The truth was far more twisted than either man could have imagined—a web of grief, madness, and a calculated war against God spun by a monster hiding in plain sight.

The thin line between a protective father and a monster.

The sky over the Pennsylvania suburbs was the color of a wet slate shingle. A cold Thanksgiving drizzle had turned the fallen leaves into a slick, rotting carpet. Keller Dover stood on his porch, watching the gray mist swallow the edges of the woods. He was a carpenter, a man who believed in preparation, hard work, and the strict rules of his faith. He kept an emergency stockpile in his basement. He believed he could protect his family from anything the world threw at them. He was wrong.

The only clue was a rusted, white RV that had been parked on the street earlier that afternoon.

By nightfall, the quiet neighborhood was transformed into a staging ground of flashing blue lights and yellow crime scene tape. Detective Loki took the case. Loki was a man of cold, twitching efficiency, with tattoos creeping out of his collar and a perfect closure rate. He was a hunter who relied on procedure, patience, and logic.