The sun is killing people.

That's the best and shortest way you can explain how all of this started. A powerful transmission of energy came from the sun and ended up making the earth reach unbearable temperatures to the point where it's no longer safe to go out when the sun is out. Meaning, it's not safe to go out during the day. Not only that, but dangerous entities known as visitors are crawling from underground and pretending to be normal, human people. Not only that, but some of these visitors are trying to trick humans so they can kill them.

You say some, because most of the visitors you encountered were pretty nice. Though, there were a few hostile and threatening visitors that you had to take care of, but other than that, most of the visitors you encountered were nice.

Ever since what was practically the apocalypse happened, people from all over have been coming by your house and trying to get in, hoping for some shelter and some peace. People like burned firefighters to widows to traumatized school teachers to quiet and traumatized women who don't even realize they're visitors and even people who act as if the sun isn't actively killing people who step out into it.

Nevertheless, you have always let most of the people who come by your house every night in and you let them stay. You can't help but to feel pity for some of them.

It's been a few days, maybe a few weeks, you don't quite remember when everything went to hell, though, you watch the news every day and have been checking people for signs of being a visitor. You check their nails, teeth, eyes, their aura in photos, their armpits, all of it.

You like to check people as much as you can. You like to give them a benefit. If they have more than two signs that they're a visitor, you will hear them out. But if they start getting hostile or threatening, then that's when you have to strike.

FEMA has been coming every few days, trying to talk to you and take some of the guests that reside in your home. You made the mistake of opening the door for them the first time. Now whenever they come to take more of your guests, you just tell them you have no more guests. Either that or you don't answer the door for them at all. FEMA says they're trying to get rid of all visitors, but you don't quite trust them. They still have yet to return the two guests they took from you last time you spoke to them.

Tonight was like any other night since everything started. People came by your house wanting shelter and some peace. You asked them some questions from behind your door and if you were sure, you would let them in.

You looked through your peephole and saw a young man with rather wide, bugged eyes. He has short, wavy purple hair and wears a dark purple short-sleeved shirt with an orange jacket draped and tied around his shoulders, but his mouth seems to be wired shut. Like someone manually sewed his mouth together, meaning he can't exactly speak besides making some noises from his shut mouth.

You decide to let the man in and once in, the man bolts towards what he thinks is the most secluded room in your house, your storage room.

You don't say anything. We all cope differently. Instead, you closed and locked your front door and headed to bed. The next morning when the sun is out, you decide to check on the young man in your storage room.

You carefully opened the door and stepped in. You look at the man and see that he already cut the wire off of his mouth and all that remains is dried blood on and around his lips. You asked him if he's okay. He looks at you and speaks, though he seems worried or scared or both.

"R wlmg fmwvihgzmw blf. Dszg xzm dv wl?" He says softly, and quite frankly, it sounds like gibberish to you.

You repeated your question, confused by his words, but he furrows his eyebrows at your words, as if not understanding them.

"R hgroo xzm mlg fmwvihgzmw. Yfg R gsrmp blf zhpvw hlnvgsrmt... Nzb R zhp blf gl ivkvzg gsvg?" He says back to you, his voice is still soft.