Warren walked in a daze down the steps of the empty mansion that his family once called home but now only he lived in. As he walked into the kitchen, he tripped over something lying in the middle of the hall. While picking himself up off the ground, he spotted the offending item, a black duffel bag. His sleep-addled brain tried to figure out why it was in the middle of the hall but he shrugged it off and kicked it out of his way. He entered the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal. Halfway through the bowl of cheerios it hit him. He dropped the spoon, leaped out of his chair and ran upstairs. He looked at the calendar on his desk. No, no, no this has to be wrong no, no, no. It was Tuesday November 22, two days before thanksgiving and his peaceful, empty house was being invaded by the worst thing… his family.