like this,” Enrique pulls his shoulders back. 

“Don’t go,” says Josephine. “We’ve seen that bullets don’t hurt it.”

Enrique lifts his finger in the air and gently moves it to behind his ear lobe. Both Josephine and Lilly perk their necks up, trying to listen. The chaotic rambling of bells and bleating continues goats in a frenzy, watching in horror as a large predator eats one of them in their pen.

“Five times, Josie,” Enrique whispers, looking at his wife. “And twice this month…we’re in the red, we lost our herd dogs, we can't afford to replace them, we can’t keep losing goats like this. Whatever that monstrosity is, it has got way too comfortable now.”

Enrique slowly walks towards the bedroom door and tells Josephine and Lilly to stay put. He creeps down the hallway of his home and gently unlatches the lock to the back door. The gentle push of the door makes no noise. Enrique’s eyes adjust to the dimly lit night from the bright stars and full moon. Enrique can tell that the stable barn is unbothered, and the horses know better than to neigh and make themselves known on the premises. The only animals crying out are the goats and chickens, who have their coops right next to the goat pens. Enrique quietly walks down the wooden porch stairs and rounds the corner of the house. He can slightly see the black mass of the creature bent on all fours, devouring one of the goats. The silhouette makes the creature look like a large boulder on the dark horizon; if not for the crunching of bones, the splintering of timber, and the gnawing of flesh, one could easily mistake what lay ahead.

Enrique crouches and gently saunters, ensuring he does not rustle any foliage underneath his house slippers to bring attention to his presence. With a cartridge already chambered, he kneels and raises his rifle. He aims at the boulder-shaped silhouette. Enrique fires two rounds; his fast lever action speed deters the beast(s), and he fires a third round. Two distinct creatures bellow from the gunshot wounds, but they do not fall; Enrique gasps and sees two pairs of slightly glowing eyes looking in his direction. Enrique quickly stands up and fires two more rounds before sprinting as fast as he can back up the porch stairs and into the house. He quickly latches the locks and runs to the master bedroom. Josephine is pacing, trying to put the baby back to sleep, while Lily looks tensed, almost as if holding her breath. “There are two of them…now,” whispered Enrique, heaving, trying to catch his breath. “They…did not run when I fired at them…I think they’re still out there.”

Josephine looks down at her child resting on her bosom and kisses its forehead; she holds the kiss for a few seconds before looking at Enrique. “Are we going to have to move?”

Enrique ponders and gently walks to his side of the bed. He looks at the oak lamp stand, which has barely visible dust prints from the beam of moonlight coming in through the window.

“We’ll see,” he says, trying to listen for any scratching from the back door, indicating the creatures chased after him. The chickens could be heard, but the goat’s bleating had subsided.

The family got no sleep, but when Enrique put on his trousers and boots, Lily awoke and was taken back to her room to continue her rest. Enrique made the promise to his wife that he would ride into town and see if there was anything that could be done. He needed to figure something out, whether it was the sheriff or local men who could lend a hand.

The goat pens were a mess; the creatures were large enough to shatter the wooden structures where the goats lay, and the wooden posts were loose and damaged. The bits they did not like lay covered in dirt and flies; ugh, great, Enrique mumbled. He moves the remaining goats to the stable barn and thinks about what to do with the chickens since they will be next if he does not do something quick. He mounts up and hopes to find some countermeasures soon.

Plenty of pedestrians were strolling through the red dirt roads of Yokum. The early trains carrying livestock unload the cattle at the stock show corrals. Merchants are opening up their shops, and Enrique hears the shink of one of the butchers sharpening his knives with the body of a freshly killed and drained swine hanging from hooks in his outdoor stall. Enrique pats his mare while he lets a few lumber wagons pass by him; he makes his way to the jailhouse. 

“How are ya?” Says a young lad lighting a cigarette and looking at Enrique hitch his mare on the hitching post outside the jailhouse. Enrique greets the young deputy and walks inside to meet with Sheriff Langford.

