Let me tell you a story. My story. One that starts what feels like multiple lifetimes ago, when I was still naive of the world and beyond, of what was always there but hidden from most of us. Well, I knew of our Neighbors even then, but not what they were. I have known of them for most, if not all of my life, and you might too, as they are most often seen by children. Their imaginary friends, as they so often get dismissed as.

You might be wondering who, or what it is I am talking about. Well, they have many names, different from place to place, person to person. The Neighbors, Outsiders, Veiled Ones. Monsters. Many also called them Fae, but that is not always correct. They are the ones who come to our world the most, but they aren't all that's out there. They are, however, some of the most sinister entities you can encounter, and I learned a lot about them during my time at the orphanage.

They lurked in the dark places. The deepest corners of the house is where they hid, coming out to play as soon as the sun sets. This is not to say that they only came out at night, but rather that was when they were most plentiful and most visible. You would think the darkness would hide them but it only outlines them against the world, truly showcasing their otherworldly nature.

Now don't go expecting to see them glow in the dark, even if some do, but rather prepare for your vision to be drawn to them, for when your sight is unfocused, they will enter it. But be careful. They can and will see you long before you do them, and if your eyes meet, if the one you encounter even possesses any, then it will know. It will know you can see it and that is all they are waiting for. It is the true reason they come out at night. It is the time when you are most likely to see, to witness their existence, and they want to be noticed.

They are attention seekers by nature. They love games, albeit ones where the rules fall to their whims and they are the only player, and you, the victim. You won't be invited to play. It is why you will never know what the rules are, but should you break any, pray, pray to whatever entity you can think of that their punishment does not involve your death. Or do. Sometimes death might be preferable. A quick one that is. They enjoy dragging out their fun. They don't get seen very often after all.

Luckily they aren't all completely heartless, emotionless monsters. They are in fact quite intelligent but simply possess morals so far removed from our own that they may seem like it. You need to learn what they value, what they want. That way you can make deals. Maybe even pay them off for whatever you did to incur their wrath.

For one, they like children. It is why they don't get killed despite being the ones to encounter them the most. Anyone younger than ten years on the dot is safe, but the moment they pass that milestone, it is as if a switch gets flipped. They turn from loyal friends and playmates to sadistic monsters. That was the case with Ethilla, my 'imaginary friend'.

Ethilla was, what you might be most familiar with, a fairy. Small, humanoid, and flies, but don't even think it resembles a human. It was pure white, androgenous, and looked like it was made of petals and leaves. Its arms and legs were shaped like that of a praying mantis, its torse thin and elongated, it possessed a neck like a snake's body, and the only feature on its face were two beady, pure black eyes.

Being the child I was, I trusted it fully as I had known it for years. I thought I had known it. It would tell me stories, critique my scribblings, have tea parties with my dolls. It truly did go along with anything and everything and somewhat even protected me, consoled me when I was sad. It was why, after I turned ten, I never questioned the advice it started to give me. The things it started to urge me to do. None of it seemed that harmful to my young mind. Just harmless pranks as it called them. A way to express myself. It took advantage of when I would get into fights with my friends or family to have me take revenge. Cut their shoelaces. Smear their food with dirt. Take out the filters from their gas masks.

That last one is what did it. My biggest regret and dumbest decision I had ever made. If only I hadn't been so stupid and trusting they wouldn't have died during that gas bombing, I wouldn't have landed in that cursed orphanage and I wouldn't have been adopted by that mad alchemist seeking immortality in the Faelands. I often wonder what my life would have been like if that day I just stopped to think what it was that I was doing. I wonder what it would have been like to see my sister grow up, to finish school, to not have to live with a cursed body always on the brink of falling apart.

But such is the life I was given, the hand I was dealt. One filled with suffering, sacrifice, and our ever-present Neighbors.

Now make sure you listen, and listen well, as there is a lot you can learn from my experiences. I don't want anyone else making the same mistakes as me, ending up in this sorry state where I can barely be called human anymore. It will only be getting worse from here on out as the orphanage was the first place I met fae after they stopped seeing me as a child.