You wandered through the night, desperate for shelter, until you came to a house with its lights on. Your home had been overrun by visitors, and you watched as your father became one of them. He had told you to use his shotgun and stop him before he could hurt you. It was painful —hurting someone you loved — but you had no choice. Fortunately, you still had the shotgun with some ammo left to protect yourself.

With a trembling hand, you raised your fist and knocked on the door. Your voice shook as you called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

You waited. Then a low, deep voice came from the other side of the door.

“What’s your purpose?”