“Yous thought they were gonna come and help ya out, huh.”

Enrique sees Sheriff Langford mocking a detainee. The prisoner paces in his cell, infuriated, and spits as the sheriff laughs. Before Enrique can address the sheriff, Langford saunters toward his visitor.

“Enrique! What can I do for ya?” Langford places his dirt-stained cattleman hat on the maple wood desk cluttered with all sorts of papers and coasters used for whiskey glasses.

“Beasts are eating my goats; last night was the fifth time.”

Langford brushes his nose with the tip of his thumb and inspects it as if intrigued he’d have snot on his finger. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Enrique takes a deep breath and shrugs his shoulders in discontent. “Some deputies, sir, perhaps…I’ve tried to scare it away, but last night there were two. I fired-“ Sheriff Langford raises his finger, interjecting Enrique. “Let me stop you right there,” Langford sits on his desk chair. The creaking of the wing doors makes Enrique and Langford look at two men enter the jailhouse with deputy badges on. “You’re not the only one, Mr. Monte,” Langford continues. “Two months ago, ol’Stroman came in claiming some cattle rustlers had stolen some of his cows. I sent out four of my boys to do a stakeout, hoping they’d catch these rustlers. Mmmm,” Langford shakes his head. “It was a whistler the whole time.”

The men that had walked in turn attentively catching something out of context that sparks their attention.

“Are ya talking about the time we lost Joseph?" one of the men asked. The sheriff nods his head and looks at Enrique. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Monte, but I can’t send any of my deputies.”

The wing doors creak again, and the men see the young deputy walking inside after his smoke break. After a few seconds, Enrique thinks about what he should do since this is his only option. He looks at Langford and asks, “Did y’all kill it?”

“Pardon?”

“The whistler, did y’all kill it? I wasn’t aware Stroman was having his cattle taken.”

“Oh! Unfortunately, no,” answered Langford. “No, haha…our bullets deal no damage to foul beasts, Mr. Monte. My men fired at the thing and ran like pandemonium was on their coattails. I’ve seen Stroman around bringing in some cattle, so I assume he figured out a way to deal with the problem, though.”

“I see,” Enrique nods and gives a faint smile, turning to the wing doors.

“You got a whistler problem?” Asks one of the deputies.

“Yeah, something like that,” Enrique answers.

“I’ve heard ranchers employ the services of them protectors,” interjects the young deputy. “Shoot, I think that's what that Mr. Stroman feller did.”

“You’re out of your mind, boy,” responds Langford, chuckling while dusting his cattleman hat. “That’ll cost ya a pretty penny.”

“It’s the only thing that works!” Declares the young deputy. While Langford and his men are going back and forth about these ‘protectors’ services, Enrique makes a faint remark about going to find Mr. Stroman. Enrique leaves the jailhouse feeling disappointed about the lack of help from the sheriff but is curious as to what methods William Stroman has used to deter the problem he has had. Enrique was unaware that other ranchers around the county were dealing with similar issues, although it would make sense. Enrique also admits to himself that it took till the fifth time for him to come to Yokum to seek help. Mr. Stroman’s ranch is about ten miles south of Yokum, and Enrique doubts he will be in town, so he mounts up and heads towards Stroman's property.

Enrique can see a herd of cattle grazing in one of the open fields not far off the road. He halts his mare, takes a moment, and decides to go and check if this is one of Stroman’s herd. Enrique lifts an arm in the air, trying to catch the attention of one of the cowboys. Eventually, a rider sees him and trots his horse to meet Enrique before he gets too close to the herd. 

“You lost friend?” Says the cowboy, spiting a dark, dense blob from chewing tobacco leaves.

“Are these Stroman’s cattle?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’d like to speak to him.”

The cowboy spits again while leaning on the horn and swell of his saddle. “He’s at the homestead.”

Enrique tips his hat and turns back to the road.

