They came to my house last night.
I was downstairs, behind my wall of boxes, when the drum started. There was an immediate smashing of the door followed by a prickling of glass on my wooden floor.
They didn’t waste any time. They knew exactly where to look.
The floor ached and buckled as they moved across my living room. There was more than one. The door to my basement had a lock on the outside. I wanted to barricade the door when the drum first started, but I knew that would be suspicious. They would know that someone was down here trying to hide. Snowy started to whine when she heard the ceiling bend. I whispered to her that she didn’t have to worry.
They didn’t want to kill her.
It took a few minutes of scuffling and smashing before they made it to the basement. I covered my dog’s mouth and pointed my shotgun at the boxes. The wall of junk looked real to me, but who knew how particular their observations would be.
If this was the end, I’d fire every shot into the darkness. They kill quick and without mercy. It’d be a fast death.
I heard them walk up to my hiding spot. Their bodies were scrapping against things, knocking things over as if they couldn’t control themselves. The clatter would have been comical if the situation weren’t so dire.
They didn’t pause at the wall or give it a second glance. I watched them through the moonlit cracks in the boxes. I wanted to see more of them, but it was so dark.
There were two of them. The smaller one was more shadowy and harder to focus on. I think it had a white face, but I couldn’t pick out any details to it. I recognized that gold skeleton beneath its shadow. The big one looked bulky, like there was some sort of hidden armor to its form. It had a long fleshy colored claw that dragged on the ground, like a strip of uncooked meat. It looked obscenely crude in comparison to its fabric-like body.
They paced around the basement like two violent clouds. After scouring every surface, they left in one quick flurry.
I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
I spent the morning surveying the damages and moving things around. I couldn’t fix the doors or windows. They’d know I was here. I’d have to reevaluate my living space.
This is quite the price to pay for a reflection.
Here is where you can find Days 1 – 100 from the Greenland Diaries. They sort of introduce you to the series. I publish them once a week. You can learn more about the Greenland Diaries here. Thank you for reading.