I looked around as I stumbled through the front door. I wasn't exactly sure of what was outside... I mean, may not have even been all that scary. But, being the pale, writing type, I was much more inclined to explore the recesses of reality through my mind rather than through the actual recesses of reality.
The television had been left on and I wondered by who. And then I wondered as to why there was a television in my house along with a vidcon console, a pile of beef jerky, and an air freshener plugged into the wall. I do not watch television, I stay away from anything digital (or visual, for that matter), I'm a vegetarian, and I'm allergic to traces of chemicals in dryer sheets even. What was all this doing in my single bedroom, single resident home, and who the hell put it here?
Through the static of the television I could see some sort of forest scene, stagnant and motionless aside from the layer of white noise filtering over the image and the steadily moving humanoid figure centered on the screen. Looking down, I noticed that the vidcon console was also left on. At least, that's what I tend to assume when a red light is flashing on the top of an electronic box.
I heard a crash and realized that commotion was still brewing outside. I peered through the blinds to see twenty cyclists rush past the sidewalk out front, obscuring a large man who was walking directly towards my home. I panicked, closed the blinds, turned off the lights, and ran for the front door. As my hand clutched the knob, I was stricken by the oversized wooden plank and subsequently struck the back of my head on the wall. The large, bearded man trudged into my home wearing a large brown leather duster, sporting a wildly rough, unshaven, and untrimmed curly black mop on his face and head. I wouldn't have been able to describe much more due to the slow, but incredibly large strides he demonstrated right through the threshold of my house. Who the h
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