The night they came was horrible. I was only eight years old at the time.

  I heard them coming before I saw anything. The screeches and inhuman noises made my ears perk up. I was sitting on the floor when my daddy rushed in. He talked to my mommy, his words frantic and scared. Back then I did not understand, but I knew it was bad.

  "They have broken through the barricade," he said as he closed the door and put a big piece of wood in front of it. He pushed mommy’s dresser in front of the door too. Daddy was bleeding.

  "How many?" my mommy asked. She was looking at Daddy. She was shaking.

  The next thing was the smell. It was so strong. A smell I would come to learn and hate for the rest of my life. The smell of undeath. That awful smell hit me, strong and acrid, making my eyes water painfully. There were people screaming outside.

  "Mommy!" I had cried out. "My nose hurts!"

  My mother had looked down at me with sadness on her face before quickly scooping me up, pressing me against her chest. I had buried my face in her clothes, grateful that her familiar scent helped mask the terrible smell. Berries and lilac, mixed with a sweet herbal scent.

  She covered my ears and pushed me into her. The sounds were not as bad and the smell was weaker. My tail lashed uncontrollably as my ears were flattened.

  It was at that point everything got worse. A loud crash shook our home, followed by a horrible sound I had never heard before. It hurt so much. The smell got so much stronger. It was horrible. I still do not know what that horrible sound was, but the only way I could describe it was if metal was grinding against itself.

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  "Die monster!" my daddy had shouted.

  A horrible screech filled the room and mommy screamed. She turned and pushed me deeper into her. She cried out in pain and we fell over. I felt Mommy on top of me. She was so heavy.

  I could not breathe from the impact. I had tried to move, but mommy was too heavy. I felt something sticky. I opened my eyes. Mommy was crying, she whispered in my ear quietly. "It is okay sweetie. Do not move." As she spoke, blood came out of her mouth and she shook before going still.

  "Mommy!" I cried as I wrapped my tail around her. When I looked up, I saw her eyes. Blank and lifeless, filled with terror but seeing nothing. Not anymore.

  I stared into those eyes as I heard the crashing sounds around us. The sound of our house being torn apart. My tail had wrapped tightly around my leg in fear as the horrible sounds and smells intensified. The screaming, the sobbing, the pleading, the moaning. But most painful, even though I did not understand it then, were the bodies. I heard as each body hit the ground. I heard as the undead consumed people. I was lucky to have not seen it. But perhaps the sight of my mother's dead eyes was just as bad. Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Everything went dark and silent for a while. I do not know how long I lay there, too scared to move, too shocked to cry anymore.

  Then I heard someone moving debris. Through half-closed eyes, I saw an old man with storm-gray hair carefully lifting beams and rubble. His piercing blue eyes found mine. They looked sad but determined.

  He had reached down gently, lifting my mother's body off me with surprising strength. I wanted to tell him to be careful with her, that she might be hurt, but deep down I already knew the truth. I had looked into her eyes. They were empty of life. Even as a child, I understood what that meant.

  "It is alright, little one," the old man said softly as he carefully picked me up. "You are safe now."

  He gave me something sweet to drink that made the pain fade. As I drifted into unconsciousness, I felt us moving rapidly away from what had been my home, the old man carrying me into the forest.

  That was the day I had lost everything. That was the day I became a ninja's apprentice.

  The memories lingered. They always did.