In the quiet town of Meadowgrove, rain began to fall. A scream echoed through the dense, foggy night. Lights flickered on in sleepy, curious homes. Silhouettes peered out, seeking answers in dark. Old Mrs. Harper's house stood silent, still. Her front door creaked open, swaying in wind. Inside, a dim lamp flickered beside an empty chair. A cup of tea steamed, untouched, beside a ticking clock. Blood dripped slow, steady, from beneath the couch.