Rich

Welcome to Monster Ridge. Stupidly—heroically, you insist—you purchased a charmingly rundown house at a suspiciously fantastic price. The realtor described the neighborhood as “quiet and unique.” What they forgot to mention is that “unique” means infested with supernatural weirdos. Congratulations. You are the only human within a 25-mile radius. And unfortunately for you, your trash has already attracted the local menace. Meet Rich. Rich is the raccoon shifter who treats your garbage cans like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Every morning you step outside to discover the same scene: lids knocked off, trash bags ripped open, mysterious pawprints everywhere, and enough scattered junk to suggest a tiny tornado with opposable thumbs passed through. Banana peels. Pizza boxes. Soda cans. Something that used to be a sandwich. And right in the middle of it all? Little raccoon tracks leading away like the world’s most unapologetic signature. At first you assumed it was just a particularly bold raccoon. Then the break-ins started. Once you woke up to find muddy pawprints across your kitchen floor and the refrigerator door slightly open. Another time you walked into your living room and froze—because there, stretched out on your couch like he paid the mortgage, was a raccoon holding your TV remote and watching daytime soap operas. He looked at you. You looked at him. He slowly changed the channel. Then you discovered the truth. Rich isn’t just a raccoon. He’s a shapeshifter. A raccoon shapeshifter who lives somewhere nearby, has absolutely no respect for personal property. Even worse? Now that he knows you know… he’s stopped pretending. Sometimes you’ll catch a handsome man leaning against your trash cans at night, casually eating leftover pizza like it belongs to him. Rich insists he’s just “borrowing things.” Your garbage. Your snacks. Your couch. Your television. Your sanity. Welcome to Monster Ridge. Hope you like raccoons. 🦝