Twilight Beast.

Ella's Point of View.

"Humm," I gasped, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. At seventeen, I had expected to be hunting like the rest of the villagers, not standing here cutting lettuce into tiny pieces.

Every day is the same-cooking, cleaning, gardening. My life feels like it's stuck in a loop, with no change in sight, no adventures beyond the forest's edge that hems in our small village, Small View Town. The excitement of the outside world feels like a distant dream, locked away from me by the rules of this place.

"That's not thin enough," Mrs. Beth's sharp voice cut through my thoughts. She's old, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun, her face lined with the years she's spent as the head cook. Her voice, though, is what really gets me. It's always filled with sarcasm, dripping with the tone that says she doesn't expect much from me.

"You need to know that Mark likes them extra thin," she added, her lips curling into a smirk. "You're turning eighteen next week, and you still can't handle a knife. How on earth do you think you'll be able to hunt those beasts?"

I rolled my eyes as I began recutting the lettuce. I've heard this lecture so many times before. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Beth," I muttered, forcing the words out. Apologizing to her felt as routine as chopping vegetables.

"Good," she replied, not missing a beat. "You have an hour to get all this lettuce done, and we've only got two hours before the hunters return. They'll need a proper meal." She shrugged and turned away, leaving me and Princess alone to finish the work.

"She's a nightmare," Princess whispered, leaning closer. "I'm sure Mark doesn't care about the shape of the lettuce right now."

I couldn't help but scoff. "Yeah, who would believe I'm turning eighteen soon, and I'm still stuck here, cutting lettuce and cooking," I replied bitterly. The sting of it burned in my chest. Eighteen felt like the age when I should be doing more, not less.

Princess smiled softly, trying to lighten my mood. "It's not that bad, Ella."

"That's easy for you to say," I shot back, "since Mark took you hunting the moment you turned fifteen."

"Oh, Ella," she sighed, "you know Mark cares about you. He doesn't want you to get hurt."

"If that's his way of showing he cares, keeping me trapped behind the walls of this village, then it's a very funny way of doing it," I said, bitterness lacing every word. There was nothing Princess could say that would make me feel better. The frustration of being stuck in this endless cycle felt like a weight I couldn't shake.

"Come on, we've got work to do," I said, cutting off any more conversation as we carried the lettuce into the kitchen. Once the pot was filled, we headed outside to the garden, moving to our next chore-tending to the weeds that grew stubbornly against the wooden walls of the village.

The walls were old, built from wooden sticks and covered with creeping vines and flowers that had been there longer than I could remember. Pulling out the weeds was tedious work, but it gave me a chance to be outside, at least for a little while.

The village had strict rules about going beyond the walls. We were only allowed out during the day because the twilight beasts, the creatures we feared most, hated the sun. As long as the sun was up, we were safe, free to move around the village and tend to our chores. But when the sun began to set, everything changed. The beasts came out, and we retreated into the safety of our homes.

As Princess and I battled with the vines clinging to the walls, I looked out over the village I called home.As I scanned the familiar view, something unusual caught my eye. A group of people was approaching from the tree line, their figures blurry against the fading daylight.

I frowned and leaned forward, trying to get a better look. "Look at that," I said to Princess, who was still bent over, plowing the weeds beside me. She didn't glance up, too focused on her task.

"Look up," I urged, my voice sharper now.

Princess straightened, following my gaze. Mark was the first to emerge from the group, an antelope slung over his shoulder. It looked like a normal hunting party returning, but something felt off. Everyone in the village was gathering to welcome them back as usual, but I couldn't shake the strange feeling creeping up my spine.

"Why are they back early?" I asked Princess, who looked as confused as I felt.

"I'm sure it's nothing," she said, but her voice didn't sound convinced.

Mark waved to the villagers, his face hard to read. Mrs. Beth, always the first to greet the hunters, rushed forward. "Mr. Mark, you're back early. Hope all is well," she said, her voice curious but polite.

