A week later, on a flight,
Madison sat beside Henry, her seat slightly turned toward the window while he looked outside at the endless stretch of clouds below.
For a while she had been quiet, but curiosity had been building in her mind ever since she learned the truth about the world Henry lived in.
"So ghosts actually exist?" Madison asked, glancing at him.
Henry didn't turn from the window.
"Yes," he replied calmly.
Madison leaned back in her seat, thinking for a moment before asking the next question.
"Then why hasn't anyone seen them? I mean, we live in the age of the internet. If someone saw a ghost or a werewolf, it would blow up online instantly."
Henry gave a small shrug.
"People do see them."
Madison frowned slightly. "Then what happens?"
Henry finally turned his head and looked at her.
"Most of them die," he said plainly.
Madison blinked at the bluntness of the answer.
"You think normal people can stand against something like that? Ghosts, werewolves, demons… they don't care whether you believe in them or not."
He looked forward again as the plane hummed quietly through the sky.
"Those deaths get written off as something else," he added. "Animal attacks, accidents, missing persons, unexplained incidents."
Madison crossed her arms slowly as the thought settled in.
"So those stories you see on the news… the weird deaths, the ones nobody can explain…"
"Yeah," Henry said. "Those are usually the ones we call freak deaths."
Madison sat quietly for a moment, staring at the seat in front of her while the plane flew through a sea of white clouds.
"So why are we flying all the way from San Francisco to Bridgton, Maine?" Henry asked, looking at her with mild confusion. She had never really explained the reason. She had simply bought the tickets and told him they were going.
Madison smiled when she saw the puzzled look on his face.
"To meet my family."
Henry blinked.
"…Your family?"
Madison nodded, her smile widening slightly.
"Now that you're my boyfriend, you have to meet my family."
Henry leaned back into his seat slowly as the words sank in. The plane engine hummed softly around them while he processed what she had just said.
"That… came a little fast," he muttered. "We've only been together for six days."
Madison shrugged like that detail didn't bother her at all.
"So how many people are there in the family?" Henry asked after a moment, deciding to move the conversation forward.
"Well, I only have one brother," Madison explained. "He settled in Bridgton. He's an artist, and he has a family—my sister-in-law and their son."
Henry nodded thoughtfully.
"So you're an aunt."
Madison immediately turned toward him with a serious face.
"Don't call me that."
Henry looked at her, confused.
"What? Why?"
"Because I'm not old," she said firmly.
Henry raised his hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay… no need to turn into a demon," Henry said, shaking his head slightly. For some reason women always seemed sensitive about their age.
He never really understood it. Just because people tried to pretend otherwise didn't actually change anything.
If someone was middle-aged, they were middle-aged. If someone was old, they were old. It wasn't like reality could be hidden just because nobody wanted to say it out loud.
Yet somehow that topic always managed to irritate people more than it should.
Henry decided it was wiser not to continue that line of thought aloud.
His attention drifted back toward the airplane window.
But a brother… an artist… in Bridgton.
For a moment something about that combination felt strangely familiar.
Why do I feel like I've seen that scene somewhere before? Henry wondered.
He frowned slightly while trying to remember where that feeling came from. His memory stirred faintly, as if a half-forgotten movie scene was trying to surface.
After a few seconds he shook his head.
Nah. It's nothing.
Even if something strange happened in that town, he wasn't exactly worried. For once he was far away from Dean and Sam. Trouble always seemed to follow those two around like a curse.
They're the real trouble magnets, he thought with quiet relief. Not me.
The plane continued flying east.
Far away from the peaceful sky above the aircraft, something else was beginning to move.
Beyond the mountains near a quiet town called Bridgton, a strange mist had started creeping slowly across the forests. At first it looked like nothing more than ordinary fog rolling down the slopes, thick and pale as it slid between the trees.
But the haze wasn't empty.
Deep inside the shifting smoke, shapes moved.
Huge silhouettes drifted silently through the white haze—forms far too large to belong to any normal animal. Now and then long limbs brushed against the treetops, bending branches as something massive passed through the forest.
A distant screech echoed briefly inside the fog before vanishing again.
Then another shape moved—taller this time, walking slowly through the mist on long insect-like legs.
The fog continued rolling steadily toward the town.
"So are vampires handsome like in the movies?" Madison asked.
"No. They're ugly," Henry said. "And they don't have fangs."
Madison frowned. "Then how do they—"
"They have another set of teeth," Henry said. "Rows of them. Like a piranha."
Madison stared at him.
"You're joking."
Henry shook his head.
"Trust me. Movies got it completely wrong."
Madison slowly leaned back in her seat.
"…Okay."
Then after a pause—
"I definitely liked the movie version better."
*****
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