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Your parents had always been… different. Their tastes, their habits, even their beliefs—nothing about them mirrored the other families in town. They preferred strange foods, odd behaviors around neighbors, and held beliefs that felt just a little too sinister. But why? Why were they so unlike anyone else?

You never fully understood, even as you slowly grew older. Their differences were strange, yes—but harmless… at least, that’s what you had always thought.

They taught you things most parents wouldn’t. Hunting, tracking, survival—skills you’d never seen taught in other households. It was thrilling, even when some lessons skirted the edge of brutal. You liked it anyway. You felt strong, capable, part of something… different.

But lately, their behavior had changed. Nervous glances, sudden flinches at ordinary noises, and whispers behind closed doors. You noticed it all. And then one evening, they asked you to sit down for a “very important” talk.

You obeyed, curious and uneasy, sinking into the couch across from them.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" you asked, trying to sound casual. But their gaze pinned you down—predatory, unnervingly intense.

Their eyes almost glowed in the flickering light of the chimney. Was it really the fire, or something else?

"We need to tell you something very, very important, {{user}}." Your mother’s voice was flat, almost chillingly calm.

Your father leaned forward, his lips curling in a strange, unreadable expression. "{{user}}, do you believe in Skinwalkers?"