Chapter Text
It had only been a few days since the world I used to know changed completely. It felt like a fever dream. Nobody’s adjusted to it yet—I sure haven’t. I was hoping to get a full night’s—or day’s—rest, but that hope was cut short when I awoke to the sound of three short knocks on my front door.
I rolled over, half awake, and planted my feet on the wooden floorboards. I opened my bedroom door, and glanced out the window next to me. I saw my neighbor and his young, probably around 7-year-old daughter playing in their backyard. My heart ached seeing them so joyful, seeming to not give a care in the world even though at any moment a visitor could murder either of them. It made me feel lonely, although that’s not anyone’s fault but myself. I glanced to the other side of the hallway, pushing my gaze to a small wooden desk. Inside a dusty frame that sat on the desk, there was a picture of a woman with long blonde hair. I sighed, but before I had time to linger on the ‘what-if’s,’ there was another knock on my door.
I shut the blinds, and walked over to the front door. My hand hesitated over the doorknob. The air coming from outside felt…colder than normal. Which was saying quite a bit considering the sun was practically baking us alive during the day, while during the night I always woke up in my sleep to a pool of my own sweat. It reminded me of my childhood. The days I would stay home from school, lying in the same bed I still do 20 years later, in a feverish daze trying my hardest to stay awake. I shook my head, pushing away the memories, and opened the door.
A wave of cool air washed over me, and I stepped back. The person standing before me was an…unusal sight to see, to say the least. He was bundled from head to toe in an outfit that would be appropriate for going snowboarding. He gripped his sides, holding a large, brown winter coat close to his body. Underneath his coat, I saw a fuzzy green turtleneck, and what looked like a handmade scarf of the same color. His dark, almost ebony blue hair shone in the moonlight. It reached just below his ears, and he had slight window bangs framing his face.
“H-hello,” He muttered, mouth partially covered by the large scarf, “The heat doesn't b-bother me. I'm just looking for a quiet place to rest.”
‘The heat doesn’t bother me?’ I think to myself, what, is he sick or something?
Although, his pale blue skin and constant shivering wasn’t helping his case.
“Might I find some peace in your home…?” He broke the few seconds of silence, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I stared into his eyes, although they were hard to see this late at night. I was scanning him for signs of being a visitor, but so far he looked normal. Besides the giant coat.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice full of skepticism
“It doesn't m-matter anymore. Are you wondering if I'm a Visitor?” He shivered, “I'm n-not. But I do have a request.”
I crossed my arms, still suspicious, but intrigued
He glanced away, and I could see him fidgeting with the zipper of his coat
“I’ll…ask you later,” he mumbled, “I'm not sure I can tr-trust you with it yet.”
Him? Trust me? Isn’t he the one looking for shelter? I sighed, and tapped my foot. What
was the point of bringing it up in the first place if he wasn’t going to tell me?
“You said the heat doesn’t bother you?” I narrowed my eyes
“I’m always c-cold” He shivered, “Others b-burn in the sun. I wrap myself in layers and still feel on the verge of fr-freezing,” He wrapped the coat tighter around himself, “I’m afraid to take my layers off. What if it just gets worse? And there’s no d-death to ease the suffering?”
Always cold, huh? What the hell? Either this man is a liar, or he's fucking delusional. Or… he's a visitor. My brows furrowed, severely skeptical.
“I-i know it sounds crazy… but pl-please. Just trust me” he pleaded.
Part of me felt… sympathetic? What, so now I feel bad for someone who's obviously lying? I rub my temples before speaking.
“Okay, fine. Just come in, but don't think I trust you even a bit. Anything sketchy when I wake up, and you're dead.”
His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. The corners of his lips shift into sort of a smile, although it seemed unnatural—like this was the first time he's smiled in… well… as long as he could remember.
“Thank you… r-really. I won't be much of a burden, j-just need a quiet place to rest”
I smile slightly, finding his joy kind of amusing. I open the door further, letting him walk inside. Despite how tired he looks, he seems to have a slight skip in his step, practically bouncing up the steps and into the door. I guide him to the living room, where he takes a seat right in the middle of the large sofa at the back of the room. I say nothing as I shut the door, and walk a few feet to my bedroom. I climb back into my covers, still warm from when I was laying before. I shut my eyes and slowly fade back out of consciousness.
It's going to be a long few weeks.