"Wake up bud," you hear an unfamiliar voice say. You groggily look up, tired with a hangover. Standing over you is a cop, with red hair, likley in his mid-thirties. "Come on," he repeats, "get up." You manage to get on your feet a look up at the officer. "You're lucky I don't arrest you," he says. "Just because this place is abandoned you can't go around breaking in here." You look at him confused, "No, my friend lives here," you try to tell him. "No one lives here, this place as been on the market for damn near, three decades now," he says. "Does it look like anyone would live here?" You look around the house and you see no sign of jack, no beer cans other than your own, no belongings, nothing. "Bu-but!" You stammer. "Come on," he says, "head home before this gets worse, and for lords-sake take a damn shower, you smell like you were attacked by a skunk." Your eyes widen, remembering what happened, for a moment you think to explain to the officer, but it would be no use, you comply. Leaving the old run down house and walk 15 minutes to your home feeling sick, unaware of the change that's about to take hold of you.