The wind whipped through the ramshackle streets, causing the windows to rattle and dust to fly into people’s eyes. The thunder rumbled long and deep and was followed by a blinding flash of lighting. The rain poured down, dousing the town’s inhabitants so that they looked like they had been swimming in the sea rather than walking down Main Street.

“If we don’t close the gates now, we won’t survive the night!” Harold yelled; although much of the volume was lost amongst the wails of the wind. “Alexander, Aileen, Hamish, you head to the front gates. Samuel, David, and Edine, take the gates at the rear of the town!” Harold watched as they ran in opposite directions to fulfil his orders. He went to the town hall to address the worried townsfolk. He had assumed the mayor’s position after the previous one was slaughtered twenty minutes beforehand. Harold closed his eyes against the images that flooded his brain of the mayor bleeding out, his blood mingling with the rainwater. He grimaced. They had been so unprepared.

…

At the front gate, Alexander heaved with all the might he possessed, trying to get the lever to shift so that the gates would close. A stray branch had blown into it, causing it to become bent. Hamish scrambled up the ladder to help and slowly but surely the lever moved. The two grinned at each other in relief, their bright white teeth a sharp contrast in the darkness.

“Stop! Stop! STOP!” The men looked down to where Aileen was standing near the opening of the gate. “There’s someone out there!” They looked out and, sure enough, they saw a bedraggled figure stumbling towards the town. Hamish and Alexander stopped what they were doing. 

The figure gradually came into focus. It looked to be a young man clothed in rags and covered in scratches. It was impossible to determine the colour of his hair due to it being soaked and caked in mud. As he approached the gate, he collapsed and Aileen went out to meet him. As she bent down, the man moved upwards, striking her in the stomach. Aileen staggered backwards, a wet red patch expanding across her front. Alexander jumped down from the platform and sprinted towards her. The young man started shaking, his skin bubbling and turning an unnatural shade of claret.

Aileen unsheathed the dagger she had strapped to her ankle and slashed the man across his throat. This action had expended the last of her energy and she fell to her knees and then to the ground. Alexander roared in anger and grief as he watched his wife collapse. The young man had seemingly completed his transformation and Alexander recognised the vile creature as the same species that had murdered their mayor. He didn’t think. He pulled the hammer from around his waist (he was the town’s blacksmith after all) and ran towards the horrifying creature. When he thought he was close enough, he leapt forward and swung his hammer down. Aileen’s actions had made the monster slow to respond. It reacted too late to save itself and Alexander felt its skull fracture and shatter beneath his hammer.

Above, Hamish resumed pulling the lever. Out in the distance, Alexander saw more creatures gathering and approaching the town at a frightening pace. Hamish was panting with the effort, but soon the gates closed with a thud and Alexander heard them click into place. Hamish jumped down and together they went to Aileen. Her chest wasn’t moving. Hamish placed two fingers on her neck.

“I can’t feel a pulse and she’s not breathing. I’m so sorry.” Alexander felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. They had only been married for three months. His tears mixed with the rain. “It seems these creatures can assume a human form. We should go and inform Harold.” Alexander nodded. The action was difficult as his head felt so heavy. 

…

Harold faced the town’s inhabitants. Everyone seemed afraid on edge but also weary. It was going to be a long night. Samuel, David, and Edine had already returned after closing the rear gate. He was starting to feel concerned that the other three had not yet made it back. 

Another fifteen minutes passed and Harold wondered if it was time to send out a search party. But at that moment, Hamish and Alexander came through the doors. Alexander seemed almost broken. Hamish hurried towards the podium and Harold was tense wondering what he was going to say. Hamish spoke quietly. Each word that Hamish spoke filled Harold with grief and fear and he battled to keep his face impassive. He glanced towards where Alexander was sitting and felt pity and sympathy well up within him for the man.

After Hamish had sat down in the congregation, Harold moved to address everyone.

“Sanctuary is under attack. These creatures are bloodthirsty and seek to destroy our very way of life. We cannot let that happen. We have lost our mayor, we have lost wives and husbands, sons and daughters. Eleven have tragically perished. We cannot lose any more.” He paused and moved his gaze across the audience. Those that had lost loved ones cried softly or clutched a friend for support. Harold did not want another family to be torn apart. “These monsters can assume the form of a human. We cannot trust anyone from the outside world. The gates will remain closed until we are confident that we a free from these vermin. Self-reliance is now a necessity. We cannot ask for help, nor can we offer it. Together we will get through this nightmare.”

