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Eventually, after many long screams, these became pleas for an end of their torment.
The sounds became more distant, but when the wind dipped down, he could hear the agonized screams even still. But worse, the sounds of echoing feminine laughter made him clutch his son tighter.
Eventually the door opened. He raised a sword in one hand, leveling it at the would-be intruder. He lowered it when he saw the silhouette of horns and wings.
She was nude, but covered with blood. Her eyes burned red in the dark beneath a crown of horns. The figure appeared too large to fit in the doorway, but then somehow did. It was clear his eyes were playing tricks on him. The glow faded, and the look on her face changed when she saw his expression.
Her face had borne an expression of cold, calculating loathing and condescension. She appeared so alien with her prominent cheekbones and horns, with the deep lacerations healing as he watched. It was a beautiful face that contained not an ounce of mercy or pity.
Then, he saw her flinch. Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, honey. The hunt is over. We're safe."
He nodded. Remaining still as she reached forward for their son.
She smiled as she looked down at the bundle in her arms.
"Mama would do anything for you," she whispered, a woman covered in blood and viscera. The talons on her hands shortened until they resembled fingernails again, and she touched her baby's cheek lightly. "And this is part of anything."
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