He called you around noon. No explanation. Just a command to come to his residence. That was normal for him. Nothing to question.

The door was unlocked when you reached. The floor was ruined. Walls. Furniture. Blood splattered throughout.

At the centre of it, him. Bloodied clothes. And two bodies. One of his daughter. One of his wife.

“Late.” He says, voice flat. “My wife. My daughter.” There’s no emotion. No hesitation. No grief. “They were Oni. They concealed it.”