I’ve been to the TNT area at night, and I know how quiet it is. But this is too quiet. An apprehensive quiet.

  I floated, silently, above the trees, keeping my wings close to my body, weaving through branches. Like a hawk, searching for life below. The old munitions bunkers rose from the earth, burial mounds, their entrances yawned black, open mouths, hungry.

  Then I heard an echo from the darkness.

  A laugh. Soft. Wrong. Like something practicing how to sound human gave up halfway through, decided it didn’t care.

  I stepped into the clearing.

  With him.

  Indrid Cold stood surrounded by a halo of rain, his crooked grin stapled to his face. Everything about him, wrong. Wrinkle-free suit, polished shoes even though it had been raining for hours. No footsteps marked the ground where he stood.

  “Mothman,” he said like an old friend.

  “Indrid,” I replied like we weren’t.

  He tilted his head, slightly, back and forth. As though listening to music that only he could hear.

  “My, my, such a stubborn creature, aren’t we? You’re still trying to save them, even though they hate you? How long must we play martyr, hmm?”

  His voice sounded smooth, almost soothing, except for the hollow tone behind his words.

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  “Tell me, do you even think they want you here?” he asked.

  “Do you think they want you?” I said.

  “Tch, tch, don’t make this about me, monster,” he said, drawing out the last word. “That’s how they see you: boogyman. Think they’ll ever thank you? Say you pull some drowning kid from the river. Think they’ll call you ‘hero’? Heh.”

  He didn’t move, yet somehow I felt him closer.

  “The second you bring that drown brat on shore, the instant he’s rescued, it’s ‘Mommy, save me from the monster!’” He threw his head back and laughed.

  “You’re the real monster,” I said.

  And he stopped laughing, his voice serious.

  “Oh? You’re telling me?” His grin remained, but his eyes sharpened. “I already know… and soon, they will too. They’ll know and they’ll fear me, and the more they fear, the stronger I’ll be!”

  I moved, fast. In half a second my talons were at his face.

  But he was already somewhere else, laughing.

  “Tsk, tsk,” he chided. “Too slow, Mothman! And you’re looking in the wrong direction! You’d better hurry… if you’re going to save all the children from drowning!”

  I heard Cold’s laughter all around me, but I ignored it. I turned away from the TNT area and my gaze locked on Point Pleasant.

  My stomach dropped as my eyes settled on the city, the Christmas lights blinked in time with the headlights and flashing traffic signals – lead to the epicenter of it all.

  The Silver Bridge.

  And at its center, a storm waited to break.

  I cursed myself, took to the air, flying as fast as my wings allowed towards the Ohio River. Below me, I could see Point Pleasant, my city, lying like a sleeping child waiting for Santa.

  How could I have been so stupid to fall for his bait? Of course he wanted witnesses to see him in the TNT area! He planned to draw me away from the city.

  I needed to be smarter than him.

  This city and its people were everything to me. In a world of connections, friends, and acquaintances, they’re all I have. And I'll fight for them. But it’s not enough. I’m not enough.

  Cold was like a disease, preying on superstition and fear. This town needed a real protector, it deserves one.

  But all it has is a Mothman.