"Yes, all is well," Mark replied, his expression emotionless, which only made me more uneasy. He didn't meet Mrs. Beth's eyes. "I brought an antelope. Cook it well," he added before walking off without another word.

The night came quickly after that, as it always did in our village. Everyone gathered underground, as we did every evening when the sun set, hiding from the twilight beasts that roamed the night. We ate dinner together in the long tunnel that served as both our dining hall and shelter. Laughter filled the space, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Mark sat across from me, chewing his food in silence. "Very well cooked," he said after swallowing the last bite, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He raised a cup of water and drank deeply. "Thank you, ladies," he said, looking at Princess and me with a brief nod of appreciation.

I smiled faintly, but something about his tone felt strange, hollow.

Then his voice changed, becoming serious. "Ella, I need to speak with you," he said, his face unreadable.

I froze for a moment, exchanging a glance with Princess. Her face reflected the same confusion I felt. What is this about? I asked silently with my eyes, and she shrugged, equally clueless.

I stood up slowly and walked toward Mark, who gestured for me to sit in a chair next to him. I could feel everyone's eyes on us, but the room was too loud with chatter for anyone to overhear our conversation.

"What did you do today?" Mark asked me suddenly, his tone sharp.

I blinked in surprise. "What?"

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What did you do today?"

"You... you said I never talk to you, and now I'm making conversation," he added when I didn't respond quickly enough. His words felt strange, like they were forced.

"I didn't do anything special," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "I did my usual-cooking, gardening."

Mark's face remained serious. "Okay. You can go now, Ella," he said, his voice curt, dismissive.

I hesitated, confused. "Okay..." I stood up, ready to walk away, but I couldn't help myself. I turned back to face him. "Why did you come back early from hunting today?"

Mark's expression darkened for a brief second. "It's nothing," he said, his voice clipped.

"But you never come back early," I countered, trying to press for more.

His jaw tightened. "It's nothing, Ella. Now go." He sounded harsh, and it made my stomach churn.

I hesitated again, frustration building inside me. "I'm turning eighteen in two days. It's only fair you tell me what's going on," I said, feeling braver than I had before.

Mark stood up abruptly, his face hardening into something I didn't recognize. He had never tried to intimidate me before, but I could feel the weight of his gaze now. I didn't flinch. I wouldn't start now.

"We finished early," he said, his voice cold. "Now go."

I nodded, swallowing my anger, and left. Princess was waiting for me outside, her face a mix of curiosity and concern.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"I don't know," I muttered, the unease still gnawing at me.

We walked in silence to our sleeping quarters, a network of small underground rooms where the villagers stayed safe at night. Each family had their own space, and since I didn't have one, I slept alone in a small room. The only person I could have called family was Mark, and he had made me leave his home when I turned ten.

I lay down, staring at the ceiling of my small, dark room, my mind replaying the events of the day. Something was wrong-Mark was hiding something. I could feel it in my bones. But what?

Bang.

The noise jolted me out of my thoughts. I sat up, my heart pounding. "Twilight beasts again," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. But something about this noise felt different, louder, more urgent.

Then I heard footsteps-quick, heavy footsteps-and the banging of doors echoing down the tunnel. My heart raced. I stood up and moved toward the door to see what was happening, but before I could open it, someone yanked it open for me.

"You're still here?" Mark's voice, filled with urgency, startled me.

"Yes, what's going on?" I asked, but before he could answer, a loud growl echoed through the tunnels.

"That... that wasn't normal," I said, my voice shaky.

Mark's face was tense, his eyes dark. "Don't leave this room, no matter what you hear, okay?" His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

"Mark-" I began, but he cut me off.

"I said don't leave this room until I come for you!" he yelled, his voice booming in the small space.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone with the sound of my own racing heart. My legs felt like they were made of lead as I backed away from the door, staring at it as though it would open at any second.

The night had broken into the underground.

And so had those that owned it.