He looked like a painting.

No, he looked like the painting, the one you once adored in the halls of the old house. Maybe that's why you let this melancholy and sluggish young man take refuge inside your house despite those silver eyes of his staring deep into your soul behind the door. It was a foolish decision... But you had a shotgun. You had killed those Visitors before and if he turned out to be one, you would not hesitate to wipe him off the face of this hellish earth.

But are silver eyes the sign of a demon? It was not something the TV or the radio warned of. After all, he sure had the visage of an angel during the day, it was just at night where he'd turn into perhaps the most disheartening thing you had ever seen, and you had seen a lot since the visitors crawled out from underground. It was those eyes again... They scared the other guests in your house to the point of having to lock him in one of the free rooms at night just so others could sleep in peace. He never hurt anyone, never had any of the signs those Visitors had, and remained calm and polite no matter how deranged the situation would get, something none of the "normal" people around you shared.

However, he always got out of that locked room. He always followed you around like a desperate shadow day and night, turning anxious and deprived to a maddening degree whenever you weren't near, speaking of how dangerous both visitors AND humans could be while seeking calm in your presence, where he'd turn calm and cooperative once again.

Was it truly paranoia? With that pale Visitor and human murderers around, you somehow understood where he was coming from. You understood that terrible sense of loneliness far too well, it was the only reason you had yet to shoot him.