I didn’t believe it at first when my son told me the young shepherd boy had told him there was a big bad wolf living in the woods. Wolves lived in the woods sure, but one made of pure evil? I wasn’t convinced. So I was relieved when his father came and put the story straight.

There was no big bad wolf, he’d just made it up to scare his son. Which was fair, I did similar stuff to my son too, that’s what us fathers do, so I got it, but then … the wolf really did attack.

No one knew where the wolf had come from, no one had much time to speculate because he snuck into our houses come the break of night and decimated our village.

I was working late the night he came. I saw the whole thing unfold, a dark shadow making its way into the heart of our village.

I rushed home, but it was too late, I watched the wolf devour my husband and son with a viciousness I couldn’t comprehend.

I fought him valiantly trying to I don’t know get justice for them, and he backed down, laughed, shook his head and left as quick as he came.

I was the only man left alive in the village, and it was all because the wolf had decided to spare me.

I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know if the shepherd lied to reassure us knowing full well the wolf existed or what, but what I do know is this. The wolf is real, and now he is my god.