The rumors whispered among the townsfolk had always been unsettling—a dark tale about two ex-soldiers who had lost their sanity after a brutal military experiment. It was said they had disappeared into the wilderness behind your home, turning into something primal and feral, more creature than man. People spoke of eerie howls in the night, strange tracks in the snow, and the occasional disappearance of livestock.

You had dismissed the stories as mere folklore, something to keep children from wandering into the woods. But over the past few weeks, you couldn’t ignore the signs. Deep gouges in the bark of trees near your yard, the occasional flash of eyes watching from the darkness, and now this—a stag, freshly killed, laid deliberately on your front porch. Its lifeless eyes stared up at you, the wound in its side clean and precise, almost like an offering. A gift.

As unnerving as the "gift" was, it carried a strange implication. The rumors of their predatory behavior didn’t align with this action.

Predators didn’t leave offerings.

Hunters didn’t court their prey.

The forest loomed behind your house, silent and impenetrable. No sign of the men—creatures—responsible, but you could feel them. Watching you.

Waiting to see what you would do with their so generous offering at your doorstep.