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The pain was too much. Her darling babies were all gone, every single one of them. Five, five innocent children were taken from her for no apparent reason. The grief was destroying her, their little faces taunting her and asking why she wasn’t home to save them.

Her oldest, only nine, had put up a fight. The police didn’t need to tell her that, she could see it from the way she had found him. He was so brave, trying to protect his little sisters after the babysitter turned into a killer.

Oh how she had failed them, leaving them in the clutches of a murderer so that she could go out with a friends. She should have just stayed home, should have protected her little ones. All she had now were pictures and blood stains that she couldn’t bring herself to clean. Their toys and clothes remained as they left them but the house seemed so empty without the pounding of children running and their infectious laughter.

Sitting on the porch swing in the front, her tears fell freely onto the last picture she had of all five of them together. It was right after her husband had disappeared on them. They hadn’t understood what had happened but the smiles on their little cherub faces were no less wide and no less loving than before.

The wood of the frame cut deep into her hands as she gripped the picture. Just across the street were two toddlers running about without a care in the world. It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to lose all of her beloved children? Why was her happiness to be crushed? She would never find the same peace in her lifetime, not without her babies.

And why was she the only who had to suffer?

Watching the smiling faces of the parents and their little toddlers from across the street, her entire body felt alive with electricity. Jealously and fury began to warm her body the longer she watched them. Why couldn’t she have that happiness again? To watch her girls play in the yard and keep her boy from being too rough; it was all she wanted back.

If she couldn’t have it, then no one should be able to. They’d be the first to share her pain. She’d devour their happiness.

Within the grieving mother, a switch flipped. Such grief over the loss of a child and the dark thoughts that were plaguing her had drawn dark powers to her. There was a part of her that became less and less human as she began to devour the children of others. No one could have what she couldn’t.

It was weeks later when she looked into a mirror again. Her features had become sharper, more alluring to adults and children alike. The changes in her body and soul would have alarmed her at one point but she could only smile as she stared into her own snake like eyes. It wasn’t a warm or friendly smile; it was one of dark celebration. Her misery was being spread and she was only growing stronger.

This was the rebirth of a woman into a Lamia and she was only getting started.

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Still working on getting into the groove of school, staying fit, and working on posts. But here’s another dark one that I came up with when I should be paying attention in my Folklore class. Shhhh, don’t tell.

Next Creature: Sphinx

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