Gina stood right beside them, her face contorted with agonizing pain. The moment two more creatures tried to burst through the splintering frame, she opened fire with salt rounds.
The blasts slammed heavily into their wet bodies, sending the grindylows shrieking backward, tumbling right back into the roaring inferno of the house.
"Burn, you bastards!" she screamed through clenched teeth.
Yet, a few managed to break free.
Three grindylows, the fastest and most desperate of the brood, scrambled out from beneath the cracking foundation and darted wildly toward the safety of the creek, leaving behind shiny, wet trails of thick slime. They moved with terrifying speed, their webbed limbs rapidly churning across the forest floor.
Ethan was the first to react.
He brought up the shotgun and fired two consecutive salt rounds. The loud, deafening cracks echoed across the clearing.
Two of the grindylows squealed sharply and rolled violently across the dirt, their wet bodies immediately sizzling, smoking, and melting away like hot wax over an open flame. Thick black slime began to pool and seep into the grass.
The third creature had almost reached the edge of the rushing water.
"Oh no, you don't!" Gina yelled.
Pushing through the searing pain in her leg, she lunged forward and drove her knife with all her might straight into the retreating creature's back. The grindylow wailed, arching its spine in agony, as Gina violently twisted the blade. Her leg was actively bleeding, but she completely blocked out the throbbing pain.
The fire had now entirely claimed the cabin. The weakened roof collapsed inward with a resounding, thunderous crash, sending a massive geyser of sparks into the night sky. Muffled, dying shrieks still echoed from the core of the burning structure as the last of the grindylows burned alive.
David stood there, leaning heavily against the tree trunk, his face starkly illuminated by the pulsing orange glow of the destruction.
"They'll burn completely…" he said softly. "Not even a smell will be left."
Ethan and Gina stepped back over to his side. The three of them stood close together, silently watching the nest turn to ash. The embers floated up into the dark canopy like a dense swarm of fiery fireflies, slowly drifting down over the clearing.
David leaned his weight fully against the weathered bark of the old tree. His face was a mask of sweat, soot, and dark blood dripping down his temple from a shallow head wound. His eyes remained fixed on the roaring blaze.
"This is only one nest…" he murmured, never breaking his gaze from the flames. "There are many more hidden in these woods. We can't let them spread."
Ethan and Gina stood beside him, both heavily splattered with a grim mixture of blood, slime, and black soot. Gina finally lowered her pistol.
"They almost dragged me under the floorboards…" she breathed out heavily. "Those slippery freaks… Thanks for pulling me out."
She looked up at Ethan and offered a weak, weary smile filled with genuine gratitude. He simply nodded back, finding himself at a loss for words; his hands were still damp and trembling from the desperate struggle of hauling his sister out of that foul pool.
David slowly turned his head to look at his children. Supporting himself against the tree to keep his footing, he studied them both with a long, deliberate gaze.
"The first hunt was a success," he said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly register. "And a highly effective one at that. You didn't panic. You protected each other when it mattered most. That's exactly what you need. That's precisely what I wanted to teach you."
He paused, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching the corners of his lips.
"Now, let's head back to the camp and pack our things. We aren't spending the night here. Gina, grab the large notebook and step over here. Write down everything about the grindylows, their appearance, their preferred nesting grounds, their weaknesses: salt, silver, fire. We need this journal to be our record through everything we face from here on out. You must never forget what you learned today."
Gina nodded, shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She winced from the injury but refused to complain. Ethan quickly moved in, placing a supportive hand under her elbow.
"I'll help you walk," he said quietly.
David cast one final look back at the collapsing cabin. The roaring flames had completely swallowed the rotten timber.
"Tonight, we take the victory," he added softly. "But tomorrow is a new day. And there will be new monsters. You need to be ready."
They slowly turned away, beginning their trek back through the dark, oppressive woods. Behind them, the ruins of the grindylow nest continued to burn down, slicing through the midnight gloom with a bright, fading warmth.
Wincing with every agonizing step, Gina paused for a brief second to pull a thick, battered notebook with a darkened leather cover from her backpack.
The binding was heavily weathered, and the edges of the pages were already curled and stained from past use. She flipped it open, clamping a small flashlight between her teeth to illuminate the blank lines.
Ethan walked right beside his sister, his arms ready to steady her if she stumbled.
Their father spoke quietly but firmly, ensuring every single detail would imprint perfectly in their minds:
"Grindylows… water-dwelling entities. They thrive and breed only in stagnant water and places where corpses are present. They prefer dark, damp environments, make sure to note down abandoned cabins near creeks, flooded basements, and old wells."
"Small, but incredibly fast when submerged. On dry land, they lose their speed advantage. They fear salt and fire above all else.
Silver burns their flesh, but it won't instantly kill them. The most critical rule is to never let them latch onto you. If they manage to bite or grip, douse them immediately with salt."
Gina scribbled rapidly under the shaking beam of the flashlight. She carefully traced the letters into the journal, pausing only briefly to clarify a point through her teeth:
"How do they lure people in? Is it through voices?"
"Yes," David confirmed with a nod. "They can mimic a desperate cry for help, a crying child, or even the voice of someone you know closely."
Ethan walked in absolute silence, listening to his father's instructions while keeping his eyes glued to the dark path ahead.
Every single rustle in the underbrush made him flinch. The phantom sensation of those cold, wet, webbed hands trying to drag his sister down into the black abyss still lingered on his skin.
Gina turned the heavy page and continued writing.
"Add this as well," David directed.
"They hunt and live in packs. If you spot one, there are at least five or six more waiting nearby. And the greater the body of water, the larger the pack. You will almost never find them in completely dry areas."
Gina nodded, grimacing from the steady throb in her thigh, but her pen didn't stop moving.
The beam of the flashlight trembled slightly in her grip, casting long, erratic shadows across the ancient tree trunks blocking their path.
Ethan kept pace right next to her, looking at the worn leather cover. He realized then that this notebook wasn't just a simple collection of notes anymore. It was their new bible, a book forged in blood and fire that would one day save their lives.