Vile Visitors

A small step towards the door was all I needed to recognize I had been found. Shadows danced interrupting the slanted beams of light which shone underneath. A silent song of inspiration no doubt fueled their chaotic form. My memory escaped for just a moment taking me back to childhood; watching my eldest sister perform at her recitals. She moved with such elegance and precision, an entrancing display of human expression practiced to perfection. These devilish guests made no efforts to impress. 

A drift of red pooled into the light. I feared the worst and knew better than to hold fast to hope. I would receive no aid from others in this trial. Deep breaths were all I could afford to keep the pounding of my own heart from bursting out of my chest. This was not the time to panic. 

“Splendid feast! Splendid libation!” A cackly voice uttered beyond. “To health! To health!” The wet slurp of ravenous mouths descending on the mess followed. It was left to my imagination to picture the grotesque banquet being made of my house mate. Cracking bones, ripping sinew, sloppy pops of organs and a chewing most savage were all I could hear. This went on for some time. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks, the steadying of my breath to match the unfavorable orchestral horror would keep my presence masked. Or so that was the hope. After some time, the sound of wet footsteps no doubt armed with unnatural claws clattered about the room beyond. 

“More! There is more!” The voice exclaimed. “Two came in, none came out! We search, we find, we look about!” The speed at which the strangers moved throughout the house was alarming. We did not live in a mansion by any means, but the three bedroom single floor home was combed rapturously. It was to my good fortune that they hadn’t yet bothered with the closet in which I hid. Be it some strange enchantment or otherwise mysterious magic that protected me, I did not know. I kept considering producing my phone and risking a call to emergency services. Any noise beyond breathing seemed incredibly foolish. I would wait. 

After some time, shadows danced upon the light under the door again. I couldn’t describe with adequate eloquence precisely what their presence felt like but know this- a sense beyond typical human capacity gave warning in my heart so dire that it would have shaken a dead man from the grave. Even in near darkness, the corners of my vision tunneled. A single red stained toenail of unsavory length dug into the tile just beneath the doorway. Hungry sniffles and snorts investigated all around the handle and lock. 

“A door! A door!” The voice proclaimed. “Another room perhaps! Another room with snacks!” Shuffling and the clatter of claws on hardwood approached. More sniffs. More grunts. yet no attempt at the knob nor lock. Fear turned into puzzling. My curiosities were not so strong as to remove the caution which guided my actions, however I could not help but to wonder now if these guests could see. In the event that they were blind, I could safely operate my cellphone without giving away my position. A tempting avenue of potential escape. It occurred to me that police services had recently made posts on the city website revealing that they now had a text option for occasions such as this. Not \*exactly\* like this mind you, but for times when speaking aloud would endanger the caller. As the grunting continued, I chanced a reach for my pocket. I had been wearing long sleeves and even the brushing of their fabric against the side of my coat seemed to excite the uninvited investigators. 

“A sound! A sound! A rat perhaps! Small or big, a tasty snack!” Cackling followed the poetic outburst. Their persistent sniffing was now accompanied by scratches at the door. Even with this new found excitement they did not try the handle. I now held my phone and heaved a silent sigh before activating the screen. A light to rival the sun lit up the small room. It took a great deal of self control not to drop the damn thing. I had been showing my housemate some videos I had taken of a job site earlier and had the brightness all the way up. The panic that had otherwise set in was eased somewhat as I took note that the flash of light hadn’t spurned the ghouls at my doorway any further. They continued as they had been in their questionably effective investigational methodology. 

Taking this opportunity now, I tapped as lightly as I could and navigated through the city services app for the emergency tab. The mobile version was not as intuitive as one should hope but I found my way to the page I searched for. 

“Alone it lingers! Tap, tap, tap!” This voice was lower but no less enthusiastic as the other. “Fingers on something flat I hear within the trap!” Another bout of shuffling. The first voice spoke again; 

“Idle as it is, perhaps it needs some help! Open this door now, and let us see the whelp!” I paused. I waited. I stared directly at the handle. Nothing. No movement, no turning, no sign of any effort on their end. Furrowing my brows, my eyes drifted back down to my phone screen. I typed out a vague description concerning my present circumstances, my address, and the rather urgent need for immediate intervention. Having now sent my request, I turned the light of the screen to the door handle and continued to watch. Their sniffing had ceased, the shadows under the doorway were now still. My mind temporarily entertained the idea that perhaps a broom or mop handle would suffice as a melee tool. In the event that I had to fight for a short while before help arrived, it would be better than nothing. As careful as I could, keeping my feet still, I swiveled my torso about and peered behind me. I knew we kept a broom in here but it was shorter than I had recalled. No matter- it would do. I reached a free hand behind me and wrapped my fingers tightly around the handle. The excitement of my guests now roused once again. 

