PRECURSOR Book Two of the Stanford Sequence by Thomas Lipschultz I could barely see it in the dimly lit room. It was a creature of some kind, with gray skin and huge black eyes. It was very short, around three feet. Its eyes seemed to stare into the very depths of my soul. Somehow, though, it wasn't frightening to me. I was propped up on my elbows on a large metal table. I could just barely see the back wall, which seemed to have hieroglyphics written upon it. Voices echoed through my head. "We will not hurt you," they said, "We mean you no harm." Suddenly, without warning, the lights blared. I put my arm up to shield my eyes from the blinding light. The creature was a mere silhouette now, blackened against the brilliant white. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I lowered my arm. To my horror, I saw more shadows in front of me. Three, four, five, six, seven of them! They were all approximately the same height as the original creature. My head was being flooded with voices. I began to panic and scream like a banshee... Then, as quickly as it began, it was all over. With one more quick yelp, I sat up in bed. It was all a dream, yet it seemed so very real to me. Needless to say, I couldn't get back to sleep. I was too afraid of those creatures with the black eyes. I'd seen them before: in my house, in my bedroom, in front of my bed. So, like an idiot, I took a book of ghost stories from my dresser and began reading. This had been happening too often. Every friday I would see something out of the corner of my eye before going to sleep. Every Saturday, I would dream about these horrible creatures. Perhaps I should have stuck with my paranormal studies. That incident back in Gordon Ivy really shook me up, so I took my own advice, and got a job in accounting. I probably should have joined the FBI as a supernaturalist. Of course, that would be tough, as they never seem to admit that they have such a division. I know that they do, though. I have a friend (or perhaps I should say I had one) with that job. I'd seen him only a few weeks ago. He knew all about my friday experiences, so I decided to pay him a visit the next morning. I must have fallen asleep without knowing it then, as it was half past nine in the morning when I opened my eyes. I gulped down a bowl of Sugar-O's and headed out to see my old friend. He would know what to do. I walked into the third-floor office of Government Records, Building B. The security guard knew me, so he had no problems letting me in. I was then confronted by a secretary. "Ah, Mr. Stanford! I assume you're here to see Carl?", she asked. I then recognized her as Mrs. Colobar. She somehow looked different. Perhaps it was a new hairstyle. Anyway, I nodded my head, and she pressed a button on the intercom next to her. "Mr. Hedgewise, Thomas Stanford is here to see you," she said. I heard Carl tell her to send me in, and she propped open the door to his office for me. Carl warmly greeted me, then sat me down. "I assume this unexpected visit has something to do with your close encounters, then," he said. I nodded, and explained my situation to him. He seemed to be contemplating for a few minutes, then he responded. "If it would make you feel more comfortable, I'll stake out your house this friday night while you sleep. You can contact me via walkie-talkie if you hear or see anything." I agreed, and he sent me on my way. Come friday night, I found that Carl was true to his word. I hadn't called to remind him, as I myself forgot. He knocked on my door, though, and slipped me a walkie-talkie. I felt protected, like a baby in a blanket, and went off to bed. Of couse, I looked out my bedroom window first, and glimpsed an average van parked across the street. I sighed, and fell into peaceful slumber. I was woken up, though, by the sound of footsteps. They seemed to be getting closer and closer. I frantically looked out my window. The van was still there. I picked up the walkie-talkie, and began speaking in a sort of a hushed yell. "Carl! Footsteps! Come quick!" I listened for a response, and finally heard a "Roger" from his end. He was on his way. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, louder and louder. I caught a glimpse of gray in my bedroom door. The creature was entering my room! I couldn't move a muscle. I saw it now. The hideous gray creature with the horrible black eyes. It was heading toward me, very slowly. Then, to my relief, I heard Carl's voice. "STOP! Get out of there! Leave him alone!" The creature whirled around. It started walking in the opposite direction, toward the new voice. Carl was in my bedroom now. "You've tormented him enough!" I could see more patches of gray in the doorway. They were coming for me. Or were they coming for Carl? I had to warn him. "Carl! Behind you!" Carl spun around. They were surrounding him now. Hundreds of them. The room was filled with little gray creatures. Carl and I screamed in unison. We screamed as loud as we possibly could. A bright light was flooding the room, like the light in my dreams. When it dissipated, the creatures were all gone. So was Carl. Since then, I haven't been troubled by the gray creatures. They seemed to have stopped bothering me altogether. However, Carl never came in to work the next day. He was gone without a trace. Police finally gave up the search after a year. As for me, I decided to quit my accounting job and join the FBI. Not as a supernaturalist, but as an inventor. You'd be surprised what they invent in the government.