"You sit on the couch, unsure of what to do as evening approaches. You're nervous, aware that no matter what time it is Grenda might be watching, maybe about to enter or even already in your home. You almost never see her coming, her entrances as silent as the shadows she travels to. Suddenly you hear a little scratching noise from the kitchen. You tense and look intensely in thay direction. A few moments later, a big clawed hand grasps on the doorframe of the living room."