Sherman ran through his mind what he could do, thinking through the various obstacles that might be in the way. He could grab the pipe since it was the only thing he had that was close to a weapon. He could run out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him and hoping that the thing couldn’t open it quickly. Then, run into the basement and maybe have time to close the basement door behind him. The cage would probably be the safest place if he could close it securely.

The thing was still pulling up the window a little at a time.

Sherman kept pushing the window down, putting all his weight into it.

The thing wasn’t going to stop, and Sherman couldn’t keep it out.

He let go of the window and grabbed the pipe.

The window flew up without his weight on it.

He slid off the desk backward, keeping an eye on the monster. He knew where the floor was and the door behind him.

The thing put its hands on the side of the open window and raised its foot.

It planned to step into the room instead of crawling in. Perhaps not so smart after all.

Sherman didn’t wait for it to figure out what it was doing wrong. He turned and ran from the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t take the time to lock it. He knew that wouldn’t keep it from him, and he needed the time now to get somewhere safe.

By the time he got to the kitchen, he could hear things crashing off the desk.

The basement door was closed. He lifted it up as the bedroom door crashed into the hallway. Locking it wouldn’t have made a difference in the world.

The lights were out, but he knew where the cage was. He went down the steps and closed the door above him. Anything to slow that thing down.

He could hear it already banging on the door, trying to figure out how he had gone into the floor.

Sherman continued down the steps and went into the cage. It wasn’t much, but it was made of solid steel bars. That thing was strong, but perhaps not strong enough to bend steel. His life depended on it.

He closed the door behind him and started feeling around for the latch.

The basement door opened. Footsteps came down the stairs, quick as if the lights were on.

He found it. The combination lock he had seen earlier. With a click, he felt it lock. A few tugs confirmed that it was locked. He couldn’t get out, but he’d worry about that later. Right now, he needed to make sure that thing couldn’t get in.

He still had the pipe with him. It fit between the bars, so he could poke at the monster if it tried to get too close.

It was there in the darkness now. He could feel it looking at him.

Sherman wasn’t sure how long its arms were. He thought they were normal. The thing had been human before, and he didn’t remember seeing any of the transformed people changing so much that they were wildly out of proportion. Perhaps that was only true for those that were successful. Perhaps the failures were wildly mutated, changed horribly into monsters.

He stood with his back in the corner, as far away from the bars as he could get. He didn’t want the thing to reach in and take him.

His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet, and he couldn’t see if it was reaching in. A small amount of light was coming in through the small windows set high along the walls, throwing shadows away from him.

He felt something brush against his shirt. The arms were long! Not as long as might be imagined from the horror movies, but they were longer than normal.

Sherman brought the pipe up and around in a circle, pushing the arm away in the process.

The thing grunted.

He couldn’t stand here all night and brush it away any more than he could have kept the window closed all night by holding it down. At some point, he’d be too tired to stand. He’d fall over if he wasn’t careful. Then it would be able to grab him and pull him to the bars.

He sat down in the corner and pulled his legs up as close as he could. He rested his chin on his knees and held on to the pipe, holding it like a staff with one end on the floor.

Eventually, it would tire of trying to get him.

Eventually, he would fall asleep.

He could hear it sniffing around and reaching into the cage. Its fingernails scratched across the concrete floor. It was systematic, going from bar to bar, reaching from the top of the cage to the bottom, sweeping the whole area for him.

No doubt, it could see him, at least dimly. Sherman’s eyes were beginning to adjust, and he could make out a shadow by the cage that must be the monster. It moved slowly and methodically.

It didn’t take long for the monster to lose interest. One pass around the cage in less time than it took to learn that a window wouldn’t open.

Sherman could see it enough now to know where it was in the basement.

It sat back on the floor, looking at him. Studying him. Perhaps trying to think of some other way to get him.

Sherman took advantage of the lull and reached into the back of his pants to get his pad. He hadn’t found a power adapter for it, but now was as good a time as any to try and contact Gramps.

It wasn’t there. He could feel his shirt and the top of his pants, but his pad wasn’t there.

Shit.

He had left it on the dining room table. In his mind, he could see it sitting there near the edge.

They sat there, watching each other in the dark, or at least Sherman felt the thing was watching him. He could just see a shadow where he thought it was.