Charlie held the knife firmly in his hand. He stood, slightly crouched, peering carefully around the wall of his living room and out the window.
Where is it? he thought to himself, scanning the short distance from the start of the backyard to the thick woods beyond.
He had been in the middle of cooking a late dinner consisting of macaroni and cheese. Very classy, indeed. The truth was, he had lost track of time playing video games for the past six hours and was desperate for anything edible. He had wanted to get back to his TV and finish the game he was playing with little delay.
But that had suddenly changed as the pot of water was heating up and he wandered over to the oversized window that stretched horizontally across most of the exterior wall of the living room. He had... seen something. Whatever it was was looking right at him. Its eyes had reflected the light of the house, but only for a second or two. Then it was gone.
As Charlie glanced from corner to corner of the yard, now armed with a steak knife that had been sitting on the counter, he started to hear a loud sizzling from the kitchen. He had forgotten to turn off the stove, and the boiling water for his dinner was overflowing onto the burner. He glanced one more time outside before backing into the kitchen.
Burner off and stovetop now clean, he turned to head back to the living room. As he glanced in front of him, he thought he saw... no. It must have been one of his eyelashes causing a shadow. Charlie thought he saw a man. In his living room. But that was impossible! All of the doors and windows had been locked all day. And besides, he had only captured a glimpse of something... someone. And then he was gone. Completely, without any trace of his presence.
It must have been an eyelash.
He walked carefully back to the window. As he was looking out into the area of a tall maple tree to his left, a flashlight suddenly turned on below it. The light was pointing immediately at the ground in front of a very tall, very formally-dressed man. Charlie's eyes widened as the man brought the flashlight up to his own face. He was pale, in his mid-fourties, with slicked-back black hair to match his black suit and black tie.
And that smile. The mysterious man's smile had a dark, almost sinister curl to it. His teeth shined brightly in the light of the flashlight. His eyes were staring directly at Charlie.
I've seen enough, Charlie thought, almost shouting it out loud. A weird man trespassing in his backyard was enough to warrant a call to the cops. He reached into the right pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone, looking down only to dial 9-1-1 and send the call.
As he put the phone up to his ear, he looked back at the man outside.
"What... what are you doing?" Charlie could not help himself from saying these words out loud as he tried to make out what the man was doing now. The man had not moved from his spot by the tree. Instead, the hand not holding the flashlight was now raised, finger extended. He was pointing at something. Pointing at Charlie... or near him? Charlie squinted to see.
He was pointing behind Charlie. Right behind him.
Chills spread throughout Charlie's body as he slowly, gradually turned his neck.
There he was. The man he thought he saw not a minute ago in his living room. He was right behind him.
Charlie jumped instinctively, backing himself into the window quickly. This man was also dressed in a black suit with a black tie. But this stranger was not smiling. His finger was pulled to his lips, motioning for Charlie to remain quiet. Charlie wanted to do anything other than be quiet. Someone help, he thought. A late UPS driver, or a friend wanting to chill, or anyone! Please, anything to help get me away from this... stranger!
"9-1-1, what is the location of your emergency?"
He had forgotten! His phone was still to his ear, and he had already dialed 911. Charlie opened his mouth to speak, but something about the intensity of the man before him gave him pause. His expression was stern, but not violent. Almost... concerned.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
Charlie closed his mouth once more. What am I doing?
"If you are unable to speak and need emergency assistance, please tap the mic of your phone three times."
Charlie didn't dare raise his other hand to his phone to comply. In all honesty, he was finding it hard to do anything other than remain perfectly paralyzed. His eyes returned the gaze of the stranger in front of him.
"We have triangulated the signal of your cell phone. I am sending a police car to your location to do a welfare check. He will be there in about five minutes. I will hang up now, but if there is still an emergency and you are able to speak, call back." Click.
Charlie lowered his cell phone slowly, keeping it in his hand. The stranger glanced at his phone, then back at him. When he spoke, his voice was deep, professional, and alert.
"How long do I have?" He clearly knew he had called for help, and that it was coming whether or not Charlie said anything. No sense in lying.
"A... a few minutes. She said five. They're gonna send a car to do a welfare check," Charlie blurted out quickly, his back remaining on the glass of the window, afraid to move. The man motioned for Charlie to follow him as he backed away, moving quickly for the front of the house.
"We don't have much time, then. It's time to go."
"...Go? What... go where?"
"With us," said the stranger, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought quickly. "We need you to come with us. My colleague will meet us out front. Don't worry, you won't be harmed."
Well, that's comforting. Then why the hell did you sneak into my house? Charlie wanted to ask. He decided to try a different approach as they reached the front door.
"Who are you?"
"Earlier, when you were hoping for someone to arrive and interrupt this interaction, you called me a stranger. That will do for now. I am the Stranger. And I am here to help you before it is too late."
