["Let go of me, brat! I said let go, damn it!"]
["NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"]
The girl hasn't let go of me since she found out I was leaving. She's hanging from my arm as if it were her favorite pillow.
["Bring back beer, okay?"]
["SISTEEEEEEEEEEER!"]
["I mean… don't go, okay? Stay… But if you still insist… make it quality beer, understand?"]
["If you want your damn beer, do something about your sister."]
["NOOOOOOO!"]
["Little sister, he's just going to get some beers…"]
["Sister, shut up."]
["Hiii…"]
…This brat is scarier than she looks.
["Listen, brat, I'll bring something back for you too. Just ask."]
["I don't want… sniff… I don't want you to go…"]
Tch. Why are you crying? I'm terrible with people who cry in front of me.
She's trembling, stuck to me like a tick.
I shoot her sister a look for help, but she just looks away as if the ceiling is fascinating.
["Brat… I have a favor to repay. I have to go."]
["In a school full of those things, she's already dead… The dead don't collect favors."]
…She has a point. No! Don't fall for her tears, me.
["L-little sister… Don't say that. That guy is a bad influence on you."]
["Sister, SHUT UP."]
Why does it always end up like this…?
["For your information, we rat kids don't die. Much less to inferior creatures like those."]
Normally I'd push her away, but I have a weakness for crying girls. Did she discover my weak point?
["She's right, little sister. A bad weed never dies."]
["UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"]
...
Impossible to convince her. She cried for two hours until she fell asleep, clinging to my chest.
["I can't believe she fell asleep crying on you…"]
["I can't believe that instead of controlling your sister, you're lecturing me. Thanks to this, I'll be spending the night outside in the best-case scenario."]
["Why would it be my fault? I'm surprised you didn't just throw her off. Are you weak to crying girls… or have you already grown fond of my little sister? Pfft… huhuhu."]
["Vixens without a shield should talk less."]
["Kuuu…"]
When I remind her that her body belongs to me, she backs off.
["Fine. I'm leaving."]
I take the harpoon gun from the closet and the air rifle.
["Wait… why do you have those things?"]
["And why not? What self-respecting man doesn't own a harpoon gun? Hello?"]
["Haaa… I give up. Bring back the beer and don't die. If you do, Alicia won't forgive me… and neither will I."]
["I don't give a damn. Zeus, watch the house and the brat. And don't let the vixen rape you; she might have something weird."]
Woof.
["And have him watch over me too, you idiot! …And see if you can bring me something decent too, not just sweets for her."]
With Zeus's bark and that not-at-all-jealous comment (yeah, right), I close the door. The expedition begins.
......…
----- Third-Person Point of View ------------
Nearly two hours had passed since Astrad's departure, and the house remained in a tense silence.
Alicia was still on the sofa, hugging her knees, her eyes swollen from crying.
Carolain remained seated beside her, feigning a calm she didn't feel as she continued to skim through every monster journal entry she could.
She didn't know if the journal was a compendium of genius or the ravings of a madman. In truth, it didn't matter. It was a map in the middle of a signless hell, and for now, it was the only one they had.
That was why Carolain set herself the task of superficially learning about as many monsters as possible, especially the urban types, in order to study them more deeply later.
After all, she had someone she wanted to protect, and anything that contributed to her goal, however small, would be welcome.
["He'll be back,"] —Carolain said in a dry tone after a long time, her eyes tired from her incessant reading.
["He shouldn't have gone…"] —Alicia whispered.
["That idiot always does what he wants. But he knows how to take care of himself."]
"Grrr…"
The conversation was cut short by Zeus's deep growl. His fixed gaze was aimed at the dark hallway. In the tense silence, the sisters followed his line of sight.
"Flick... flick..."
Suddenly, the lightbulb flickered.
In the doorway, something dark appeared, like a patch of shadow that was too dense, too self-aware. A thin, long figure, with arms that nearly touched the floor.
Alicia trembled.
["Sister… it's not my imagination…"]
["No, damn it,"] —Carolain muttered, gritting her teeth—. ["Astrad, you leave for beer and the house gets infested."]
The shape slid forward a little more. Its face was a hollow of gloom.
Carolain looked at the scene and narrowed her eyes.
(The last time the light flickered, it turned out it was because the bastard didn't like it.)
She remembered the Alba Ambulatis and Astrad's warnings. --- if the critter has that look that makes you say "this one probably has the shadow attribute," run towards the light without a second thought.)
["Listen, when I say three, you run to the kitchen. The light is stronger there,"] —Carolain said. She grabbed a broom, her grip so white her knuckles looked ready to break the wood. Shit, shit, shit, she thought, what would that idiot do? The answer was simple: complain, and then act.
