Bun screeches with unholy glee as her limbs morph and multiply—six insect legs sprouting where toddler legs should be, skittering across the stone floor at a speed no two-year-old should possess. Her laughter echoes off the cave walls, high and piercing and just a little bit wrong.
Under normal circumstances, I'd be having a freakout over a cute little toddler turning into something adjacent to the most unholy creature on this planet. But my brain's elsewhere.
"Watch it!" Jer shouts as Bun darts between his legs, sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt. "Sara, control your monster!"
Sara doesn't look up from her book. "She's not my monster. She's everyone's monster."
"Then everyone should help!" The younger kid scrambles up, brushing dirt from his shirt.
Ron flips a page, leaning against the far wall. He's reading an old hardback with faded letters, so I have no idea what the story is. "You're the one who gave her sugar."
"I did not!"