It takes Enrique little time to reach his destination. He quickly finds the burly man hunched over, attentive with his tools by the shoeing stock. Both gentlemen dispense with their pleasantries.

“Desperation will get you nowhere, Monte. Relax. It’s only a few animals,” says William Stroman condescendingly while inspecting some horseshoes.

“I got mouths to feed,” replies Enrique, having doubts after making the trip all the way to the other side of the county. “Grain feed and hay has gone up, price per pound of meat has gone down.”

“Don’t remind me,” interjects William, letting out a big sigh through his nostrils. “Beef has been hit pretty bad, too.”

“I just want to put an end to it,” Enrique ponders whether he made the right choice of moving to the country and raising animals. “So, how did you kill that whistler the sheriff was telling me about?” Enrique asks after a few seconds of silence.

William heaves and chuckles, “I didn’t kill it; the protectors did.”

Enrique looks puzzled, but before he can ask what or how, William says, “Your parents never told you stories of those protectors and their wicked steeds?”

Enrique takes a pause and thinks, "Not that I recall. I grew up in the city most of my life. And if they did, I probably wasn’t paying attention.”

“Hmmm, you didn’t miss much—just tales to get us from wandering too far from the property. Well,” William starts polishing the horseshoe he was inspecting earlier. “Even in the city, there are things that creep in the night as well.” 

“I never really paid attention,” says Enrique, leaning on the shoeing stock. 

“Huh…well, my mama used to tell us stories all the time; I never believed her myself until I was fifteen. Let me tell you, Monte, they do their job well.”

“How do I get a hold of them?”

“I spoke with that weird sorceress gal Juanita in town.”

“The town mage? Really?" Enrique is skeptical that a local healer would know anything about the creatures that seem to plague ranchers from time to time. Although Enrique himself did not understand them or even know the classifications of different monsters, a local healer would probably know more, depending on what types of wounds people are coming in with. 

“Unless you have another way of contacting the order, she’s probably your best bet.”

Enrique leaves William’s property and rides back to Yokum. He is still skeptical and frustrated that his day has been spent on this ‘goose’ chase of finding remedies to deter his problem. What or who these ‘protectors’ are, he does not know. This is the first time in his life that he has ever heard such a term. Enrique is indifferent about William but also thinks he wouldn’t lie about such things. How else could he make the creature that was terrorizing his cattle stop? Traps and switches-maybe, but they wouldn’t hold off the brutes eating his goats. He believes he has few options but to talk to Juanita and see what can happen.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” said Juanita. The middle-aged sorceress writes on a piece of parchment. Enrique looks around her clinic; he wrinkles his nostrils with the smell of disinfectant alcohol and bitter fragrance candles placed on every window sill. 

“I just know the head mage of their order. When I send her these inquiries, they handle the rest.” Juanita smiles, folds the parchment, and seals it with hot wax. Enrique thanks her and heads back home to his wife. We’ll see what happens, Enrique thinks. It doesn’t feel like I have done anything, but at least a few people know of the problem. 

The past two days and nights were silent in the Monte ranch. The family tends to what needs to be done on the property and worries if the night will be the night that the brutes come back to feast. A few more days pass; Enrique continues with his work and rides into Yokum for supplies and feed. Juanita tells him there is still no response. Enrique wonders if his message ever reached these ‘protectors.’ Soon, a whole week passes, although the week has been peaceful regarding the monsters not returning. He worries now about the inevitable and the help that should arrive at any time.

On a warm beautiful day, dusk arrives, and the family prepares for the night. Around midnight, they are awakened by a booming knock at their front door. The baby is frightened and begins to wail. Josephine quickly picks up the infant while Enrique charges down the passageway with the rifle in hand. Another booming knock rattles the door and the frame.

“STATE YOUR BUSINESS OR I’LL SHOOT!” Roars Enrique, pointing his repeater at the door. There was a brief silence before a voice was heard from the other side of the door. “You da feller with the beast problem?”

