To understand what was underneath the blanket, one would have to travel back exactly thirty-six minutes before Henrietta's bike landed. It was a warm, sticky night—the sort of night filled with sweat and mosquitoes, keeping many people awake.
Five-year-old Walik Khotswal couldn't sleep. His sister was happily snoring away in the bunk above, while the fan roared in the corner. Normally, Walik would have passed out the second his father turned his nightlight on, but not tonight. Something seemed to be tickling his bare feet even when he hid under the blanket. A cool breath kept blowing on his neck and ears. Mosquitoes buzzed in the shadows.
"Hello, little boy," a voice whispered in the dark. The voice was soft and kind. Like all small children, Walik knew that the darkness was terrible and filled with evil magic. Something was pulling at his Spider-Man blanket, and Walik gripped it harder, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Get up, little boy! It's time to go play," the voice whispered again, and the blanket was violently torn away. His sister was still snoring in her bed, dreaming of glitter unicorns and tornados.
A witch was standing in front of the bunk beds. A terrifying, nightmarish witch with glowing red eyes and the grayish-blue skin of the dead. Hanks of red matted hair fell down her shoulders, and a green cloak was splattered with mud.
Walik opened his mouth to scream, but then suddenly the witch flickered and transformed. Walik's mother was standing before him, one of her arms outstretched, her hospital ID bracelet dangling on her wrist. Mama looked the way she did during Walik's final memories of her. Her face was far too thin, her eyes huge and hungry. The pale green and blue hospital gown contrasted terribly with her favorite deep yellow hijab.
"You're dead," Walik whispered.
"I've come back, just for you, my sweet boy," she whispered, and Walik shivered. Suddenly, as if knowing Walik was doubting her, she waved her hand, and the air filled with the sweet smell of rose water and cardamom. It was the smell of Mama making Sheer Pira in the tiny kitchen.
"Come with me, darling," she smiled as the intoxicating smell overwhelmed Walik. Standing up, Walik took the witch's hand.
A monster stared at Henrietta, a foul fish stink of a beast tangled in Spider-Man sheets. Its lips and nostrils were nothing more than thin slits across its shiny wet grey skin. Its eyes were gigantic black pools that led downwards into infinite nothingness. It was a Changeling. Henrietta had only ever seen a Changeling once before. It was a dissected thing lying on a bench during Toothfairy Biology class. The Changeling was a gnarled, monstrous bundle of sticks and hair with greenish blood smeared on its side. According to Professor Koi, the Changeling had been switched with a baby on a train during a blackout. It had taken almost five years before anyone noticed there was something wrong, and that was only when the Changeling ate an entire live cow during a school trip.
This one was still young and small; this one could easily be killed. Without any hesitation, Henrietta grabbed a pillow and was about to smother the creature when suddenly its mouth snapped open. It stared at Henrietta for a fraction of a second and then screamed, flinging its spindly, stick-like arms around Henrietta's neck. Twig-like wooden teeth tore into Henrietta's shoulder, and she screamed back, smashing the Changeling against the floor.
"Fridge!" Henrietta swore as the Changeling sprang away from her, heading to the open window. Henrietta sprinted across the floor, her heavy boots destroying tiny plastic soldiers, hauling herself over the window frame. Tooth Fairies were rarely trained on how to deal with "hostile entities". Most of the time, they were told to just run away as fast as possible. Henrietta's father, however, insisted the world was full of dangers and that young ladies needed to learn how to take care of themselves. It was Li Han who had taught Henrietta that the key to facing any enemy involved grabbing something heavy and going for the head.
Henrietta fumbled briefly in the dark, her hands closing around a heavy toy truck, and then she hauled herself over the window frame, landing on the Changeling's thin, bony body.
"Oh, you cheeky little bugger!" Henrietta screamed, hitting the creature in the eye with the toy truck. It wasn't a particularly good hit, but in a stroke of fortune, the toy had been made using cheap red-painted stainless steel. If the truck had been made out of iron, the Changeling would have instantly burst into flames. Stainless steel, however, wasn't as strong, and instead, the monster screamed as the truck burned its eyelids. Henrietta hit again and again, pinning her knees on the creature's stomach. The Changeling howled as its eyes exploded. Eventually, the screeches turned into a bubbling, choking sound—and then nothing at all. Henrietta stared at the limp, pitiful creature, reminding herself that technically she hadn't killed anyone. Changelings were mindless. Nothing more than giant Fairy cockroaches.
"You killed my little brother," a small voice said from the open window, and Henrietta spun around. A girl, around eight or nine years old, with long dark hair and pink unicorn pajamas, stared at Henrietta.