Isaac's face turned pale as parchment the moment understanding struck him. That voice, no matter how carefully shaped, no matter how closely it mimicked a human tone, was not human. It came from something else entirely. A wicked thing that understood humanity far too well, a creature that had learned the cruelest trick of survival: that humans were easiest to lure when they believed they were being called by someone they loved. It borrowed familiar sounds, familiar warmth, all to coax its prey closer, to make them step forward willingly toward the truth that awaited them, a drooling, starving monster.
"Run," Isaac whispered at once, the word forced through clenched teeth.
Then he snapped around, his voice tearing through the air as panic sharpened it into command. "RUN!"