Enrique’s eyes widen, and his shoulders lower slightly before he tightens his grip and takes a better stance. “Is this some kind of joke?” Enrique's voice tauts. 

“No sir,” responds the gruff voice on the other side. “Just trying to do our job.”

“Get lost friend! Not at this hour!”

After a few seconds of silence, the voice states, “You can go back to bed, Mr. Monte. We’ll patrol the area.”

Enrique hears heavy boot steps walking away from the other side of the door. He thinks about slinging the door open and firing at whatever is trying to pull this unpleasant joke. He stops himself from doing such a thing in fear of inviting some malevolent spirit into his home by giving it easy access through the front door. He tiptoes back to the master bedroom and informs his wife of what just transpired. An unpleasant reaction was warranted from Josephine as both heard that something or someone was roaming their property without their permission. Enrique creeps to the bedroom window and peers into the night. He sees two lights swaying from side to side- lanterns around the goat pens. Josephine saunters behind him and asks if it would be wise to do something about it or let this pass. “I have no idea what is going on, honestly, the fact that it knew our surname…I don’t know.”

Enrique continues to observe the lanterns roaming around the goat pens and the chicken coops, and the light radiating from them allows Enrique to pick out a few details. They are humanoid in shape, with two legs and arms; he can not get a glimpse of their upper bodies. The lanterns lower and rise, indicating the persons holding the lanterns are crouching and standing up. Enrique does not hear any clinks or loud bangs, suggesting they are trying to steal farm equipment. He sees one lantern walking away from the other; Enrique tries to follow it and stretches his neck as far as the sight through the window allows him. In the distance, the lantern stops by a horse. Enrique can make out a saddle bag; although faint, he imagines someone rummaging through their saddlebags for supplies.

Bones! Enrique thinks to himself. Were those bones, what the. The lantern gleamed around its surroundings; the faint swaying from its slim handle illuminated the rear end of the mount that Enrique imagined was there. He was right; the person holding the lantern was rummaging through their saddle for something, but the mount’s legs and rear. Enrique could not believe it was skeletal in appearance. It's the night, the lantern, the window…Yeah, I just, huh? Enrique reasons with himself and continues to observe over the next half-hour; nothing extraordinary happens. Enrique sees the lanterns doing the same thing, walking around the property, stopping in certain areas, observing, and continuing to walk. The low adrenaline and the song of crickets and cicadas at night make Enrique drowsy. Josephine fell asleep with their child Lucas in the rocking chair. He gets away from the window, kisses his wife on the forehead, and plops on his side of the bed.

The next day, Enrique remembers what had transpired the night before; he walks diligently around his property and notices nothing is amiss. Whoever they were with their lanterns, they did not move any of his equipment, and no animals were missing. He continues doing the work he needs to do throughout his day when his daughter mentions, "There! Right there, Daddy, look.” Enrique stops brushing his mare and steps out of the barn to see in the distance, about five hundred meters to a kilometer away in the prairie, two silhouettes- riders hunched over on their mounts. They spur their horses and trot a bit; Enrique sees them glaring in their direction. They continue trotting perpendicular, where Enrique gets a good view of the profile of the steeds. “Get inside, sweetie,” says Enrique sternly to Lily. Enrique hides his awe from his daughter, but he recognizes the feeble, lanky creature of one of the riders. Both riders are wearing regular attire, apart from one wearing a duster coat. The mounts, however, Enrique is now confident that they are undead.

He sees them ride off into some mesquite brush encompassing the prairie and disappear. Enrique becomes jumpy after that and even slings his repeater across his back for the remainder of his work day. Enrique and Josephine are awoken at night by the bleating of goats being driven from the barn.

“No!” Enrique exclaims. “Bastards,” he quickly puts on his boots, grabs his gun, and runs outside, ready to shoot at the rustlers attempting to steal his goats.

“HEY!” He screams, unable to see who he needs to shoot at. A young man about the age of twenty approaches with his hands up from the darkness. Smiling, he quickly tries to explain what is going on: "Ayyyee easy now, Mr. Monte.”

