Under the sickly green moon, a taxi car drove into a familiar neighborhood, its tires stopping with a haunting screech, allowing Mr. Valen to step out, a faint smile on his face.
It was quiet, mind-numbingly so, but he did not mind; he enjoyed the stiff, evil silence of the night as there were no people, no pressure, just him and perhaps the shadowy humanoid who stood by his front door peering into the keyhole like it was searching for something.
"Nice neighborhood," the cab driver (a man of large proportions pertaining to his stomach region) hummed in acknowledgement before driving off into the night, his vehicle letting out a low hum.
Mr. Valen watched the car leave, and after it disappeared from sight, the smile he had maintained for all this while disappeared from his face, leaving only a deathly calm as he turned to face his house.
