My name is Samuel Singer, and I think I've seen something I shouldn't have.

That's not exactly unusual.

As a reporter, I'm often actively seeking out events and situations that people have

tried to keep buried, an element of secrecy, forbidden knowledge.

It's precisely what makes a good story, usually.

But I've learned something these past few days.

I've learned that I'm not nearly as brave as I once thought I was.

I've learned that there are darker corners of the world around me than I could have ever

possibly imagined.

And I learned that sometimes, even when confronted with such a dark corner, the last thing you

should do is turn a light.

Now let me take you back to last Tuesday.

Firstly, he was reigning, which was a problem.

Though it's all too common in Habitsville, I've learned to hate the rain.

I find it too on the nose and horror films and too cliche in romantic ones.

In town, it would settle a smell of smog and cigarettes over the paved streets that

couldn't have been escaped, not even by going inside.

But last Tuesday, at least, I wasn't in Habitsville.

I was traveling on my coworker's heather to Rhodes Creek a few towns over.

Despite its closeness to Habitsville, I'd never visited.

Even when I was younger, I remember my parents taking the long way around when we needed

to get across the state.

...