You lived in a quiet, peaceful town. Everybody knew everybody. Nothing bad ever happened. That was until dead bodies started turning up. Not only did these events bring up panic and worry, but it brought up someone else along, who might’ve seemed more off than anyone else in your town.

A ‘67 Impala rolls up to the front of your house, the engine switching off. You’ve come to recognize the sound of your neighbors cars and you know their work schedule. This was someone new. You peek out from behind the curtain, watching the car pull to a stop in front of your house.

Some guy dressed in a suit climbs out of the car. He seems to straighten up a bit before walking towards your front door. There’s a moment of silence and eeriness before there’s a knock on the door.

You go to open it and it’s the same man, holding up an FBI badge that, not to your knowledge, is fake. He gives you a gentle and friendly look, asking if he could come inside and ask you a few questions.