Nothing ever happened. For years, everything had gone exactly the same as it had a hundred years before. Every morning, at precisely 8:30, everyone opened their doors and windows to the new morning. At 9:15, shops were opened and social life officially began at 9:20. Lunch was at an early 1:30 and dinner at a staggeringly late 5:00. When the sun set, shops were closed and all doors and windows were barred. Times ranged based on the setting of the sun, but sunset was always the time to go home.
It might seem odd to a stranger, watching this daily ritual. Everything moved like clockwork, beginning and ending exactly when they were meant to. This was a mandatory thing, an accepted thing, from everyone. For children who yearned to be rebels and stay out past sunset, their parents would advise against it, adding another lock to the door.
Some say that this all began as a safeguard against demons, others as a way to prevent crime. Only a few could remember the truth, the real reason why windows were barred and doors were locked. Every full moon, a shiver crawled up every spine in Baskerville as they were reminded of their neighbor: the werewolf, the Hound.