“It waits! It waits! Perhaps for us to leave! The tapping now has ceased, yet it hasn’t ceased to breathe!” A rather harsh shoving sound followed by a gasping breath moved the shadows beneath the door. 

“Give it no ideas, give it no escape! Lest we miss our meal and face such a terrible fate!” The lower voice chided. What I could only describe as a voiceless bicker now ensued. The patting of skin on skin, odd chirps, grunting, wordless murmurs made by scratching on tile and carpet. An entire conversation without a single word mixed with physical altercations. I did not particularly wish to see what was happening however it would be a lie to claim I was not at all curious. A loud thump nearly caused me to leap from my bones. One of them had been forced into the door quite violently. A terrible smell accompanied the impact to which I repressed a gag. Wet ashes, urine stains, fecal aromatics and animal rot filled my nostrils.  And iron. The fresh stench of pooling red iron no doubt from my housemate's blood they now danced in. Finally, they spoke. 

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do!” The higher voice shrieked. “If it were up to me, I’d have already eaten you!” Another squabble and melee intermission occurred before the lower voice responded. 

“Eat me? Oh you wish! I’d be the finer dish! But you would taste like fish! Now instead, you’ll taste my fist!” Needless to say their brawling continued. I switched my phone now to photo mode, turning the selfie camera on. I had the idea to angle the screen beneath the doorway and hope the camera could show me as to what the fiends looked like, where in the next room they were, etc. To my misfortune and disappointment, the lights were too bright in juxtaposition to the dark of the closet I hid in to allow the camera to focus clearly. I messed around with some of the settings, finding a brightness compensator of sorts and adjusted it accordingly. I tried again, kneeling down and aiming the camera into the room. 

A pair of dark eyes looked directly into the lens, a long crooked nose hooked just off the screen. I jumped up in fright, having failed to notice their tiff had come to a halt. 

“It sees us now still waiting, its magic mirror sees!” A growling whisper breathed under the doorway. “Perhaps it thinks we are cursed? Or that we carry a disease! No matter what it's thinking, no matter if it flees, our tongues into its eyeballs will be the last thing that it sees!” A chorus of cackling much louder than before filled the air, their jubilant expressions beginning to tear away at my sanity. But still, I waited. Their breathing increased more excitedly in the otherwise silent moment. I began to wonder if perhaps there was something preventing them from just opening the door themselves. The temptation to say something was now growing evermore fervently. I could just wait. Undoubtedly within a few minutes, emergency services would be at my door and draw their attention. All it would take is time, and time I seemed to have. Surely the sound of approaching sirens would be enough to cause them a panic and leave me be. But curiosity got the best of me. 

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice far less confident than I would have liked. 

“A voice! A voice! It finally responds!” One replied. “It must be like the other, to a man this voice belongs!” A shared laugh echoed between the two before the other spoke. 

“A rat trapped in a corner! A finer feast indeed! Let’s now hear how it begs us, how it beckons and it pleads!” I could hear them sniffing quite fervently around the door again. While their words weren’t exactly calming, my suspicions that they, for some reason, weren’t able to get to me felt reassured. I drew a breath and tried to calm myself before speaking again. 

“I don’t know who you are, obviously, but I also don’t recall inviting you in. What the hell are you doing in my house?” They both seemed to gasp and mutter some guttural nonsense to one another. 

“It’s rude! How rude! And such an attitude! The first was full of screaming, but this rudeness shall not do!” The lower voice chided. 

“We must get it to open the door before us now! And cease this filthy language, but how? But how?” More scuffles followed and I couldn’t help but notice they were bumping the door and scratching at it with whatever claws they had. It didn’t make sense- why couldn’t they just turn the knob? They had gotten into the house when my housemate initially answered the front door thinking it was our food being delivered. I had presumed, after hearing a chorus of screams and cackling, that we had an intruder and hid myself in here. I hadn’t gotten a good look at them, save for the glance just recently from my phone camera, so whatever physical build they possessed on the whole still remained a mystery. I’d gamble another go of inquiry, confident rescue was soon to arrive. 

“Whatever you are doing clearly isn’t working so why don’t you just fuck off?” I called. Silence. A huff or two followed. One of them seemed to clatter away for a moment then the screaming started. 

“It taunts us, it insults, it fights with its words! Such prattling is needless, these ill meant words do hurt!” The higher voice shrieked. 

“Impenetrable is this fortress which leaves us in this plight! At first we feasted like queens of old, shall we now hunger for the night?” The other cried back. 

“We dare not ask it questions, as it now does to us! Unless you think it wise, shall we ask like it did first?” They both began to hum and grumble. After some time, the lower voice cleared its throat. There was an odd warbling noise that followed after then in a softer tone it began to speak. 