["And you?"]
["I'm right behind you. Let me be the strong one this time."]
Alicia nodded fearfully.
["One… two… THREE!"]
They ran. The being stirred, but as it crossed the illuminated threshold of the kitchen, it dissolved like smoke, leaving only an empty doorway. Alicia hugged her sister, crying.
["See? Everything's under control,"] —Carolain said, though her own body wouldn't stop shaking.
["You're like Astrad…"] —Alicia whispered.
The phrase stung her like a needle. She just held her tighter, not answering.
--------------------
(Note: The following monster profile is identical to the one provided in a previous chapter and has been reproduced here for consistency.)
JOURNAL ENTRY NO: 238
SCIENTIFIC NAME: Umbrae liminaris
REGIONAL ALIASES:
Latin American Folklore: El Mirón del Umbral (The Threshold Watcher)
Urban Legend (USA): The Doorway Man
Paranormalists (Pre-Apocalypse): Class II Shadow People
NICKNAME (ASTRAD): Burnt-Out Lightbulb Parasites
📊 THREAT ASSESSMENT
CLASSIFICATION: PARASITUS
The parasite par excellence, but instead of sucking your blood, it feeds on your peace of mind. It doesn't infest your body, it infests your house and your head. It's a psychic leech that thrives on misery and poor lighting, a true emotional vampire with delusions of being a specter.
DANGER LEVEL: GREEN (1 star)
1 star, and I'm being generous. This thing can't physically harm you. Its only 'weapon' is making your hair stand on end until you have a heart attack from your own fear. It's less dangerous than a frayed wire. Its biggest threat is what it makes you spend on your electricity bill.
AGGRESSIVENESS LEVEL: REACTIVE
Its aggressiveness is a feedback loop of cosmic pathos. It does nothing until you do something (scare yourself shitless). It reacts to your panic. The more scared you get, the more 'present' it becomes. If you ignore it, it's like a bad actor on an empty stage: eventually, it leaves out of sheer embarrassment.
🧬 COMBAT FILE (TL;DR)
TYPE: Spectral / Humanoid
AFFINITY: Shadow / Psychic
🎯 PRIMARY WEAKNESSES:
Direct, intense light (dissolves it), Presence of domestic animals (repels them), Absence of fear ("starves" it).
📌 KEY STRENGTHS:
Absolute stealth, Intangibility (cannot be hit), Passive psychological warfare, Undetectable by technology.
📚 ORIGINS AND COMPARATIVE MYTHOLOGY
Internet Culture (Pre-Apocalypse): They are the real explanation behind the "Shadow People" and "Hat Man" phenomena that thousands of people claimed to see in their peripheral vision during sleep paralysis episodes. They weren't hallucinations.
Roman Folklore: They resemble a corrupted version of the Lares, the guardian spirits of the home. While a Lar protected the house, an Umbrae liminaris infests it, feeding on the family's peace instead of preserving it.
Modern Psychology: Some theorists believed they were physical manifestations of scopophobia (fear of being watched). The truth is the other way around: scopophobia is an evolutionary instinct to detect them.
Astrad's Analysis: People invent demons, ghosts of their great-great-grandmother, and portals to other dimensions to explain why they're scared shitless in their own hallway at 3 AM. It's much simpler: they're pests. They're the cockroaches of the ethereal plane. They live off your emotional filth.
📝 DETAILED ANALYSIS
PHYSICAL AND SENSORIAL DESCRIPTION:
The creature is a two-dimensional humanoid silhouette, thin as tissue paper and a light-absorbing shade of black. It clings to shadows cast on the boundaries of a space: doorways, corners, under beds, or inside slightly ajar closets. It lacks features, except for a void in the facial area that reflects nothing and seems to inhale the light and sound around it. It doesn't move fluidly but "jumps" between compatible shadows when no one is looking directly. Its presence subtly chills the air and causes electrical devices to flicker due to the low-level interference it generates.
BEHAVIOR AND ECOLOGY:
It is an environmental parasite. It thrives in places with poor lighting, emotional tension, and stagnant routines. It rarely attacks; its feeding method is passive. It exudes a low-level psychic frequency that erodes calm, generating anxiety and a persistent feeling of being watched. It feeds on these emotions like a plant on sunlight. If ignored or not feared, it weakens and eventually "migrates" to a more suitable location. Domestic animals, especially dogs and cats, are extremely sensitive to its presence, and their natural hostility is usually enough to keep it at bay, creating a territorial barrier the creature will not cross.