Harold hopped down from the platform and rolled his shoulders, which had become increasingly tense. Murderous creatures that could disguise themselves as humans? They could infiltrate their community and then kill everyone. They had proved themselves impossibly strong. This, combined with their sharp shells and plating to shield their vulnerable points, and their lethally sharp pincers meant that they stood little chance of defending themselves. They could take them out if they vastly outnumbered their attackers. But the one that had killed the mayor had murdered nine others before it was subdued. In a town of five hundred citizens, every death was felt keenly. Every death was personal. Sanctuary would cut itself off from the rest of the world. Harold felt no guilt about potentially sacrificing the rest of humanity, especially if it saved his town.

5 years later…

Harold smiled as a group of children ran past the town hall. They shrieked with uninhibited joy and it warmed the cold recesses of his heart. In the five years since he had assumed the position of mayor, he had watched Sanctuary recover from that dark day. However, they had not been free from tragedy. Once every few months, someone would try their luck at the town gates. Harold would order everyone to stand firm and not grant them admittance, no matter how desperately they begged. They always claimed they were seeking refuge but Harold was adamant that it would not be in Sanctuary. Eventually, they would watch as the person gave up and turned away. 

On some occasions, the figure would morph and their bodies would contort until they revealed themselves to be the giant, ferocious beasts. At other times, the figure would stumble away in search of another haven; their clothes were rags, their bodies bruised and battered, and their spirit defeated. Sometimes, however, this forsaken soul would get a short distance from the town when one of the savage creatures would descend upon them. The inhabitants of Sanctuary would watch in morbid fascination as their bodies were torn limb from limb. They would never admit it out loud, but they always felt a guilty sense of relief that it was not them or someone they knew. 

Harold saw Hamish gesture and realised it was time for their daily check of the wall and the town’s fortifications. Harold knew his constant reviewing of the wall might come across as paranoid, but he was taking no chances. In the immediate aftermath of the first attack, he had instructed everyone to extend the height and increase the width of the perimeter wall. No chances.

“It’s getting darker earlier. Makes me nervous,” Hamish shuddered. Previously, he had been unshakeable, but witnessing the death of Aileen had unnerved him. He was almost as on edge as Harold. Almost. 

Circling the town took about two hours. Once they had finished, the sun had begun to set in earnest. Hamish went to find his wife whilst Harold returned home to cook himself some dinner. As he was sitting down to eat, he heard a commotion from the centre of the town. He took a longing glance at his food and then hurried outside to establish what had happened. As he rounded the corned to the plaza he saw that it appeared as though the entire town had congregated around the fountain.

He drew closer and in doing so, heard that everyone was bickering and speaking over each other. The crowd was denser towards the bench and it seemed as though they were huddled around something. 

“Would someone care to explain what on earth is going on?!” Harold bellowed. Several townsfolk flinched in shock and the crowd ceased talking immediately. There was a moment of silence and then a few people began to stutter and attempt to explain. Harold was not listening to them, however. The shock of his shout had caused the group to shift, exposing the bench. Seated at the bench was a woman that Harold had never seen before. He charged forwards, causing the crowd to part as they sought to get out of his way. 

The woman looked up at him, her eyes widening in fear. But she didn’t move away.

“Who are you? How did you get into Sanctuary?!” Harold didn’t care that his town was sharp, nor that his demeanour was hostile. No chances.

When she didn’t say anything, Harold took a step closer and leant his face towards hers. He stared at her searchingly, trying to establish whether there was anything that gave her away as not really human. He couldn’t see anything, but these creatures were skilled.

“I’m sorry Harold. She was out there, sobbing and crying, and…” David stopped talking when he saw the fury on Harold’s face. Harold cocked his eyebrow, daring David to continue. “And she’s pregnant,” he finished, averting his gaze.

“You know our rules, David. You know why they exist. We do not let anyone in. ANYONE. No matter their circumstances. Have you not witnessed enough death at the hands of these creatures over the past five years?” Harold glared around at the assembled crowd. “She cannot stay here. We must throw her out,” he said as he grabbed the woman under her arm and dragged her to standing.

He began to pull her towards the rear gates but some of the townsfolk pulled on his jacket and argued with him to stop.

Harold whipped around and stared furiously at everyone.

