Cardiff, Wales
1901

A fog had rolled in on the city. It was a fog that lingered both in the streets and in the minds of the people who dared venture outside the protection of their homes. It was a bitterly cold October night yet one such person who braved the elements was Jeremy Statham. His thick coat hugged his torso tightly but swayed with each step the nearer to his feet it got. The rain soaked cobbled road seemed to crunch under his smartly polished leather shoes with each step they took. A top hat did little to improve his comfort only serving to keep the draft off his forehead.

Statham was no stranger to discomfort. He had served in the Royal Navy for seventeen years and had sailed some of the cruellest seas that God had decided to pattern three quarters of the Earth with. The Welsh night was amicable by comparison to sailing around the Cape of Good Hope, a place that earned its name by being so treacherous that one almost had to pray for permission to live through the journey. No; the unfriendly night was not as harsh to him as it was to even those who had lived in the gloomy city all their lives.

In truth he was more concerned by some of the attention he was receiving from the local population. He had made the mistake of dressing too smartly for this part of the city for it was one of the poorer areas to live in. Squalor was as rampant as the Rats that dashed about the cobbled street as freely as the fog and with that came crime. Statham was a tough man to be sure but no man is tough enough to survive being shot in the chest by a clandestinely produced revolver. His beady eyes raced around his surroundings keeping track of all those who were keeping track of him but fortunately none of them seemed interested in attacking him. At least not yet.

He suddenly ground to a halt. Almost without noticing it the fog had enveloped him to such an extent that he could no longer see the empty shops lining the street on which he walked even though they were less than fifteen yards to his left and right. It was strange. Uncanny. Not normal. His ears seemed to sharpen in sensitivity and almost seemed to twitch as if the air pressure around him was momentarily disturbed. At first he wondered if he imagined it but then the fog ahead of him began to twist and turn as if it were being sucked by some invisible and silent force. It opened up ahead of him to reveal the figure of a young girl.

His eyes focused on her in the dim light. He could make out that she must not have been no more than nine years old. She stood in front of him with her head bowed solemnly as if she were in prayer but her hands dangled almost lifelessly by her sides. She wore a tattered and dirty looking dress that looked as though she had been pulled through the River Taff but by stark contrast a bright blue ribbon sat in her jet black matted and twisted hair. Unlike her dress it was obviously new and made of quality material. Silk perhaps but he could not be sure without closer inspection.

"Who are you, child?" he asked with his strong voice whose once Welsh accent had become muddled over the years from spending so much time with the English gentry that made up the officer ranks of the Royal Navy. She did not answer. In fact she did nothing to acknowledge him. "Are you hard of hearing, child? I asked you what your name was."

"Are you..him?" she asked with a sheepish voice all the while her head keeping bowed.

"What an odd question for a child to ask a stranger," toyed Statham.

"I am waiting for him. I'm supposed to meet him here. Are you him?"

The corners of Statham's lips, which had curled in minor amusement at the child's first question, straightened. His eyes narrowed and his face stiffened.

"Yes," he said. "I am the one you have been waiting for, child."

The girl suddenly fell to her knees. Statham fought the natural instinct to reach out for her as anyone would to see a child fall but he knew better than that. He began to unbutton his jacket before reaching inside it for the dagger he kept holstered in a special pocket he had sown especially for the purpose of carrying it. It was no ordinary dagger. The edges of the blade were dotted with small holes just bigger than a pinhead and on the smartly polished silver handle was a small button that he was careful not to accidentally thumb when reaching for it.

The girl's right shoulder jerked violently. Then her left one performed a similar motion. Statham took several careful steps backwards. He wanted to attack now but he knew it would be unwise. It was at this point these creatures were at their most dangerous.

Suddenly he heard a ripping sound. The back of the child's filthy dress began to slowly tear open. Then in one big movement two enormous Bat's wings unfurled and hung over the girl who was still twitching. He knew he still had to wait. The transformation was now in full swing. Her body would be full of the energy they use to achieve this transformation making them quicker than they would be in either their pure Human or Demon form. Her fingers began twitching rapidly. Then one by one they began to stretch outwards increasing in length to almost twice their normal size.

