Mary remembered when people were always knocking on her door. She’d been much younger then, of course, and so much of her family had still been alive, and so many of her friends and acquaintances still lived in Greendale. But one by one people died or left and there was less and less people to visit. So much so that when she heard the knock at her door, it made her jump. But then, things had been making her jump a bit more than usual lately, as if she felt a presence constantly looming over, threatening her, even in the comfort of her own home.
Hearing the knock again, she called out a quiet “I--uh, c-coming, I’m coming” before standing out of her chair and going to the door, opening it to find a very unfamiliar face on her doorstep.