The small town Storten hadn't noticed the situation. Why would they seeing none in the community slept for over one-hundred and seventy hours. Of everything, how could townsfolk possible understand the present dilemma, for certainly a grand, most profound, never happened prior desolative spirit would befall upon it in the next twenty-seven minutes. So, the story was to unfold, had any of the eight hundred inhabitants known such an event, changing their lives, not one would even remain remotely their prior self because of it, but could recognize firstly there'd be an abrupt shift in the towns temperate, and second most would start hacking away their neighbor with any possible tools quickest at hand, while in such a place meant nearly anything from lawnmowers to skillet pans, to naturally the uncountable amount of firearms, each resident possessed, legally and not. But something changed all that.