☣️ PROTOCOLS
RECOMMENDED ENCOUNTER PROTOCOL:
DO: Maintain strong, constant lighting in rooms. Adopt a dog or a cat. Trust your animals' instincts blindly; if they growl at an empty corner, light it up. Ventilate and "change the air" in enclosed spaces.
DON'T: Live in near-darkness to "save energy." Ignore your pet's growling. Assume that figure you saw out of the corner of your eye was "just your imagination."
FIELD REPORT (Note found in a survivor's diary in Caracas):
"I hadn't slept well for three weeks. I always felt like someone was watching me from the bedroom door. I thought it was stress. Last night, 'Lucas,' my dog, stood in front of the door and didn't stop growling all night. This morning, exhausted, I decided to listen to him. I didn't pray, I didn't burn sage. I went to the storage room, got one of the LED floodlights we use for the perimeter, and aimed it down the hall. I left it on all day. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, the house feels... empty. Lucas is sleeping at my feet. Sometimes the solution isn't an exorcism, it's changing a lightbulb."
🎤 ASTRAD'S NOTES (THE ONLY SHIT THAT MATTERS):
"Umbrae liminaris." Sounds elegant, right? Like the name of an expensive perfume a gothic ghost would wear. But no, what we have here are squatters from the great beyond. Burnt-out lightbulb parasites. The only monster you can defeat by paying your electricity bill.
They don't want to eat you, they don't want to drag you to hell. They just want to feed on your anxiety like an emotional vampire with agoraphobia. They're a DoT (Damage over Time) to your mental health. They don't kill you in one hit, they lower your 'sanity' bar one pixel a day until you start talking to toasters.
And people? They pull out crucifixes, holy water, try rituals they saw in a bad movie. Idiots! The deadliest weapon against these peeping toms is a happy Golden Retriever or a tactical flashlight with 2000 lumens. Existential dread fades pretty quickly when you point the equivalent of a small sun in its face. They're proof that not all apocalypse problems are solved with a shotgun. Some are solved with a good electrician.
< Chat Channel: #Rat_Kid_Network >
After things calmed down, Carolain opened the network from her phone.
VixenBigSister (temporary access)
(This damn brat really gave me this username…)
Carolain was indignant, but she took a deep breath.
She couldn't help but notice how her tension quickly subsided just by seeing the nickname Astrad had left for her.
(I'm going crazy too…)
VixenBigSister (temporary access): Sighting of Umbrae liminaris confirmed. Inside the house. Strong light disperses it. Zeus saw it first.
RatKid3: Good report. They're not lethal, but don't underestimate them. Keep the lights on. PS: that Zeus is a good dog.
RatKid2: LOL, have you tried a garlic crucifix and AA batteries yet? Nah, seriously, change the bulbs. Those critters love loose lightbulbs.
RatKid7: You two alone with that thing in the house? Stay near the kitchen, they tend to be weaker there. And you, "VixenBigSister," don't try to act brave with a broomstick, or we'll have to send flowers later.
RatKid4: LOL, nice one. Breaking records: first official report using a broom as a weapon. You've earned the title of "Janitorial Huntress."
Carolain pressed her lips together. (Idiots,) - she thought.
LittleSister (Alicia): It's not a joke. It was real. Zeus saw it and chased it. We hid in the kitchen and it left.
There were a few seconds of digital silence. Then, the tone of the chat changed completely.
RatKid2: Easy there, little sister. You're now part of the glorious sect of the invincible. None of us die easy here, even though Astrad always acts like he's immortal. You can count on us.
Carolain reread RK2's message. Then RK7's, which came after. The same guys who had called her "Janitorial Huntress" were now treating Alicia with kid gloves? The hypocrisy was so blatant that, for a second, she didn't know whether to laugh or get angry.
RatKid7: Don't scare her, damn it. Welcome, sister. Don't be ashamed to cry a little, girls have that right.
VixenBigSister: …Hello? Am I reading this too? Or am I invisible?
RatKid3: Oh, right, the big vixen. Welcome too, I guess. But don't act so tough. Believe it or not, Rat Leader is overprotective.
Alicia: Don't make fun of my sister! …She worries a lot too, even if she doesn't say it.
RatKid3: LOL, here comes the official defender. Brat, I like you. You can stay. Let your sister go crazy trying to control you both.
Alicia let out a shy laugh, something that hadn't come so naturally to her in a while. Carolain glanced at her, with a mix of relief and a small sting of jealousy.
["Great…"] —she muttered to herself—, ["now I'm being replaced by a horde of rat kids, too."]
["It's not that… It's just that they're not bad people…"] —Alicia replied softly, with a smile.
"Woof."
Zeus barked once, as if ending the conversation.