The Lonesome Adventurer

You turn off the TV and put on your coat, then head out the door. You get about 200 feet away from your house when it starts to drizzle. You turn around because you forgot your umbrella, but someone stands inbetween you and your house, their face completely hidden from your view because of the long, black hooded cloak that they’re wearing. “Weird, who would be crazy enough to be out in this weather? Hey,” you call out to the stranger, “did you just move into the neighborhood, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” They just stand there, silent. “Hey!” You yell impatiently over the now pouring rain. You start to move closer to them, only to be grabbed from behind, your cry never escaping your mouth because of the hand that is clamped over your mouth. Seconds later your body is laying limp in the road, your neck broken, never to see the daylight again.