“Who the hell are you?! What are you doing with my goats.”

“We need bait,” another voice resonates, coming from another young man as he appears from the shadows. He is also the same age as the one Enrique was pointing his gun at.

“We don’t know what's been killing them, so we need to draw this creature out.”

Enrique continues to breathe frantically and with the butt of the rifle steadily pressed on his shoulder.

“Relax Mr. Monte.”

“How do you know my name?” Enrique points the gun back and forth at both gentlemen.

“It's what was on the contract we received. Mr. Enrique Monte, is it not?”

“Y-Y-Yea, and what contract? What are you talking about?!”

“We’re protectors, just doing our job.”

Enrique lessens his grip but still points the repeater back and forth to the two gentlemen.

“It's late, why now? I never permitted you to be here, and I never signed a contract.”

“We can discuss this after we’re done, Mr. Monte.”

The two gentlemen turn their backs on Enrique and continue to push the goats to the pens.

“We advise you to go back inside,” said one of the men- a fair-skinned lad with a black wool cattleman hat and two bandoliers strapped in an X across his chest. “We still don’t know what we are dealing with here.”

Enrique is speechless but will not deter. “I don’t care! Leave!” Exclaims Enrique. “I was under the impression that protectors were some professionals. Now get the fuck out!”

“Well, we’re certainly not professionals,” chuckled the other protector, who was wearing a duster coat and a double-barreled shotgun slung across his back. “The letter we received said you had a big foul beast eating your livestock, so that's why we are here.”

“What we found certainly ain’t no coyotes," remarked the one wearing the bandoliers. “But we’ll have our answers here pretty soon.” Points the protector ahead in the distance, “We are being hunted right now.”

Enrique looks puzzled, and the one in the duster coat remarks, "Mmmm, what do you think? An ughal.”

“Nawww,” responds the other protector, unholstering his revolver. “Doesn’t have red eyes,” he clicks on the ratchet of the cylinder, and six cartridges jump out. Enrique sees him whisper something inaudible. The cartridges glow a bright red and then subside in their illumination. The protector loads his revolver again and closes the break action. 

“We implore that you go back inside, Mr. Monte,” the protector said in a more serious tone. “You’ll only get in the way, and we will compensate for any goats lost.”

“W-wai-“ utters Enrique while being slightly pushed by the other protector to go back inside.

“Lock the door; we’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Enrique watches as his goats enter their pens without hassle, and the two protectors stride ahead, giving each other different signals. What just happened, Enrique thinks to himself. He decides to heed their words, goes inside his home, and locks the doors. He does not trust what is going on, but he also does not question what he witnessed when those cartridges illuminated bright red. 

Enrique informs Josephine of what happened, “I mean, is this what you imagined when Mr. Stroman told you about these protectors?”

“I was hoping there would be more clarity,” responds Enrique, peering through his window trying to keep an eye on his animals. “All of this is too confusing,” he continues to remark.

The usual sights and sounds of nighttime are present; Josephine checks on Lily and tries to get rest, feeling safe that her husband is watching through the window. The silence is quickly broken when the echo of a gunshot is heard. Enrique estimates it came from a couple hundred meters away from the house. He remembers what was told to him about being informed once these creatures were dead. The gunshot raises the curiosity of Enrique in thinking that perhaps that was it, just two hunters killing their prey.

A loud thud suddenly sends a jolt through Enrique’s spine. The thud comes from the roof, like something landed on top of the house. Josephine startles and screams; a strange raspy noise follows the thud like a sharp pick scraping on stone. Enrique follows the noise with his eyes, trying to deduce what it is. He suddenly hears a faint yell, "There’s another one!” Another one? he thinks. He pulls the curtains to the side to see outside. He lets out a yelp and jumps back; a large mass leaps from the roof. Right in front of the window stands a menacing creature about seven feet tall. It was sniffing, pacing closer to the window. Enrique could not look away at the brute; this was the closest he had ever seen one of the beasts.

