Sofia

I expected the day to be no different than usual when I woke up on the edge of my mattress, under the threadbare blanket. The cuffs on the walls were all too familiar, as was the shabbiness of the few items carefully set in their places. But as miserable as it was to look at, I'd prefer to stay in the unkempt little room than face what was outside of it.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of doing that. I swung my legs down to the floor and quickly dressed. I wasn't fast enough.

"Sofia!" the harping screech of my name echoed from below. Not wasting time, I hurried down before she had a chance to get even angrier with me. I rushed through my door, down the hall, and down the stairs.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, Mrs. Lyndon was already in there, starting breakfast. One glance at her slightly greying brown hair and pinched face was enough to show what a bad mood she was in, which never boded well for me. I hurried to help her, hoping that I would not get in too much trouble for not making it down first.

Apologies wouldn't help me if she was already worked up, so my best bet was to keep busy and hope she got sidetracked out of her mood. I kept my head down as I began chopping vegetables for the omelets. She cast me a dirty look which I studiously pretended not to notice.

Twenty minutes later, breakfast was ready and I brought everything out to serve the family. Mrs. Lyndon took her place at the opposite end of the table from her husband. Their youngest son Jesse, was off on some hunter business, and it was unfortunate that he hadn't taken his older brother, jasper, along with him, because jasper looked me over in a way that made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I hurried back into the kitchen to get away before he could say anything. Or try anything.

He lingered in my mind like a difficult stain as I quickly ate a small portion of the food, enough to keep me going, but not enough to draw Mrs. Lyndon ire. Brown haired and square jawed with dark brown eyes, jasper was a couple of years older than me and he had been cruel to me as far back as Icould remember. He had always enjoyed putting me down or lording it over me, but the last couple of years he had been getting more personal than I was happy to tolerate. It was one thing if he said unpleasant things or hit me, it was another thing, a much worse thing, when he let those creepy, hooded eyes wander over me like a threat that I didn't really understand but instinctively knew to fear.

I hated it when he did that.

I hated him.

I hated all of them.

Maybe, I even hated myself.

The Lyndon family were hunters of the supernatural, the group of extraordinary humans who stood between humanity and the monsters lurking in the darkness beyond the light of civilization. Growing up as an orphan in their midst, I had heard all the stories of the glory and power of the hunters, and I could easily recite the impressive tales from memory.

My own experience had been less glorious. The Lyndons had taken me in as a toddler, mistreated me as an unpaid servant as they allegedly raised me beside their sons, and none of the other hunters had ever lifted even a finger to intervene in my miserable existence.

How could the hunters protect the world from supernatural when they could not even protect me from the cold monsters in their midst?

Three times already I had tried to run away and leave the hunter life behind me, but each time I had been brought back to 'safety' and had been severely punished for daring to try to find my way to freedom.

I started washing the dishes.

"Sofia."

I glanced towards the sound of my name. Mrs. Lyndon had a scowl etched across her thin face, the cruel eyes narrowed as she glared at me. not a good sign.

I tried to shrink down and look pitiful. It was easy, because after years of this misery I could not help but fear her when she got in a mood. Although my pathetic posture did not seem to have any effect on lessening my punishment, past experience taught me that any show of pride would be met with and attempt to break it