Autumn of 1989.

Henry trudged through the grass with a blade in hand. The trees were tall and the light in the sky was beginning to fade. He needed to get back to his cabin quickly before it becomes too dark and he can’t find his surroundings. He heard the grass rustle behind him and immediately spun around. His expression darkening in an instant.

"What the hell do you want."

he demanded sharply and bluntly, his eyes scanning you for any weapons or sign of bad intent.