She bent forwards making a sound that resembled that of a person choking. She then lifted her head and for the first time he saw her face. He knew that she had been a pretty child but those pretty features were twisted and distorted cruelly. Her eyes were red from the blood that was seeping from them and falling down her pale white cheeks as though she were crying blood. Her mouth began to open. It opened up to the full extent he expected a child of her size could achieve but it didn't stop there. A cracking sound filled the air as her jaw broke away from her skull and continued to lower until it hung three times lower than normal, the skin around her cheeks stretching grotesquely to accommodate the change. Finally, four fangs more akin to that of a Tiger, burst through her gums ejecting the Human teeth that were originally placed there. The transformation was complete.

Taking advantage of the momentary confusion she was no doubt experiencing, he dived forwards the dagger in his hand and poised to strike. The girl rose to her feet to meet her attacker. Her wings flapped once beating the air with a heavy thud and lifting her up off the ground launching her at his head. He ducked instinctively underneath her as she passed over him, knocking the top hat from his crown. He threw the dagger upwards hoping to strike his target but only managed to graze her right wing causing her to give out a horrifying shriek.

He spun around but found she had disappeared back in to the fog. Feeling like a trapped animal his senses were now razor sharp. He could still hear her wings beating away around him but he couldn't make out from where, the sound being distorted by the buildings and the heavy winter air. She was circling him and he knew it. She was the predator and he was the prey. He turned on the spot trying to locate her with the dagger still in his hand ready to strike, its blade already blooded from the slight wound he had inflicted upon her.

"Where are you?" he uttered under his breath.

As he made his third defensive rotation he spied a figure approaching quickly. With the adrenalin flowing he wasted no time in attacking, plunging the dagger towards the target at a sharp and downwards angle.

"No!" yelled a man's voice which miraculously saved his life as it was enough to stop Statham's almost hell-bent attack. With the dagger still hovering beside his head the man stood trembling with fear. "P-P-Please, don't hurt me. Take my money. I have a family."

"Sir!" said Statham withdrawing the dagger, "get out of here now. It is not safe."

The man, too terrified to move and still preoccupied with the weapon in Statham's hand, failed to register neither the warning nor that Statham was no threat to him. Realizing this Statham pushed the man on his right shoulder shaking him awake. "Go!" The man tumbled backwards and then turned to run away.

The night air rang out with a devilish high pitched shriek and the frenzied beating of wings. The demonic girl swooped on the man from the cover of the fog and Statham could do little except watch as she landed on his chest before biting down on his face with her savage fangs. The man gave out a gargled scream as the blood from his wound poured down his throat effectively drowning him. Realizing he was not Statham the demonic girl released him and he stumbled on to the road to die the horrific death that fate had decided was for him.

Once again Statham made for the girl with the dagger. The girl too rushed for Statham with her wings outspread and her unnaturally wide mouth opened to full length displaying her horrific fangs that were now stained pink with the man's blood. The two of them crashed into one another like charging Rhinos but it was Statham who came off worst for despite the petite size of the girl whose body had become possessed by Demon blood she was now incredibly strong and fast. The impact sent Statham hurtling backwards off his feet, landing hard on the cobbled road but he had maintained his grip on the dagger knowing he had only seconds to defeat her.

She beat her wings in one more, heavy thud and she launched upwards before swooping down on him with her elongated fingers outstretched for him. He aimed for her exposed chest and as she landed on him he thrust the dagger deep into her chest where her Human heart was still located. The demon child shrieked loudly but it was not enough to kill her and so Statham pushed the button on the side of the dagger.

The button released the poison located in the silver handle which went squirting out through the hundreds of tiny holes around the edge of the blade that was now firmly embedded in the girl's body. The moment the poison made contact with her Demonic blood she knew she was dead. She tried to claw Statham but the pain was intolerable and she only managed to fidget slightly before the poison took hold of every part of her and she went limp before finally dying.

He pushed the body of the creature off and it landed with a heavy thud on the cobbles only a few feet away from the body of the man who had the misfortune to stumble upon the scene. He clambered onto his feet shaking from the adrenalin before checking himself over to see if he had been wounded. Once he was sure he was in perfect health despite the attack he reached down and pulled the dagger from out of the demon child's chest, cleaning the creature's blood from the blade with her dress.

"I'm sorry," he uttered to her pathetically knowing that she was as much a victim as the man laying a few feet away.