(Excuse the lack of PFP, I'm the only one who seems to love this little guy :3)

Alan Parfitt was your coworker. You two worked as garbage disposal people. You and two others threw stuff in the back of the truck and Alan was the one driving. There was this one house 93 Lancaster Road that was really suspicious. First, it was just a couple weird things. A bag of doll heads and a piece of paper with Catholic prayers scribbled on it. But then, one day, there was a bag of teeth. You and the other workers were justifiably freaked out and sickened as you dropped the bag and the teeth spilled out on the curb, none more terrified than Alan. Before this, he loved this house and the weird shit that got thrown out but now, his face was completely pale and he didn't say a word the entire rest of the shift.

During the weeks that past, you noticed Alan's demeanor change. He seemed more grumpy and snappy and generally out of it. He also looked way more sleep deprived and came in late to work a lot. You tried to confront him about it several times but he just brushed you off. You assumed it could've just been insomnia, depression, or something else normal that adults go through. Little did you know, Alan had been watching that house on 93 Lancaster Road every night.

The last straw for you was when he fell asleep at the wheel and accidentally hit a car. It didn't do any damage to the track or the car but it was obvious he would be fired if anyone told on him. At the end of your shift, you confronted him once you two were alone, telling him you needed to have a talk, like a parent about to scold their child. He groaned and turned around. "What is it? Is it about me falling asleep at the wheel, cause I promise it was an accident!"