27 Nov The Intruders
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"The Intruders"Written by
Estimated reading time — 5 minutes
I’m a bit of a light sleeper, so any noise at all will wake me up. It’s part of the reason I live alone. I don’t want some roommate waking me up in the middle of the night. But because of that night, I wish I had one.
I was awoken by the quiet sound of the window at the foot of my bed sliding quickly open. This was especially strange because my bedroom was on the second floor. My eyes absorbed the light of the lava lamp on my bedside table and let me see two feet lead the rest of a man’s body onto the carpet. I tried to lay as still as possible, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. He turned around and shut the window, and then felt frantically around the top to find a lock. Unfortunately for him, the lock he was looking for didn’t exist. The window began to open again and he stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground. I started to pull the covers up over my face as slowly as I could as to not attract any attention, but he turned his wide, fearful eyes over to me. My heart stopped and I began shaking rapidly. He took something out of his pocket and threw it at me. It bounced loudly off the wall behind me and landed on my leg. I looked at it and realized that it was a small black pistol. Some motion at the window grabbed my attention and I shifted my gaze to another person entering the room.
Actually, I just lied. The thing entering the house was not a person, in the sense that it was not human. What first gave it away was the fact that it didn’t have a foot, its leg ended instead in something similar to a hoof. It was much to skinny to be a human, too. As it climbed inside I could finally see its head, which was enormous. The small amount of light illuminated its huge black eyes.
By this time I was hyperventilating. The thing, which I assumed was an alien, snapped its head over to look at me, and then turned back to look at the man. It took a step forward and the man jumped up onto his feet.
“Shoot it! They want to kidnap me!” he whisper-yelled.
The thing looked back at me. “No! Don’t shoot anyone!” it said in a startlingly human voice. Its suggestion sounded pretty good to me. I didn’t want to shoot anyone, but I also felt compelled to help the one that was a member of my own species.
The thing jumped at the man and tackled him. It pinned him to the ground and punched him twice, but he grabbed its three-fingered hand the third time and twisted it to the side.
“Aargh!” came the scream of pain from the creature.
I sat up and grabbed the gun. I aimed at the alien, but I couldn’t decide if I wanted to shoot.
The human pushed the alien off of him and got back onto his feet. He roundhouse kicked it and it almost fell over. The thing steadied itself on the wall and grabbed the man by his neck and hurled him at the opposite wall. He crashed into and almost went through it, destroying the inside part of the wall. To my surprise, he pushed himself out and ran towards the alien, but it grabbed him again and threw him headfirst into my dresser. His head broke through the wood but somehow he shoved the whole dresser away, and the wood broke again as his head came out. He punched the alien again, sending it sprawling onto its back. It was evident now that the man was just as inhuman as his opponent. That’s how he was able to get into my second floor room! I pointed the gun at him now. I still don’t know if I had the intention of pulling the trigger.
He, or more likely it, saw me do this. Its face twisted in rage and it leapt at me with incredible speed. I fired the pistol without any thought moments before he hit me. It was knocked back by the velocity and impact of the bullet, and I dropped the gun because of the recoil. Red blood sprayed from its face and covered mine. The noise was deafening and my ears would be ringing for what seemed like forever.
At this time a blinding light came in through the same window that they did. My eyes adjusted in seconds, but theirs didn’t. As the alien had large eyes, its pupils took longer to shrink. Since its whole eye was a black pupil, the skin actually started to grow over the outside edges of its eyes. As I had guessed, the one that looked human took just as long to adjust for the same reason. I took that opportunity to grab the hardcover copy of Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons from the bedside table. While the fake human covered its eyes, I brought the book down on its head with as much force as I could. It was knocked back a small amount. If it could survive a bullet, this probably didn’t even tickle. But it was enough, and the other was able to grab it while it was still uncoordinated.
The alien ripped something of the back of the human look-alike’s head and it morphed into what looked like the same thing as the other. Defeated, but not quite dead, it went limp in its opponent’s grasp.
The original alien looked at me and nodded. “Thank you. You’ve helped bring a criminal to justice.” And with that the light disappeared and so did they. I was left sitting on my bed with a gun and two holes; one in the wall, and one in my dresser.
I picked up the gun and stood up. I walked as silently as possible towards the door and went through it into the hallway. After searching my entire house, I concluded that they truly had left.
I trotted back upstairs and into the bathroom. Placing the pistol on the counter, I turned on the sink and washed the thing’s blood off my face. I got a towel out of the closet and dried my face off, then went back into my room. I told myself I should go back to sleep. Maybe I would wake up and this would all just be a nightmare.
Of course, I spent the rest of the night huddled in the corner of the room, my eyes wide open the whole time. I didn’t get any sleep for the next two nights, no matter how hard I tried or how tired I was. My eyes just kept drifting over to my broken dresser or the massive hole in the wall. I didn’t go to work and the gun was never more than a foot away.
Just as it was then, my greatest fear is that I will see one of those creatures again.
I finally left the house on the third day and went to a furniture store, where I bought a new dresser to replace the damaged one. I should be thankful that no one questioned why I was wearing a backpack and what was inside, or else they might have found the pistol at the bottom of the bag. I was finally able to get almost two hours of sleep that night.
The next day I called a repair company to fix the hole, and they came the day after that and took only a few hours to patch it up and repaint it. One of them asked me how the hole got there. I told him it was there when I got home from work, and I didn’t know what caused it. He gave me a skeptical look but left that matter alone after that.
I didn’t like lying to him, but what was I supposed to do? Tell him that a fight between two aliens resulted in a human-sized hole in the wall?
I found the courage to leave the gun at home and go to work three days later. My boss and coworkers asked a lot of questions, so I told them that I had been sick and didn’t feel well enough to get to the phone and call in. It wasn’t a very believable story, but fortunately they bought it.
Life was semi-normal again. The incident never left my mind, though. I stop my work sometimes and think, even though I never want to think about it. I’ll find myself not paying attention to the TV and reliving that night in my head. That thing will appear in my vision when it’s not really there. Something like that never really ends.
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