The knock came again, very demanding this time.
Why would trick-or-treaters come this late? What if it’s an emergency?
Adrienne got up quietly to peer through the peephole. She tiptoed over to the door like an expert, knowing all the right places to step so not a squeak could be heard. As she pressed her eye against the hole, it became apparent that the lens was a bit foggy. A couple seconds later it cleared, revealing a pair of luminous green eyes.
What the…those eyes aren’t human. They look like some kind of lizard.
Swirls of green glowed around a black slit, piercing into her gaze. What surrounded the eyes was a dark figure. It was similar in shape to a human body but also obscure in an other-worldly way. The eyes were the same size as a human’s eyes, maybe a bit larger.
This can’t be a costume. It’s well after midnight. Nobody goes trick-or-treating this late.
Adrienne felt very chilly, stiff-bodied, and her breathing barely audible. She jumped slightly when the figure knocked again, this time leaning its eyes even closer to the peephole. The eyes were fixed intently on her and Adrienne was sure they knew she was there, only a few inches away. She moved her right foot slightly to adjust her stance and the floor gave a terribly loud squeak.
Shit shit shit BAD move! Bad move!
Adrienne felt like punching herself. The creature’s eyes hadn’t budged from their position. In fact, they seemed to have an almost triumphant gleam to them now.
They stared at each other, one pair of eyes paralyzed in fear, the other pair commanding to be let inside. Adrienne suddenly snapped to attention as she heard a slow scraping across the door. Like long, hideous fingernails. Her eyes shot down to the knob, which was now desperately jerked to the right and left. Then brief silence, followed by a raspy hiss. She glanced through the peephole again and nearly fainted. Instead of those reptilian eyes, she saw two rows of sharp, brilliant teeth. A forked tongue snaked out as if to sniff the air. The wild eyes shot back into view, squinting into a glare. Then, as suddenly as the figure had arrived, it darted away into the night.
She shivered and began securing all potential entryways, meanwhile noticing something odd. Their cat, Strudel, was displaying some very strange habits. Normally sprawled out and fast asleep, Strudel had unexpectedly leapt up from her nap and was crouched on the bottom-most step. Staring intently up the flight of stairs, her ears suddenly flattened against her head.
A loud cry of distress came from above. No, it wasn’t Alex’s usual angry three-year-old cry, but a high-pitched shriek like nothing she’d ever heard from him. Fear rushed through her.