Where is it? he thought to himself, scanning the short distance from the start of the backyard to the thick woods beyond.
He had been in the middle of cooking a late dinner consisting of macaroni and cheese. Very classy, indeed. The truth was, he had lost track of time playing video games for the past six hours and was desperate for anything edible. He had wanted to get back to his TV and finish the game he was playing with little delay.
But that had suddenly changed as the pot of water was heating up and he wandered over to the oversized window that stretched horizontally across most of the exterior wall of the living room. He had... seen something. Whatever it was was looking right at him. Its eyes had reflected the light of the house, but only for a second or two. Then it was gone.
As Charlie glanced from corner to corner of the yard, now armed with a steak knife that had been sitting on the counter, he started to hear a loud sizzling from the kitchen. He had forgotten to turn off the stove, and the boiling water for his dinner was overflowing onto the burner. He glanced one more time outside before backing into the kitchen.
Burner off and stovetop now clean, he turned to head back to the living room. As he glanced in front of him, he thought he saw... no. It must have been one of his eyelashes causing a shadow. Charlie thought he saw a man. In his living room. But that was impossible! All of the doors and windows had been locked all day. And besides, he had only captured a glimpse of something... someone. And then he was gone. Completely, without any trace of his presence.
It must have been an eyelash.
He walked carefully back to the window. As he was looking out into the area of a tall maple tree to his left, a flashlight suddenly turned on below it. The light was pointing immediately at the ground in front of a very tall, very formally-dressed man. Charlie's eyes widened as the man brought the flashlight up to his own face. He was pale, in his mid-fourties, with slicked-back black hair to match his black suit and black tie.
And that smile. The mysterious man's smile had a dark, almost sinister curl to it. His teeth shined brightly in the light of the flashlight. His eyes were staring directly at Charlie.
I've seen enough, Charlie thought, almost shouting it out loud. A weird man trespassing in his backyard was enough to warrant a call to the cops. He reached into the right pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone, looking down only to dial 9-1-1 and send the call.
As he put the phone up to his ear, he looked back at the man outside.
"What... what are you doing?" Charlie could not help himself from saying these words out loud as he tried to make out what the man was doing now. The man had not moved from his spot by the tree. Instead, the hand not holding the flashlight was now raised, finger extended. He was pointing at something. Pointing at Charlie... or near him? Charlie squinted to see.
He was pointing behind Charlie. Right behind him.
Chills spread throughout Charlie's body as he slowly, gradually turned his neck.
There he was. The man he thought he saw not a minute ago in his living room. He was right behind him.
Charlie jumped instinctively, backing himself into the window quickly. This man was also dressed in a black suit with a black tie. But this stranger was not smiling. His finger was pulled to his lips, motioning for Charlie to remain quiet. Charlie wanted to do anything other than be quiet. Someone help, he thought. A late UPS driver, or a friend wanting to chill, or anyone! Please, anything to help get me away from this... stranger!
"9-1-1, what is the location of your emergency?"
He had forgotten! His phone was still to his ear, and he had already dialed 911. Charlie opened his mouth to speak, but something about the intensity of the man before him gave him pause. His expression was stern, but not violent. Almost... concerned.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
Charlie closed his mouth once more. What am I doing?
"If you are unable to speak and need emergency assistance, please tap the mic of your phone three times."
Charlie didn't dare raise his other hand to his phone to comply. In all honesty, he was finding it hard to do anything other than remain perfectly paralyzed. His eyes returned the gaze of the stranger in front of him.
"We have triangulated the signal of your cell phone. I am sending a police car to your location to do a welfare check. He will be there in about five minutes. I will hang up now, but if there is still an emergency and you are able to speak, call back." Click.
Charlie lowered his cell phone slowly, keeping it in his hand. The stranger glanced at his phone, then back at him. When he spoke, his voice was deep, professional, and alert.
"How long do I have?" He clearly knew he had called for help, and that it was coming whether or not Charlie said anything. No sense in lying.
"A... a few minutes. She said five. They're gonna send a car to do a welfare check," Charlie blurted out quickly, his back remaining on the glass of the window, afraid to move. The man motioned for Charlie to follow him as he backed away, moving quickly for the front of the house.
"We don't have much time, then. It's time to go."
"...Go? What... go where?"
"With us," said the stranger, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought quickly. "We need you to come with us. My colleague will meet us out front. Don't worry, you won't be harmed."
Well, that's comforting. Then why the hell did you sneak into my house? Charlie wanted to ask. He decided to try a different approach as they reached the front door.
"Who are you?"
"Earlier, when you were hoping for someone to arrive and interrupt this interaction, you called me a stranger. That will do for now. I am the Stranger. And I am here to help you before it is too late."