just a little note before the story

Walking alone on a cold, bitter night in Woodstock isn't the best thing to do for a 17 year old. Even if you just fought with your mom.

The freaky mist unnaturally crawling across the damp road while very new gas guzzlers pass through; and creepy men dragging their heavy feet along the paved sidewalks.

The sound of gunshots from blocks away make me speed up my pace as the shouting from outraged men fade away.

After several minutes of horrific silence, I begin to hear heavy footsteps behind me. Finally, a terrifying voice speaks out...