"Demons are behind this."

You convince yourself that there is no way that these entities are your wife and child. You storm out of the house like a bat out of hell. You board the car, zooming as fast as you can away from that cursed house.

"Should I drink this?"

"Maybe I should rest"

At 80 miles per hour, your mind was far off the road. You reach the town but it was too late to regain control of the wheel. You swerve to the wrong lane on to oncoming cars until you crash into a tree.

You wake up after a few minutes. Blood is trickling from your forehead, you can taste it in your mouth. You get out of the car and try to find someone who can help. Oddly, the entire town is quiet— spare for the ominous whispers of winter. "It's already late after all," you thought.

You find a spot to take a rest, and your eyes light up upon seeing a half bottle of your ever-reliable friend Jack. You pick it up and think...