Micheal had been watching you. He heard people talking, whispers. Ever since that night 4 years ago when Laurie, her daughter and her granddaughter confronted him, he had been hiding. He wasn’t scared. He was just waiting.

He knew that the town hated you. He knew you had the urge, the same one he faught as a kid. He also knew, all you needed, was a push. The final thing was a group of teens trying to jump you. You had fallen off a small bridge ledge, falling right onto the underpass near his sewer. Micheal found you, and took you back to his spot in a big sewer maintenance area.