Elena had powers. I had known this fact from the first night we met, but after four months of dating her, I had never cared to learn anything about those powers further than what I already knew. All I knew—all I had ever wanted to know—was that those powers had saved my life. To see Elena and only remember how warm her strong hands were and how her eyes were like hurricanes, a gentle calm caught in the middle of steely gray winds that could tear a man to shreds. To not remember—

My hands were sticky and tacky with blood from the human head in my hands, its eyes unseeing and skin cold. A statue made from flesh and bone and blood and death.

I woke to the rising sun, tangled limbs, and the sound of an opening door. I woke to screamed accusations and threats and doomed efforts to placate, to stave off the inevitable violence. I woke to a woman I did not know who grew, who became so impossibly tall that her long, blond hair scraped the ceiling as she advanced on us.

Elena, my beloved protector, had already escaped her sheet’s snarled clutches while I had watched, the proverbial deer in the headlights, as the unknown woman’s fist reared back. Elena tackled me out of the way, and we crashed on the hardwood floor, the scene of our shared night of passion reduced to pieces of sharp wood, twisted metal, and ruined silk. My shoulder screamed in protest, but Elena’s bellowed, “Run!!” was louder and compelled me to scramble to my feet and book it for the door.

“Traitor! Not just a goddamn dyke, you go and fuck some slant-eyed slut?!”

I had nearly made it to the living room when I heard the snap of wood splintering and Elena roaring, “Duck!!”

I clumsily threw myself to the floor, only just avoiding being impaled by a hurled bedpost that lodged itself in the wall just past me. My landing on the floor was rough, but I happily accepted the trade.

“Allfather will have your heads!”

Rapid snaps of wood were my only warning that the gigantic woman was coming for me. Enormous sheets of metal appeared between us, seemingly hardening out of the air itself, but they barely slowed her down. A fist easily the size of my torso punched a hole straight through, and my world went white.

“You’re a disgrace to your family!” “You disgrace your family!”

Arm. Can’t move. Why? Hurt. Hurts. Move, I need to— I winced, my lip bloody like Father’s ring.

“Don’t make me do this, Heith!” “You make me do this, Junko!”

Wood cold against my skin, slipping away under sticky, spreading heat. Warm spray washing over me, face pressed into cold tile.

“I ask you for one thing! To stand firm and carry on the good name of our family! To take back our city!”

Why does everything hurt so much? Why is he always like this?

A roar of sadness and anger. Silence.

“Alexko, are you listening?!”

“I just want it to stop…” Is that so much to ask?

“Fuck, this is bad! Do you think so little of your future?! We need to get you think we can afford a hospital!”

Heavy, my eyes woke from the dream—nightmare—my arm hot and wet, its skin sticky and tacky. Blood. Blood on me, blood on them. The giant woman’s head faced me, faced us both, unseeing and accusatory.

“Alexko, I’ve got to pick you up.” Elena was upset. Distraught. Everything hurt, was soaked in blood. “This is going to hurt, okay?”

Please, “don’ wanna ‘urt ‘n’more.”

“I’m sorry, but this is for your own good.”

I wept in her arms, and she stepped through broken glass into nothingness.

She kept walking, leaving blades behind.