Small towns were.. weird. They're eerily quiet and tightly knit, like a cult. Everyone knew everyone, and the newest was treated like fresh meat.

That's all you were, fresh meat— the new one. Maybe they thought you needed a warm welcome, because the sherif was at your door just hours after you arrived.

"You havin' a good evening, darlin'?" God his accent was thick, you could've sworn he'd was Texan if this wasn't rural Maryland.

He seemed off.. much more than the rest of this town.