“Down in the dark you seem to be hid, but we both know what resides behind this lid, smooth, made of wood, a barrier great! So open, open, open! Open your castle gate! And join your lost companion, you can see what else we ate!” I could feel, needless to say, that this was a trap. Part of me wanted to continue this game but the resolve to survive and take advantage of their inability to work a door handle prevailed. 

“No.” 

My response wasn’t met well. Scurrying, screaming, scratching at the floor, at the door, curses in a language I didn’t recognize, etc. Oddly enough, as terrifying as the racket was, I felt relieved. That is until there was a knock from afar. No sirens had accompanied it so I knew it wasn’t law enforcement. The front door hadn’t been shut again after our unwelcome guests entered the home since my housemate was dead. They had clearly gotten in and the last thing I heard from my friend was “Holy shit, what the fuck? Run! Hide!” Or something to that effect. Whoever this was must have knocked on the wall next to the door. Then it occurred to me- our food order. 

Why I didn’t think to text our driver and cancel is beyond me. The whole ordeal was short. I heard a panicked “WHAT THE FUCK?!” Followed by cackling and a terrible cacophony of chaos. As dark as this is, I was grateful to have a moment without their persistent pursuit. I thought to leave the closet and head for the backdoor but the new found security of staying there overtook the instinct to run. Nevertheless it wasn't more than a few minutes till they returned. I could hear the clawed clatter of their feet approach once more, gasping and heaving breaths filled the air. 

“A nice meal, a better feel, the bags were gross but we await our host!” The lower voice growled. 

“True this is, I feel most fine! I cannot wait till this new flesh is mine!” And then nothing. Silence. There’s no way they had left. Surely they just stood there waiting for me to make another noise. I figured, since help was surely on the way, what was the harm in entertaining my present circumstances?

“How’d that go?” I offered. 

“It speaks! It squeaks! Within it remains! Even after our feast, it continues to entertain!” This was the higher voice again. Some shuffling followed. The lower now answered; 

“Patient we must be, for more friends it may bring. With some time in passing, they will too feel our sting.” 

“An excellent point! This feast will be strong! The longer we wait, the more meals come along!” 

It was at this point that I began to ponder if indeed the inevitable bullet storm that would follow the arrival of the police would suffice to slay these intruders. Clearly they were of some fantastical origin, the rules of their existence foreign to me. I ran the tropes of slaying anomalies through my head (from a traditional understanding) and quite frankly I doubted that silver, iron, holy water or oils would be within the arsenal of my supposed rescuers. The thought to text the help line again with more accurate details of my situation crossed my mind but not before I heard the sirens. They’d be here soon. Dispatch would no doubt have more questions and God knows the odds of them actually taking whatever warnings I offered seriously were next to none. Ah well. I chose to stand there and let events play out for themselves. 

The roar of vehicles growled to a halt. Several doors opened and feet clamored about the pavement outside. A loud speaker beckoned shortly after. 

“This is Clatsop County Police Department! We know you are in there! Come out with your hands up!” My visitors gasped excitedly. 

“New friends! New meals! How many draw near? Let us go and see what food has come here!” Shuffling. Shouting. Shooting. Lots of shooting. Some strange noises and predictable swearing. Then quiet. I heaved a sigh. I reached for the door accepting that this was it. Either the police had killed my assailants or the assailants had eaten their fill. As I turned the knob I heard heavy footsteps enter the house. I could choose to stay in this closet for what could be forever or just face my fate and be done with it. I chose the latter. With a twist of the knob, one final prayer, I stepped out. 

My eyes were met with a blinding light. Within moments I was forced to the ground and cuffed. I felt more relieved than I think I ever had in my life, even with the amount of pain that accompanied these actions. Several individuals flooded into the house, darting this way and that. Once they had cleared the place I was lifted to my feet and a rather perplexed officer looked me in the eyes with a vexation I mirrored just minutes ago. 

“Are you the one who sent the emergency text?” He asked short of breath. 

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you the home owner?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Are you aware that there is a dead body in your kitchen?” 

“I assumed as much.” 

“Do you know what the fuck we just shot dead in your driveway?” 

“I was hoping you could tell me.” 

“Ok. Come take a look. I’m not banking on you having more information for us here, but I will need you to come to the station for an interview so we can file a report.” I nodded and we headed for the door. 

To my good fortune, bullets did seem to work. There was a great deal of blood and bits of flesh decorating the garage door. Two figures of a most grotesque design lay in red pools. Long legs and pale flesh, stringy hair and ghastly faces. But no arms. I couldn’t help but to laugh. The talons on their feet were atrociously vile. Killing tools of a nature most foul. But no arms. No hands. No fingers. No wonder they couldn’t open the door.