I aimed my shotgun at the sleeping man. Using guns and slipping into a home always came easy to me. I've never been afraid of getting caught.

I've been imprisoned before and adapted. Thrived.

I learned how to hunt monsters.

They look like us, but there's something else beneath the skin, a dormant predator waiting to strike. He's not the only one. I've had practice. I'm page twenty in the photo album in his safe, the one full of scared boys.

Seconds from now, I will pull the trigger. He'll wake up right before a bright thunder obliterates his skull.