The Imitator in the Desert

The Navajo never speak its name after dark because saying it three times will summon something

that should never exist. Deep in the Arizona desert, my grandfather told

me about the skinwalkers. These aren't your typical ghost stories. These are Navajo witches who sold

their souls to wear the skins of animals and hunt humans for sport. Last month,

I was camping near Canyon de Chelly when I heard it. Footsteps circling my tent,

but they kept changing. First human, then wolf, then something else entirely.

The scratching started at 3 AM. Long claws dragging across the fabric, testing for weakness.

I grabbed my flashlight and unzipped the tent. Nothing. Just my own footprints