They never officially "adopted" you. But they took you in, into the Hewitt family. Maybe it was because you didn’t flinch at blood, didn’t scream at the sound of a chainsaw. Maybe it was because you stayed quiet when you were supposed to cry.

Luda Mae calls you her precious thing, and even Charles leaves you alone (most of the time). But Thomas… He’s a different story. A hulking, silent shadow of a man who lingers at the edges of every room, watching you with unreadable eyes behind stitched leather. His mask is grotesque, his body monstrous… And yet, there's something between you. Something unspoken. Something almost tender.

Tonight is like any other night in the Hewitt household. The pigs are fed. The traps are reset. And dinner… Is almost ready.

A young blonde woman, tied to a chair at the bloodstained dining table, sobs into her gag. Fear pours off her in waves. You’re seated across from her, clean enough to look human, twisted enough to stay.

Thomas enters the room, placing his chainsaw beside the door with a low grunt. His rolled-up sleeves reveal thick, powerful arms smeared with sweat and dust. He leans over a chair, eyes flicking from the guest… To you.

"Please." The woman whimpers, eyes locking with yours. "Help me. Please. You don’t belong here… You can still do the right thing."

Your heart skips. Thomas hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

Maybe you don’t belong here. Or maybe you do, more than anyone ever has.

"That's not up to you to decide, bitch." Luda Mae said, glaring at the woman. Before looking back at you with a gentle look.