“We cannot abandon her to those monsters! She is pregnant. It would be inhuman! We don’t even know if they can imitate pregnancy.” Someone yelled.

“Do you not remember how the blood of their victims flowed through Sanctuary? The ground was stained for a month after.” Another retorted angrily. The arguing restarted. Harold rolled his eyes and then looked up to the heavens, as though asking the gods for help. Would this never end?

“We should let her stay,” a timid voice said from outside the crowd. It was Alexander. The man hadn’t smiled in five years and had barely said a word since that fateful day. “She should be allowed to stay, but she should be locked up and kept under a constant armed guard. Just until we can be sure that she isn’t… that she isn’t one of them.” He spat the last word. Harold looked at the man, weighing up his words and analysing his body language. After a moment, Harold nodded his head.

“If that is what you want and everyone is in agreement?” A murmur of consent rippled through the town. Harold didn’t like it, but it seemed like the most reasonable option given the circumstances. 

…

Harold returned to the town hall two hours later to draft a rota for the guarding of the woman. A group of four had agreed to be the first on watch. Harold had offered to take the first night shift; he trusted himself to stay awake and alert more than he trusted anyone else. He finally ate some dinner before returning to the cell where the woman was being held just before midnight. 

As he was getting himself settled on the cold, hard bench across from the cell, Alexander came through the door. He gave Harold a quick nod and then leant against the wall, fixing a grim stare at the woman.

There was silence for more than an hour, but Harold found his curiosity win out.

“Why did you allow her to stay?” he asked Alexander. The man shrugged and then sighed.

“She reminds me of Aileen,” he said simply. “And I knew Aileen would have my hide if she thought I had left a pregnant woman to die.” Harold supposed that made sense. Having no one left who loved him, the thought was alien to him. He was guided by the needs of the people of Sanctuary; they depended on him to do what was necessary, even if it wasn’t morally right.

The silence crept back in. Harold became aware that the woman in the cell was assessing him. He felt her eyes burning into him. So, he stared back. He unmasked the hatred, the pain, and the fear that he had kept bottled up for five years and allowed them to appear in his eyes. The woman didn’t even flinch. She looked so broken. Harold felt his guard slip and quickly brought to mind that terrible night to retain some emotional distance. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

…

A week passed. The woman still hadn’t spoken a word. Nor had she revealed herself to be one of those monsters. The people of Sanctuary had begun to ask Harold to release her but he remained uncertain. His resolve was wavering, however. How long could these creatures conceal themselves? Surely it became uncomfortable to condense themselves into a human form? Harold hated how little they knew about these hideous demons. He supposed she could be freed from the cell but that the armed guard should remain. A compromise of sorts. Harold’s second compromise in a week. It made him uncomfortable.

He announced his decision at the town meeting that afternoon and asked for people’s thoughts and opinions. Most people agreed with him that it was too soon to trust this stranger completely, but that perhaps there could be an easing of the restrictions. Harold looked to the back corner of the meeting room where Hamish and Alexander were standing. They appeared serious but not angry. He felt like he had their support. He approached them after the conclusion of the meeting.

“I need you to guard her until I can formalise the new arrangements. No mercy. No chances,” Harold emphasised.

“We understand. We won’t let her out of our sight.”

…

Harold awoke suddenly that night. He looked around, uncertain what had dragged him from his slumber. The night seemed quiet but he felt unsettled. To ease his concerns he decided to take a walk around the town to prove with his own eyes that all was well.

Nothing was out of sorts as he approached the plaza. The only sound was that of water flowing from the fountain. He headed north through the town towards where the woman was staying. He saw two shadows outside the house. They must be Alexander and Hamish. For some reason, he felt the dread grow within him. Something felt very wrong. He picked up his pace until he was running.

Both men had their backs to him but they did not turn around at the sound of Harold’s approach. As he reached their sides, he put his hand on Hamish’s right shoulder and then drew back in horror. Hamish’s body slowly collapsed to the ground. Deep cuts crisscrossed his front. They no longer bled as Hamish no longer had enough blood to spill. Harold looked to Alexander and saw an almost identical grisly scene.

Harold staggered backwards, grief choking him. Rage also flooded him. He was angry at the woman, but he was furious with himself. He had failed. He had to find the woman, no, the beast, before anyone else had to suffer.

Then, a metallic screeching filled the night air. Harold felt his whole body go cold. 

The gate was open.