There's a large traditional red Swedish house in the middle of the woods in the middle of a village called Black Lake.

The trees are moving softly in the wind. There's an old rickety veranda that leads to the front door of the house.

The village is asleep, but there is one person who is awake.

A car slowly freaks up the driveway over the gravel.

A vehicle that's also conveniently dark for the purpose of this reconstruction but we're not sure what

color it was when it was actually happening. There's a figure behind the wheel.

The vehicle parks. We see a door open. We see a door open, a foot and then a leg and then the rest of a body, a body that's

crouching, a figure that does not want to be seen. And a face, the face of a person who is about to commit a crime,

depending on what your definition of crime is. The figure takes their time walking very soft slow steps

across the gravel. The figure is trying to look subtle but what the figure isn't doing is looking and sounding subtle.

The figure is holding something an object.

It seems to be flapping in the wind.

They're now stepping up. It seems to be flapping in the wind.

They're now stepping up the rickety wooden stairs carefully,

trying to not make any creaking sounds in case somebody is home.

The figure has just deposited the flapping object on the veranda. They look at it for a second, contemplating something.

Is that regret I see in their eyes?

They take a deep breath and then creep back down the rickety stairs.

The cat has noticed the fl. The cat is running with the figure. The figure gets

back into the driver's seat. The figure reverses down the driveway.

What the figure doesn't realize is that the beeping sound in the car is due to the reversing of the car so actually would have been smarter to not reverse.

To avoid being heard.

...