Chapter Text
It was finally over. Scientists had determined that not only was it safe to go outside during daylight, but that the visitors had died off as well, unable to survive the dropping temperatures. He gripped the radio with white knuckles as cheers from the others rang out around him. Even though the noise was deafening, he could barely register their presence. All he could feel was… Disappointment? It had never occurred to him that this would end. That he would survive. His fingers trembled at the thought that he could live another year. Maybe even another decade. Dread consumed him, sitting like a heavy stone in his stomach.
A firm slap on his shoulder forced the man to wrench himself from his somber thoughts. The bar guy, Yesenin, was grinning down at him, eyes shining bright. It was the happiest he’d ever seen him. He realized the tall man’s mouth was moving. Forcing himself to focus he caught the end of the sentence.
”No more FEMA! No more visitors! We did it! We survived!” Yesenin was still shaking him ecstatically. He tried to force a smile, the best he could do was a grimace. Thankfully that must have been a normal enough reaction from the homeowner because he was already turning and gripping the cheerful man by the shoulders. The two were practically jumping up and down like two overgrown children.
”Hey old man.” He turned towards the young teen who seemed to be trying to avoid being trampled by the others. She lifted one eyebrow and cocked her head. “You okay?” She must misread something in his eyes and hesitantly grabs his calloused hand. “If they’re all dead then that means…” She pauses, eyes shifting to the floor for a moment. “That pale weirdo’s gone now. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” She gives his hand a little squeeze. He stares at her for a few moments before giving a jerky nod and an awkward thumbs up. She wasn’t a touchy person, especially with her past. But there were many nights where she had been there when the pale man had visited. Her habit of staying up at night had unfortunately made her aware of a different horror than abusive father’s, FEMA agents, or a possibly exploding sun. She had seen the bodies littered in the yard from his killings, heard his eerie voice through the door, and seen his haunting smile through the windows. On those nights she would seek out the homeowner, clinging to his side shaking. She was a strong girl, a hell of a lot stronger than most. She had been through enough, she deserved peace. Better not to worry the poor girl. He should be happy like everyone else. No one needed to know how fucked up he was.
***
It only took a week for the last person to leave his home. Yesenin and the cheerful man, Luka, had left as soon as they were able, both wishing the homeowner well and thanking him for everything. It was awkward for him, he didn’t feel like he did enough to deserve it. When the world went to shit he didn’t rush to anyone’s aid, he just hid behind his front door with a gun like a coward. He did the bare minimum and allowed a handful of people inside. But even then he couldn’t even protect them properly. He had made mistakes, gotten innocent people killed by visitors. And the worst sin of all: he stood there and allowed FEMA to take the neighbor’s daughter. It was his greatest regret. Her screams will haunt him for the rest of his days.
Both Yesenin and Luka took his phone number with promises to keep in touch. He didn’t believe them. Stand Up guy and Widowed Woman left next followed by the Stoner; the latter he was happy to see go, hoping that his house would stop reeking of weed in his absence. He was surprised when the teenager wanted to go with the kindergarten teacher.
”I’ll look after her, I promise,” the woman had told him. They had grown close during their stay in his house. The teen had brought comfort to the tortured woman just as the teacher provided stability and understanding to the teen.
”Hey chin up.” The teen punched his arm. Hard. He hissed and cradled his arm tenderly, shooting her a reprimanding glare. “I’ll be back to bother you in no time old man. I’ll even bring some proper movies over so you can stop watching those horrible depressing VHS tapes.”
”Those are proper movies,” he argues, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. She snorted and shook her head.
”No they aren’t and you know it!” The teacher shook his hand and thanked him. He hated that they kept doing that. The girl at first just offered a fist bump. She got about halfway down the porch stairs before she spun around and gave him a bone crushing hug. It startled him, but he found himself returning the embrace tentatively, like he was afraid to ruin it. Then the two were on their way.
And just like that the house was empty once more. Just him, the cat, and the shot gun. He slid the deadbolt into place, ignoring the heavy finality the sound invoked in him. He stood for a long time in front of that door. He tried to tell himself that the anxious ache in his chest was just exhaustion. Not that he missed his guests. He was better off alone. He knew this and yet the silence of the house seemed deafening. Ignoring the fact that it was only 3 pm he flung open the fridge and downed a beer. Stumbling to the bed he hoped he felt better come morning. Less hollow.