deer hunter, how i became a skinwalker in a world of animal people.

( will revise ) ruins of our lives

The sun was sinking low, turning the sky a pale orange as Lily, Mara, Nia, and Elara walked home together from school. Their footsteps were heavy, crunching over the dry leaves scattered across the pavement. The air was crisp, and the faint scent of woodsmoke curled in from somewhere nearby, but it did little to calm the uneasy tension that hung between them.

"I don't get why Stacy didn't show today," Nia muttered, kicking a pebble down the street. Her voice had an edge of concern that she tried to hide under a layer of casualness.

"She wouldn't just ditch," Mara replied, her brows knitting together. "Stacy always tells me when she's gonna do something like that. She was fine yesterday—just a little mad her parents were leaving."

"Yeah," Elara added. "She said she was sick of her aunt treating her like a kid, so she stayed home against their wishes. She wasn't acting weird or anything."

Lily nodded. "She didn't seem like she was planning to disappear."

They turned onto Stacy's street, and immediately, something felt off. Stacy's house stood at the end of the block, dark and looming. The porch light was off, which was unusual; Stacy's parents always kept it on after sunset. The mailbox was wide open, with envelopes and papers strewn across the grass, fluttering like lost feathers.

"Why's the mailbox like that?" Elara asked, frowning.

"Dunno," Lily replied, her stomach twisting. "That's not like Stacy."

"Maybe she got mad and tossed the mail around?" Nia suggested, but even she didn't sound convinced.

Mara, always the brave one, was already moving ahead, climbing the porch steps slowly. "Stace?" she called, voice tight. "You here?"

Silence.

Lily followed cautiously, eyes scanning the surroundings. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it—the front door was cracked open, almost hanging off its hinges. As they got closer, she noticed shards of broken glass scattered across the porch, twinkling like evil little stars.

"Guys..." Lily whispered, a tremor in her voice, "the door's open."

Elara hesitated. "Should we... call her aunt or something? I mean, if she left in a hurry—"

"No," Lily cut in. "We should check inside first. Just in case she's... here."

The others nodded, and Lily reached out, pushing the door open with a slow creak. The inside of the house was a mess—like a storm had torn through. The entryway table was overturned, papers scattered, and the usual cozy feel of Stacy's home was gone. Everything felt wrong.

"Holy crap..." Mara breathed, stepping in carefully.

They moved deeper into the house, each step hesitant and echoing in the eerie silence. The kitchen was a disaster—cabinets flung open, drawers hanging out, and a plate of half-eaten food on the floor.

"Was she looking for something?" Elara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lily shook her head. "This... this isn't like her."

Nia, who had been quiet, suddenly gasped. "Guys... look at the fridge."

They turned to see what she was pointing at. The fridge door was slightly open, and Lily moved closer, peering inside. Milk was spilled, eggs smashed on the shelf. But it was what wasn't there that caught her eye—the emergency money jar Stacy's mom always kept on the top shelf was missing.

Lily muttered, a cold sweat breaking on her forehead. "They took stuff."

"Or someone," Mara added, a dark edge to her voice.