In the early 1990s, a teenager snuck into the barn right outside of his family's property and climbed up into the rafters. Once he was safely tucked away in his secret spot where no one could see him from the floor below, he pulled some rolling papers out of his pocket, along with a bag of marijuana, and rolled a joint. A few minutes later, and he was enjoying a nice high and staring out the nearby window at the moon up above. But as he smoked, he suddenly heard the barn doors opening down below. The teen froze and held the smoke in his lungs, hoping it wasn't his family out looking for him. But when the teen looked down, he could tell right away this was not his family. This was something else, this was something bad. And moments later, it would get much, much worse.
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