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Part 2:

So anyway I can see the roll of duct tape is still hanging from the mailbox, which is funny. But at least they don't leave mail. As I peek out the window, my imagination gets the better of me. Who could be standing just around the corner of my neighbor's wall? If I keep looking, I know I'll see someone step into view and run up to my window...who knows what they would do to me.

Bernard shudders and hides his face in the blankets. Gosh, as if that'll help. Now it's worse. Bernard can't see around the neighbor's wall or behind the bushes. But Bernard also can't see the man crouching in the flowers beneath his windowsill. The man whose balding head silently rises above the window's base and whose wide eyes await Bernard's, in disbelief.

I scream after I muster the courage to throw my face to the window -- but nothing. Just my darn imagination running off again. Content, I'm about to hit the hay when something does catch my eye. My mailbox’s shadow now has arms and a head. But I quickly realize that it’s not alive, just a man that’s alive, down the street. Bernard sits up and shoves his back against the wall, leaning forward just enough to catch a sideways glimpse out the window. It’s one of them -- a mailman. He must be delivering to the neighbor. Bernard remains motionless and tense, as the faint screech of a closing mailbox can be heard. The man walks nearer. Bernard glances out quickly as the mailman stops at his box and jiggles the handle. Ha.

He’s not going to be able to open it because Bernard did a bang-up job of taping it up. And he must be a new-hire because the old guy knew not to even bother. Still, this isn’t normal and it makes Bernard anxious. The mailman seems to give up, but instead of moving to the next house, he does the one thing Bernard knows is bad news. He starts running.

No no no no no. I slump into my sheets and pray this isn’t really happening. But I can already hear the brisk steps growing louder on the driveway. And now they’re on the porch. Then… Knock. Knock. Knock. I can hear the blood pumping in my chest and feel it in my hands. Slowly, I slide my legs off the bed slide down onto the floor.

Bernard can’t stand up. There may be more peering into his room at this very moment. He is prepared though. Reaching under the bed, he pulls out a heavy sledgehammer. Bernard stays low and crawls to the hallway like a snake. A snake with a hammer. Knock. Knock. It sends shivers down his spine.

Don’t look into the other rooms. Don’t look in the living room. Just focus on the… Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Crap. I breath a little and creep down the hall, trying to make not a peep. I can hear the sound of the sledgehammer sliding on linoleum. I get to the end of the hall. Now all I have to do is turn the corner and I’ll be in the entryway. Luckily for me, there’s a frosted glass window on the right of the door. Laying flat to the ground, I collect my breath enough and then crane my head around the corner to see what I can see through that window. I see part of a tall figure holding something in his hand off to his side. Knock. Knock. Knock. What do I do?

Bernard crawls at a snail’s pace until he’s crouched at the left of the door. Knock. Knock. Bernard props the sledgehammer against the wall and slowly rises to a stand. I can only see the man’s faint shadow against the glass. “Hello? Is anyone there?” I close my eyes and try to relax, but it doesn’t work. Is this real? Maybe it’s my imagination?? I can’t take it any longer.

“S-sl-ide it under the...door.” “Hello? Is someone in there?” I raise my voice a little. “Yes, I’m he-- Just slide the mail under the door. Please.” “Sorry, I need a signature on this.”

Part 4:

I’m about to respond, but my hand darts to cover my mouth. Nobody delivers this late. That’s it. I’m done. This is where it ends. NO. This is not where it ends. I stop my hands from shaking and grip the sledgehammer in my left hand and the deadbolt lock with my right. Click. My hand moves to the knob. Turn, and the door flings open.

A smiling face. My stomach is doing somersaults. “Hi, please sign here.”

Bernard’s sweaty palm holds the sledgehammer, concealed behind the door. Awkwardly, he snatches the clipboard with his right hand, scribbles a scratchy signature, and thrusts it back into the man’s hand.

“Alright, here are your letters. And here’s your packa--” I slam the door shut, lock it, and take a risk. Off goes the tape over the peephole and I throw my face up to it. The man looks confused, but he sets down the letters and briskly walks away. I am relieved, but I still wait until he walks all the way down the street and around the corner. Relief flows over me. Close one.

But that relief was short-lived. THUMP! I hear something smack against glass. My eyes dart to the window next to the door...but no, this sounded like it came from my room.

The mail was a diversion.

The waves of fear lap over Bernard as he falls the floor, pulling the sledgehammer down with him. He breathes heavily as he crawls back down the hall. He speeds up as his mind spins, thinking of what could be making its way in through his window.

Part 5:

Crawl slowly, Bernard.

I come to the frame of my door. I close my eyes and then open them again. With a gulp, I lean my head in and then pull it back out. Nothing. But that only means nothing made it to the floor. My bed blocked the rest of my view. Head throbbing, I know this is do-or-die time. I lurch into the room, staying low to the ground, knuckles white on the hammer handle.

My eyes are met with those of a contorted face, pressed against the glass, hanging down from the eaves above the window.

Bernard’s expression of disbelief melts into a wide smile.

Bernard lets go of the blood-stained sledgehammer and crawls fast, faster, a chuckle forming in his gut.

In a bought of relief, Bernard slams his face up to the dead face, laughing.

I look up, face still against the cool glass. Bernard, you fool, I told you this cheap duct tape wouldn’t hold.

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>>18776156
are u fucking gay or something

aliens landed 8000 years ago

they inject us with little ufos to get the ones they couldnt get to

we shower in vaccines, chlorine is also little ufos

this is armageddon. gtfo with ur fucking story shit.