[The last light of day drains away and the darkness of the canyon seems to spread, creeping toward town. You make your way down the alley and out through the car gate, which crunches shut behind you with an air of finality. You all stand, looking over the wide, empty stretch of cobblestone parking lot.]

[For a little while, it's quiet. Darkness creeps in like fog.]

[As the fog settles in, it doesn't take long before you begin to hear noises. Shuffling, scraping, grunting, moaning. And laughing.]

[In the darkness, you hear a what sounds like a woman's voice, high pitched and light. She's laughing. And laughing.]

And then said woman comes striding out of the darkness on six sickle-shaped legs.]