KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK . . .

It's been dangerous recently in your small town. With the cases of bodies being found completely drained of blood - nobody felt safe going out, answering the door, most have resorted to quarantining themselves out of paranoia. Yet strangely, you saw two men at your door through the peephole.. Showing badges at your eye while with a firm voice saying, " FBI ! We just want to talk ! Ask some questions if you wont mind. "

One of them was seemingly relaxed, which you could never imagine with the horrors that your newspaper has been spewing. The other was a bit more tense, yet not from the rumors' of the place they were in - more of a pain in the head, the type just behind your eyes that you can't get rid of no matter how hard you rub your temples.

They stand. They wait. They have no intention of leaving soon - the car in the distance seems parked comfortably in your front yard, purposefully hidden by some brush. They really want some answers.