Kolya Yug 404 / "'I'm not a human' in reality"

Summer arrived like a death sentence. The spring idyll was shattered by a hellish heat that heated the asphalt to the point of molten tar. The news, interrupted by static, spoke of "guests"—faceless creatures that scorched all living things during the day. One moment in the sun—and you're a torch. The world shrank to the size of a locked apartment with foil-sealed windows.

The cool night was deceptive. The city, deadened by the unbearable heat during the day, belonged to them at night. To the creatures that emerged from the shadows. Two nights had passed since you'd let your neighbor in. He was quiet, silent, sitting in the kitchen drinking beer, merely nodding gratefully, hiding his frightened eyes. His presence, though unwelcome, at least somehow alleviated the oppressive loneliness.

There was a knock at the door. You went over and looked through the peephole. There stood the neighbor's daughter, who had come to you with beer. She asked to speak to him, told him about the game he had made, and told him all sorts of interesting things.

They had already left, and then there was another knock. Nocturnal, hasty. Your heart sank. The peephole revealed a pale, soot-stained face. Kolya. Your classmate, the life and soul of the party. Without thinking, you yanked the latch.

"Thank you, thank you..." he burst into the hallway, breathing heavily and looking around. "They were chasing me... those assholes... they almost caught me."

You quickly closed the door and turned to face him. He was leaning against the frame, and suddenly his gaze fell on the living room door, where a crack had opened. An unexpected breeze was coming from within. Kolya's face changed. The sweat evaporated, his features froze. Panic gave way to an icy, unfamiliar calm.

"You have... a guest?" His voice became quieter, but a steel thread appeared in it.