As a child I stopped leaves from dancing in the wind, and used their kinetic energy to make clouds bounce and flit in the sky. But what I did just now was different. It was human energy. And I have never felt so dark in my life.

I wipe my brow with the back of my hand. The folklore that I grew up hearing from friends and teachers was that churails are hideous women who disguise themselves as young attractive maidens and lurk in graveyards and dark allies looking for men to seduce. After that, they drain their blood and kill them. I pray every night that that’s not my destiny.