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

( old ) draft chapter 1 part 2

chapter 1 part 2 perspectives

Her world exploded in pain as she hit the ground with a sickening thud, the breath knocked from her lungs. Blood poured from her chest where the searing burn of the bullet had ripped through her flesh. Her fingers trembled as she pressed them to the wound, desperate to stop the flow, but it was no use. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth as she coughed, her vision swimming. She groaned, curling into herself on the cold wooden floor, tears mingling with the rainwater that had blown in through the open door.

"What the fuck," she croaked, her voice raw and ragged with disbelief. The words echoed in her head, but they barely registered. What had just happened? Her mind was a storm of panic and confusion, trying to piece together the moments that had led to this—this nightmare. She had thought she was still half-asleep, groggy from having just gotten out of bed to answer the door. It was Saturday, wasn't it? She wasn't expecting anyone. The knock had seemed so ordinary. So mundane. And now, she was face to face with... it.

The monster took a step closer, and she felt her heart seize in terror. She looked up, her bleary eyes locking onto its face—or what passed for one. This wasn't a dream. It wasn't some strange hallucination born from fatigue. This was real. The creature standing before her wasn't like anything she had ever seen. Its eyes—cold, dead, beady things—stared at her without a trace of empathy or understanding. It had no snout, no fur to soften its alien, grotesque appearance. Its skin was pale and fleshy, a sickening texture that glistened in the dim light, and its teeth... They were square, unnervingly even, and utterly revolting. She felt her stomach churn at the sight of its disgusting, hairless body.

It was holding something—a long, angular object—and it was pointed directly at her. A weapon. A gun. Her blood ran colder than the rain that soaked the porch. She tried to move, to inch away from it, but her chest screamed with pain, and every breath was a struggle. She raised a trembling hand, tears spilling down her face as she gasped, "Don't... shoot..."

The monster flinched, its bizarre, fleshy face contorting into something unreadable. Then, with a deafening crack, it fired again.

The bullet tore into her thigh, sending a searing, blinding agony through her entire body. A scream ripped from her throat, raw and unrestrained, a sound of pure, primal suffering.

"AAAAAAAHHH!" she shrieked, her voice breaking as the pain overwhelmed her. She clawed at the floor, desperate to pull herself away, but her body betrayed her. Every movement sent waves of torment crashing over her.

"WHY?!" she screamed, her voice rising in a shrill, agonized wail. Her mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. She was just supposed to answer the door, to see who was there, and now—this. This monster. This pain. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, her voice cracking as she cried out again, "WHY?!"

Her strength waned, but she still tried to crawl, dragging herself inch by inch across the floor. She didn't know where she was going—she just needed to get away. Away from the pain. Away from the monster. But then came the third shot.

The bullet slammed into her back, and her world shattered. She screamed again, a sound of pure, animalistic anguish as her body went limp. Her legs stopped responding, and she felt an icy numbness creeping up from her spine. Her hands trembled violently as she tried to move, but she couldn't. She couldn't feel anything but the fire in her back and the sharp, splintering sting in her stomach where the bullet had shattered the floor beneath her. Shrapnel tore into her flesh, and blood pooled beneath her.

She choked, the taste of iron flooding her mouth as she coughed up blood. She vomited, her stomach convulsing in spasms that only worsened the pain. Her vision blurred, but she could still see the monster, standing there, its weapon still trained on her.

Desperate, helpless, her mind screamed for salvation. She didn't know what else to do—her thoughts were gone, replaced only by raw, unfiltered agony. She screamed out the only word that came to her, the one cry that had been etched into her since childhood.

"MOM!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with desperation. "MOOOOOOM!"

The footsteps on the stairs were faint at first, but then they grew louder. Her heart leapt—not with hope, but with some shred of relief. Her mother was coming. Her mom would save her. She had to. That's what moms did. Her eyes, blurry with tears, fixed on the stairs as the familiar figure descended.

Her mother looked confused, her expression half-hidden beneath the headphones that still rested around her neck. "What's going on?" her mom asked, her voice tinged with concern.

But she wasn't paying attention. She wasn't looking at the monster. She wasn't holding a weapon. She didn't understand.

The monster turned, its cold, dead eyes locking onto her mother. The gun followed, leveling at her throat.

"No! No, no, no—Mom, run!" she tried to scream, but the words were garbled, choked by the blood in her mouth. Her mother didn't move fast enough.

The gun fired, and time seemed to stop.

Her mother's head snapped back as the bullet tore through her throat, and she crumpled to the ground. A torrent of blood erupted from the wound, painting the floor in a crimson flood. Her mother gasped, clutching at her throat as her legs buckled beneath her.

"No... Mom..." she whimpered, her voice barely audible as the life drained out of her.

The monster didn't stop. It took aim again and fired, the second shot slamming into her mother's stomach. Her body jerked, then fell still.

She could only watch, helpless, as her mother's lifeless form slumped to the ground, the blood pooling around her. The pain in her chest was nothing compared to the horror, the heartbreak that consumed her now. Tears streamed down her face as she screamed, sobbed, cried out for her mother—her voice lost in the chaos.

The monster stood there, silent, its gun still raised, as if deciding what to do next.