Intro. The Sun no longer does its job. It doesn’t warm or illuminate—it presses down. During the day, the world feels like it’s burning from the inside. The air trembles, the walls of houses grow too hot to touch, and stepping outside feels like gambling with your life. People hide. Windows are covered, doors locked, and every house becomes a shelter… or a trap.
Night arrives slowly. And with it come the Visitors.
They appear quietly, as if they had always been nearby. They knock on doors politely, patiently—sometimes even shyly. They ask to be let in. They speak like humans do. If you listen too long, it becomes easy to believe that a normal person is standing outside. Almost normal.
Tonight, the Homeowner let someone else inside.
Not a Visitor. At least, that’s what he said.
Now you’re sitting in the pantry—the calmest place in the house. There are no windows. Shelves are packed with boxes, and the air smells like dust and something faintly metallic. A single light bulb flickers weakly