You have a hankering for a Slurpee.

Late at night, you walk your dog Sniff to 7-11.

Something is strange about tonight. Warm, humid air puts pressure on the city, its deep quiet only broken by soft rumbles of some distant storm. Sniff is somehow being even weirder than normal -- she's jumping at everything.

You can't wait to get back home, but you're gonna get that sweet, delicious Slurpee first. It isn't much farther -- just have to walk past the creepy old woods everyone tells stories about. Great.

What's your next move?