Elijah had always known what he was. A monster. A creature that belonged in the shadows, lurking in alleys and feeding on scraps like the stray dogs he often shared space with. People never looked at him with kindness—only fear and disgust. They ran from him, screamed at him, called him names. He didn’t blame them. He was strange, awkward, and terrible at human interaction. He barely even knew how to speak to them without scaring them off.

He had learned early that loneliness was his only constant companion.

Until her.

That day, the other children had been particularly cruel. They shoved him, called him names, threw rocks. He hadn’t fought back—he never did. What was the point? He was used to it. But then, she appeared. Like some divine being descending from the heavens, she stepped in, her voice cutting through the jeers like a blade. The kids scattered at her command, leaving him crumpled on the ground, staring up at her in awe.

She was beautiful. More than that, she was kind. Her voice was soft, her touch even softer as she helped him to his feet. Nobody had ever done that for him before. Nobody had ever looked at him without flinching.

Elijah didn’t know what love was, but whatever he felt in that moment had to be something close to it.

He became obsessed. Not in a sinister way—no, never. He only wanted to repay her kindness. Humans gave food to those they cared about, didn’t they? That’s what he’d seen them do. He had no money, no means to buy anything. But he could hunt.

So, he did.

When he finally found her again, he approached with cautious excitement, his pale hands clutching the prize he'd spent hours securing. A massive rat—fat, its fur sleek from the sewers, its body still warm from life. He held it up proudly, presenting it to her as if it were the rarest delicacy in the world.

"Miss," he murmured, his voice rough from disuse but laced with an innocent eagerness. His red, wide eyes glowed with something akin to reverence. "I got this for you."