They were nasty, they were ugly, they smelt and, whoever approached them, got a spell.
It was early years, and as they grew, less we saw them. They would hide where nobody could see them. The only knowledge of their presence would be that every so often, objects and food disappeared.
Their path would be scattered with odd foot prints which meant that we knew who had been and gone. Following those days, houses would lookup, girls would be hidden, the whole village would stay at a holt.
They were right to fear…
When the brothers turned 18, the village transformed, as if a spell, the light withdrew, all was dark, and all the children aged over night.
No more kids
No more procreation
Just them, just theirs, monsters of all and eternity
Fenella Bingham
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