Enrique freezes as he makes eye contact with the monster while it is sniffing the air; the beast moves closer, peering through the window at Enrique. Its hot breath fogs the glass; its heavy furry paws press against the glass while the claws give that distinct screeching sound that Enrique has heard before. Another gunshot is heard, and the creature bellows and turns its head from the direction the shot came from. More gunshots are heard, and Enrique flinches as he can feel that a few hit the house. His wife yells; he musters the confidence to move and grabs his repeater, “Come on! Come on!”

Enrique grabs Josephine, “Take the kids! Up the attic or something, lock the hatch.”

The creature continues to stand on its hind legs, putting all of its weight and might toward the window of the master bedroom. With sheer force, the brute breaks the glass…loud crash, yelling, and a low bass howl penetrate Enrique’s ears. He reacts and fires his rifle at the window. With little resistance, the beast persists. Josephine grabs the baby quickly, which starts to wail, and runs out of the room yelling for Lily. Enrique looks at the beast as it pulls its body through the window frame. A large furry monster with strong muscular hind legs and canine-like paws, a battle cry is heard behind the creature, and it sprawls over. Enrique tries to keep his composure and sees that one of the protectors is firing at the beast. But the bullets from the protector were having little to no effect on it, just like Enrique’s repeating rifle. The creature gives a loud howl towards the protector and rushes at him at full speed. Enrique witnesses the beast tackle the protector and slash at his chest. The creature suddenly stops as its body indicates it was hit from the upper back close to its neck.

Galloping and hollering become more apparent, and Enrique sees the protector with the duster coat rush to the scene, riding his undead steed. The grotesque body of the lanky entity, which gives evidence that it once was a horse, rears itself and bucks at the furry beast. The rider fires more shotgun shells. Meanwhile, the one who was tackled rolls on the ground and pulls himself up, firing his revolver at the monster. Both unleash a volley of rounds, but the beast refuses to surrender.

“Continue to use acid!” Enrique hears from the protectors. “Nothing is working, dammit!”

“Where’s the other one!”

“I lost it…it ran off!”

After that remark, a loud howl was heard through the loud pops and whistles of the bullets, but it was not from the beast that was being fired upon. Through all the chaos, Enrique’s ears perk, and a cold sensation runs down his spine as he hears Lily and Josephine screaming from somewhere in the house. He does little thinking; his body reacts without him processing what is going on. His legs take him to his daughter’s room while he is yelling for his wife and kids.

Entering his daughter’s room, he sees what has made his family scream. In the room window again, another creature starts pushing against the glass.

“Get behind me!” Enrique orders. He fires his repeater, hoping that it will stop the beast from trying to get in. After firing three rounds, he quickly loads more cartridges into the repeater and tells his family to run. The beast does halt when fired upon but promptly regains its poise and starts charging at the window. Enrique runs out of the room and closes the door behind him.

“Run! Just run!” He yells, his voice muffled by a loud crash and glass breaking, hitting hardwood flooring. Enrique looks behind him and sees the wooden door break while the brute sniffs the air before targeting the family running. Josephine unlatches the door and picks up Lily by her arm. Enrique continues to fire rounds at the beast while it makes its way through the hallway passage. 

“Just run!” Yells Enrique, watching his family trudge through the darkness and harsh foliage of the dusty plains. Enrique turns around every few steps, firing at the beast, ensuring he holds it off while back peddling and continuing his movement. The protectors continue to fight the other beast, unaware of the one chasing the Montes. Enrique fires all the rounds from the repeater and continues to sprint; he is unable to reload on a sprint and decides just to run. Adrenaline forces his body to keep pushing despite his harsh breathing and tiredness. He catches up to his wife, “Give me Lily! I can carry her!”

