An elderly woman must explore painful memories of her past to protect herself and a young girl from what could be a horrific creature of the night.
 

    Catherine passed behind her guest and went into the kitchen.  She heard his soggy shirt hit the floor as she set the candle on the kitchen table.  Numerous questions shot through her mind.  Were those bloodstains on his fingers?  If so, where had they come from?  Maybe he was a hunter who had killed and gutted an animal before coming here.  But where was his catch?  Had he decided not to carry it through the rain?  No hunter she had ever known would abandon his trophy, even if balls of fire were falling from the sky.

    Then a distressing notion emerged.  What if he was a hunter who was still on the trail of his prey–and that prey was Emily?  What if he was the monster from the woods?

    Catherine nervously rubbed her hands across the front of her skirt as her mind whirled.  Emily had not said that the creature had actually harmed her, so if he was the creature, he had acquired the blood by injuring or slaying something else.  Maybe he had murdered a man for his clothes.  That would explain why they didn’t fit him correctly.  But why had he gone to all this work to appear human?

    The answer was so obvious that Catherine couldn’t help but feel ashamed at her ignorance.  He had adopted this guise so he could get inside the house.  Well, now he was in here, so why hadn’t he changed and slain her and Emily?  

    Catherine pushed other questions to the deepest corner of her mind.  She pulled a kettle from one of her cupboards, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove.  She lit the stove, then silently crept to the doorway of the kitchen and watched the man.  He was huddled up inside the blanket, his attention captured by the fire as he slid his fingernails across his tongue.

    Catherine eyed John’s gun, but realized the weapon would do her no good.  She would not have time to load it before her guest . . . did what, exactly?  Struck her down and tore her throat out?  Catherine mentally scolded herself.  Here she was plotting to kill a man seeking succor from the storm, a man she had willfully invited into her home.  Then she remembered what had happened the last time, and she vowed not to let events happen that way again.