HOW MY FATHER BECAME A WEREWOLF (THE UNKNOWN IS HIS FATHER)

The Ordinary Beginning

Aiden’s life had always seemed unremarkable, wrapped up in the cozy monotony of Silverwood

a town cradled by dense forests and winding rivers, where everyone knew each other’s business, and secrets were rare. Or at least, that’s what he had always believed.

He lived in a small, two-story house on the edge of town with his father, Liam. Their house sat like a stubborn relic of the past: faded wooden panels, flower boxes with half-dead roses, and a creaky front porch that groaned under the weight of a person’s footsteps. Liam, though far from the most conventional father, had his own unique ways of keeping life lively.

Mornings in the house were sacred, a time when pancakes were shaped like animals, laughter bounced off the walls, and Aiden could almost forget the emptiness left by his mother, who had vanished years ago.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!” Liam announced one Saturday morning, brandishing a spatula like a sword. He attempted to flip a pancake into the air, but instead it landed on the ceiling with a pathetic splat.

Aiden, perched on a stool with a mug of chocolate milk, burst into laughter. “Dad, I swear you do this on purpose just to freak me out!”

Liam grinned sheepishly. “It builds character. And patience. And makes for great stories.”

Aiden shook his head, still laughing. He had learned long ago that Liam’s eccentricities were part of the charm, a buffer against the mundane realities of life. Yet, beneath the humor, there was a subtle tension Aiden could feel but not quite place a restlessness in his father, a shadow that lingered in the corners of their home.

By noon, Aiden was wandering through the town square, a collection of quaint shops and cobblestone streets. He passed the bakery, waved at Mrs. Fenn, who insisted on giving him a free cookie, and even nodded at the mayor, who looked perpetually flustered. Silverwood was small, yes, but comforting in its predictable rhythm.

And then he saw her.

Isla.

She was leaning against the edge of the fountain, sunlight catching the auburn highlights in her hair, a sketchbook balanced on her knees as she absently doodled. She had been Aiden’s friend since childhood, and somewhere along the way, friendship had begun to dance on the edge of something more.

“Hey,” he called, approaching with a grin that mirrored her own.

“Hey yourself,” she said, looking up with a smile that always seemed to make the world brighter. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Aiden laughed, a little embarrassed. “Maybe I have. Or maybe my dad’s secretly a wizard and has cast a spell on the pancakes this morning.”

Isla laughed, and the sound was like wind chimes in spring. “Your dad’s strong, sure, but human? I think you’re safe for now.”

They wandered together, talking about school, their dreams, and the little absurdities of small-town life. And yet, even as they joked, Aiden felt that gnawing sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach. Something was coming

something that would shatter the ordinary world he had always known.

By evening, Aiden returned home to the smell of woodsmoke and dinner simmering on the stove. Liam greeted him with a tired smile, his eyes reflecting a depth of thought that seemed unusual for him.

“Busy day?” Liam asked, handing Aiden a plate of mashed potatoes that seemed to defy gravity with how fluffy they were.

“Pretty normal,” Aiden replied. He hesitated, then added, “Dad… are you feeling alright?”

Liam’s expression flickered. A shadow passed across his face, gone almost as quickly as it appeared. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice just a touch too low. “Just tired. That’s all.”

Aiden nodded but didn’t press. He had learned long ago that some things, especially with his father, couldn’t be forced open. Some mysteries would reveal themselves in time.

That night, as Aiden lay in bed, the wind outside whispered against the windows. The forest loomed dark and silent, yet alive. Somewhere in its depths, eyes watched, and Aiden felt it. A shiver ran down his spine not from the cold, but from something more primal, more unknowable.

The next morning, the ordinary rhythm of Silverwood seemed to shift subtly. Liam left early, claiming errands in town, though his gaze lingered on the forest beyond their property longer than usual. And then Aiden heard the first unusual sound: scratching at the back door.

He opened it to find nothing only the soft sway of the trees in the morning breeze. Yet the unease remained, tightening like a knot in his chest.

At school, Aiden couldn’t shake it. He tried to focus in class, but his mind wandered to the forest, to his father, and to the nagging feeling that the life he knew was only a thin veil over something far more complex.

During lunch, Isla noticed his distraction. “You’re quiet today,” she said, nudging him gently.

“I’m… I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just feel like something’s off. Like like the world is holding its breath.”

Isla frowned, her hand brushing his as she reached for her sandwich. “You always say things like that. It’s like you expect the universe to drop a secret on your lap every other day.”

Aiden laughed, though it was hollow. “Maybe it’s finally going to.”

That evening, Liam returned home with an air of mystery about him, carrying a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “Found this in the attic,” he said, placing it on the kitchen table. “Thought you might find it interesting.”

Curiosity piqued, Aiden tore the paper away. Inside was an intricately carved wooden box, adorned with moon motifs and strange symbols he didn’t recognize. Inside the box were old letters, a worn journal, and a silver pendant shaped like a wolf’s paw.

Aiden held the pendant in his hand, its metal cool and heavy. “Dad… what is this?”

Liam’s face darkened, a shadow of old pain crossing his features. “Some things in our family are complicated. Dangerous, even. You’re old enough to know, but also… old enough to regret.”

The weight of those words pressed down on Aiden. A chill ran through him, and the forest outside seemed to grow darker, more foreboding.

For the first time, Aiden understood that the ordinary life he had known pancakes, laughter, small-town rhythms was only a thin layer over something much deeper, much older, and far more dangerous.

That night, as Aiden lay awake, he clutched the pendant. Shadows danced across his walls, cast by the pale moonlight streaming through the window. Somewhere in the distance, the forest whispered secrets older than Silverwood itself, secrets that would soon drag him and his father into a world where ordinary and supernatural collided, where love and danger walked hand in hand, and where the definition of family could change forever.

Aiden closed his eyes, heart pounding. Tomorrow, everything would begin to change.