I thought this spray painted sign was a joke as I pulled over inside the small town of North Hawk, Nebraska, population 56. But as I walked closer, I heard it. A banging coming from inside. I froze and looked up. The windows were rattling - all of them. My hair rose on my arms and I realized the light was fading fast... the shadows surrounding me stretching deep black and angular. That's when I noticed something at the edge of my vision: people walking toward me. I turned toward the street, my back to the rising clatter of the banging from within the building, and I saw that each person walking toward me (what must have been the entire town) was wearing a black, eyeless mask. I started slowly backing away and became aware of another sound now: whispering from the people in the black masks. "Welcome... welcome... welcome..." they were chanting. I noticed a butcher knife in the hand of a woman in a red polka dot dress. The man next to her, in expensive-looking cowboy boots and denim jeans, was dragging a chain behind him. Then I hit my back against the first-floor window of the building, not even having the time to scream as the windows shattered around me and the thing in the building grabbed me and pulled me inside. The sign to North Hawk, Nebraska now reads: Population 57. .
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