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Summary
Plato once defined humans as "featherless bipeds," and, looking at that thing in your backyard, you suppose the only category you could put it in is: technically human. Its huge, sunken sockets make its eyes appear minuscule; its trunk-ish torso is set atop a wiry spine like a marshmallow on a stick; and its pale--almost greenish--skin turns its body into a beacon in the darkness.
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Against all odds, you fall in love with the pale man who is creeping outside your door. But, as the world burns, you need to take responsibility for all you've destroyed.