Breaking Point

I. Abudction

Thank you for reading my story. This book might seem like a cliche at the start, but it takes a different direction.  I hope you enjoy it.  I am always looking to improve my writing, so please let me know where I can improve, as well as the elements that work for you. if you like it, vote for it. If you don't like it, tell me why. I look forward to your feedback.

The night was dark in the quiet suburban neighborhood. Infrequent street lamps cast a dull light on the small unlit houses along the asphalt road. A bitter wind swept across the darkened street, bringing with it a harsh spray of a million snowflakes, all of them bouncing off the pavement, creating a thin white cloud that rolled down the street.

Francis stared absentmindedly out of his bedroom window at his old familiar neighborhood. Something's not right, he thought, but he couldn't put his finger on what that something was. Maybe there was a slight discoloration from the moon, or the shadows didn't fall consistently with the light. He wasn't quite sure.

He heard a loud beep, and suddenly his attention returned to the computer sitting on a desk. It was covered with miscellaneous papers, undeposited paychecks, bank statements, and corrected resumes. The only space that was remotely usable was where his laptop sat.

Francis began filling out the dozens of dialogue boxes on the web page when one prompted him "Drivers License Number." He looked at the question, puzzled. Why would an employer need to know his driver's license number?

Francis looked around his bedroom in search of his wallet. The rest of his room small room was equally messy and useless. It was filled with CDs, books, childhood knickknacks, stolen glasses and posters from college, even a few quarter full liquor bottles he had no intention of finishing.

The computer beeped again, "Shut up," he whispered as he dug through a pile of semi-clean clothes strewn across the floor. He found his wallet in the jeans he was wearing earlier that day. As he removed his driver's license, he questioned the legitimacy of this position, and whether it was worth the risk of sending yet another piece of sensitive personal information into the vast world wide web.

However, before he could resolve his internal conflict, a sudden flash of white light from outside his window drew his attention. "What the hell was that?" He walked to his window to investigate, expecting to see a maintenance truck, a snow plow, or any perfectly normal thing that could have temporary shined a floodlight into his room. He looked out the window. That's weird. There's nothing. The neighborhood looked the same as it did moments before.

CREEK! It was the front door opening in his living room. Who could that be? He heard the soft, rhythmic tapping of several sets of footsteps on the hardwood floor, but the footsteps were different somehow. They were light and swift, too small to belong to an adult, but too calm, calculated, and mature to belong to a child. He went to investigate.

Francis slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to let it squeak. He heard the footsteps entering the kitchen. He took soft, easy steps towards the living room. His sock covered feet let him advance almost noiselessly with ease.

He entered the living room. Tension, excitement, fear, and curiosity, all wrapped into one gripped him as he looked at the figures inspecting his kitchen. What the hell were they?

There were three of them. They were small, humanoid creatures with massive eyes and small mouths. They saw him at the same moment that he saw them. If they were surprised by his sudden appearance, they didn't show it. A split second after they caught sight of him, one of them walked towards him; he had something in his hand.

Francis didn't react. He wasn't sure how to react. His cocktail of conflicting emotions made him indecisive. Should he shake his hand or take a swing at him? Should he run away or chase them out?