setting: victorian times.
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"Father," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looked up from writing a letter on his desk and saw the fear in my eyes. He saw me on the verge of tears, backed up to the door holding the knob.
His eyebrows furrowed as he put down his pen. "Ella what's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked.
I shook my head. Hot tears started falling down my face. Slowly I asked him a question.
"Father, are you a murderer? "
He got up from his desk, but I took a step back. I was scared.
His eyes were sad. "Oh, Ella... you finally found out about my job didn't you? When you were outside in the hallway, you heard..."
"The boy's screams. And the blood on y-you. You killed a innocent boy. Why would you d-do that?" I sobbed.
Father stayed standing on his desk and put a hand on his heart. "Ella... you're a big girl now, almost 10. My little angel." He smiled. Then his smile slowly faded. He sighed. "It's time I tell you my real job. You can stay there or leave, but," he looked me straight in the eye, "know that I would never, ever, no matter what, harm my daughter."
I let go of the door knob and wiped my tears. I stayed where I was, scared of what he had to say.
He sighed, but it was a tired sigh. He didn't make eye contact as he spoke. He just looked at the window, at the moon. "Ella, for your whole life, all you've known is that I work as a doctor in a 'special' hospital. It is true that I work at a special hospital, b-but... it isn't what you expect."
The light from the fireplace gave a warm glow to his cold blank face. He looked at his desk.
"Honey, you know about demons, right? That old mythical creature in stories?" he asked.
I nodded my head, but he didn't look at me. He knew that I knew. From the stories around the town.
"W-well... us humans can only do so much. Us humans love the joy and happiness and sunshine and... all of those things." He smiled a small smile, then his face went blank again. He looked down on the floor. "Some humans... struggle with those things. Struggle with happiness. They only see the darker things. The bad things. And sometimes... when they only see those bad things and only feel bad things... they become a bad thing."
"What do you mean?" I asked. I walked closer to him, tilting my head in curiosity.
"It's slow at first. They feel ill, as if they had gotten the flu. Then they um... do things. Bad things. They'll say things. Soon their skin starts losing color, and their eyes slowly turn white, all the color fading. And then... their teeth are sharp, their voice an endless scream, and they are... a demon."
No words are said. I am too speechless, and my father is too traumatized for words.
"And your job?" I ask quietly.
"People report this to the hospital, the hospital I work at. A-and um... our doctors try the best they can. There's still research going on finding an official treatment, but as for now... they're trying their best. And when they don't make it Ella... I-I um..."
He turned around and put his hands to his face. He was wiping away tears.
"You step in. You... you end them."
He stood quietly. Then I heard a sob. And another.
"I-It's a long story why I took this job and, and I promise you it kills me every time I've done so. I-I, please forgive me-"
I cut him off and hugged him. He hugged me back and got down on his knee, sobbing into my shoulder. He whispered "I'm sorry..."
His whispers were the only sound. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"Father, you aren't a monster. You have good in your heart I promise you."
"B-But all the people we've lost to this..."
"It doesn't matter." I looked him in the eyes. "We know who they truly are, and we hold on to that memory. We have to hold on to the good things, the bright things, to hold on to the ones we love."
His crying slowed down, and he hugged me again. And for a while, we just sat there, holding on.
"Ella, I love you so much."
"And I love you more."
