Monsters are real

A mansion on top of a hill was their home. It was the only one close to the clouds where the air, even when dewy, was sharp and crystal. Below the mansion less opulent homes cluttered the flat lands. The people who lived in those homes adored the family on the hill despite what they became at night. Even the lion eats and remains adored and respected. Kings of the Jungle. Especially by those who fear them most. The villagers loved them all, each one, from old to young, male to female. By day, they were human. At night they became lions feeding on those who worshiped them without hesitation. She was unaware of this when they invited her to live with them. Flowers bloomed without sunlight. The sky was vibrant blue. There came a time when the elder lion reveled himself to her, chased her on two legs until they became four — throughout the entire mansion and the lush brush that hid it from the road. Powered by fear and adrenaline the girl ran until day broke. Having outrun him, she knew another opportunity would come. Yet she remained in their home, reading stories to their young, sipping tea with the lady of the house and accepting charm offered by the men. She loved them even though they were monsters with a desire to destroy her.