I. The Square Peg
There was nothing outwardly special about the house. It was old. It was in Vermont, and it often found itself being rented out to people who enjoyed skiing and putting maple syrup on everything. Tonight something else was going on inside. What that something was was secret, and the current inhabitants had gone to great lengths to ensure that it would remain that way.
A nameless man, who was minding his own business and at the same time guarding the rear door to the house thought he heard something but then decided he had been mistaken.