The young girl extends her arms and grabs her father’s hand. He flings her on his back. He can feel her tense arms slowly choking his neck, but he continues to push. Lily’s crying and heaving by his ear blocks out the low howl right behind them. Enrique finds an extra boost in him as he almost feels and smells the hot, foul breath of the beast.

In a moment of hyper-fixation on just running, his mind blocks out all surroundings, his sight becomes blurry, and a warm sensation trickles down his back. A warmth that, for a moment, brings bliss as the cool wind breaks against his face. His stride falters, and he notices the once-tense arms of his beloved child start to loosen more and more. The screaming of his wife seems almost distant; the hard dirt that brushes on his face as he topples brings his mind back to the inevitable. His body reacts, and he quickly picks himself up, although his mind has dissociated. The smell of iron fills his nostrils, warm water fills his skin, but his mind quickly recognizes what it is. His daughter, squealing and full of blood, squirms on the dirt and grass. The proximity of the beast was able to slice her back, and a huge gash paralyzed Lily quickly. Without any moment of rational, Enrique grabs the barrel of his repeater and twists his torso, using the gun as a blunt melee weapon toward the head of the beast inches away from the girl's face. His efforts are in vain as a loud crunch and splatter sounds of victory for the beast. Its powerful jaws crunch the skull of a child with ease. Enrique continues to bash the monster’s face with the butt of the rifle, but the creature's massive forearms topple Enrique. He hits his head and rolls awkwardly, forcing his body to contort in uncomfortable positions. While trying to get his bearings, the beast lunges at Josephine.

Josephine tosses the infant toward Enrique’s direction in a last effort to save her child in a motherly, graceful sacrifice. Enrique yells, watching Josephine be disemboweled by the monster’s dagger-like claws. Her screams turn to gurgles as she drowns in her blood, watching the beast slice her intestines with its piercing teeth. Enrique uses all his might to lunge himself on top of his child, hoping that what is about to happen will happen quickly. The monster, in a bloodlust frenzy, swipes at the back of Enrique, and the sharp, stinging pain goes away from nerves being severed and the brain in shock. Enrique’s body releases its bowls while his mind only wonders about the safety of his child, whispering, ‘I’m sorry.’

“It’s over here!” Says one of the protectors, both whipping their undead steeds as they approach the carnage unfolding. The creature gives an agonizing howl as its flesh begins to transform into an icy form. Both protectors fire relentlessly at the beast, finally having figured out what type of ammo can kill these types of monsters. Its flesh, slowly freezing, halts the monster from trying to run. The shotgun slugs encompass the monster’s entire body, its howl slowly decrescendos. What was the beast moments ago is now a solid block of ice that starts breaking down into small pieces. A fierce fire engulfs the monster, giving the protectors a sigh of relief, knowing that they killed the monster. A fire with no smoke, signaling that this, indeed, was a soulless wretch.

Both men unmount their horses and check on the family, the muffle wailing of the baby is faint but audible. One of them quickly searches for the child. He flips the limp, lifeless body of Enrique, “Baby is alive!”

“Well, pick it up, damnit! We’ll take him with us.” They see the remains of the little girl and wife. "All dead. Not good," said one of the protectors, checking the wounds of the deceased.

“I wonder what its name is?” The infant wails while the protector tries to soothe it.

“We can always check the records for the family in the courthouse. That won’t be too difficult," says the other protector in the duster coat, gathering the creature’s ashes into a small vial.

“It has a bracelet, with a little bit of light…hold on?” The protector carries the child and presents it close to the lantern's light. “I think his name is Lucas.”

“We’ll take him…he’ll be our payment for this contract.”

“The Order isn’t going to be happy with this one; it was pretty sloppy.”

“Mmmm, it's part of the job. At least we were able to save one,” the other protector wearing the duster coat glances at Lucas, the child still wailing. “He’ll tire himself out…congratulations, little guy. I guess you’ll be part of our guild.”

Both men mount up their undead steeds and ride off to report back on the completion of their contract and for the bodies to be given a proper burial.