>>5516325 >>5516441Well, it won't hurt to take a look. Judging from the ruckus at the door they should be pretty busy anyways. You lower yourself underneath the curtain and then take a peek out the bedroom window. To your surprise, the front yard is rather well illuminated thanks to a light attached to the garage. That wasn't on when you were out there. One of those motion-sensing ones, you guess?
You focus your attention on the front door. A small awning sits over the entryway, obscuring your view, but from your angle you can make out part of what's going on. The thing from before is out there, that's for sure. You can't see its top half due to that damn awning, but based on where you see the feet it's probably by the window you used to break in. Could it be trying to break through the bookshelf you put in front of it? That probably would be quicker than the door.
As you're thinking about this, you see the thing stop and take a step back. From a location just out of view, it picks up something big with a handle. It looks a bit like an axe, although that seems rather unlikely. You mean, who would nee-
THUNK. THUNK. The sounds are louder now, as it hits whatever it's wielding against the bookshelf.
Ok, yeah, that's probably an axe. That is... concerning. You suppose that means it's smart enough to use tools at least, although you guess that's to be expected given that it's vaguely human. You stare at what you can see of it for a few seconds longer, hoping to see if it has anything else, but just see it swing down again. Stupid awning.
Figuring that you should get a look around before the light goes out on you, you glance around the street. The moon is still sitting still in the sky, raining blood-red light down upon you, and the vaguely fleshy protuberance embedded in the middle of the street is as disturbing as ever. It all seems 'normal' until you notice two small details. The first being that one of the windows on the house across the street is broken. You didn't do that, so you can only imagine
that did. Whether to look for you or to get that axe, you don't know.
The second detail is more minor, and you can't quite decide what to make of it. There's a big puddle of something on the driveway below you. You can't imagine of what, given that it hasn't rained since you got home yesterday. But neither do you spend much time thinking about it. It was almost pitch black when you came inside, and it's entirely possible you just missed something the home owners spilled.
