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(Written by Midwich Cuckoo)

Disclaimer: Everything I dare to say is mine about this is the very idea for this fanfic and nothing more. The world of the Flesh and Blood belongs to Graham Masterton.

Beta: Sosaveme

„B-b-but-t-t..." Wilbur Pearson stuttered, shivering like grass in the wind, trying to prolong the inevitable with this question, silly as it was in this situation „but-t-t..."

The Green Traveler and his companions just looked at each other and - impassively - at him – this inquisitive distant ancestor of Terence Pearson (even if back then, two centuries before Terence took his children's lives to save them from the cruel death at the hands of Janek the Green, none of the representatives of this silent gathering could realize this, nor know what the future awaiting them both was going to be like), in silent amazement that the man didn't even try to run away - the shock caused by their appearing in his protected house so suddenly was seemingly too big - but instead demanding answers. As if those could matter in such a moment.

Janek the Green raised his skeleton-like thin finger, being a weird combination of human flesh and something that resembled a hawthorn twig, seeming to be interested in the question his son was going to ask them.

The ancestor of Terence regained his breath – enough to be able to ask the question troubling him in a voice so soft and trembling that Janek and his companions were barely able to hear it.

„B-b-b-but how... how d... did you manage to get to my h... house? It was pro... pro... sorry, protected – I mean there was n... nothing gr... sorry, green in it."

He swallowed hard, looking at the men who arrived to kill him to satisfy his father's insatiable appetite for the flesh of his own descendants. He clenched his fists. He took, after all, all recommended precautions he found out - written about in the diary of his grandfather who came to America from The Old World, trying to solve the riddle of The Green Traveler, and now was he just going to die at the hands of this monster like everybody before him?

„I never allowed anyone to bring in anything that was green," the man said, in such a voice as if the man was trying to excuse himself. „So... how were you able to come in? You didn't need to knock the door.. so how were you able then to get to my house? I know everything... you can't get in if there isn't any trace of green in the house. I read about it in a diary of someone from the Old Country. So... how? There was no green."

Awaiting the answer, he eyed them with a haughty look on his face; one that said there was nothing he could be embarrassed of in this department; he took care of everything he could to protect himself and his family.

The Green Traveler's companions exchanged glances with one another. To the eyes of Wilbur, they look amused in some strange way. Quite as if the answer awaiting him was something he should know himself without asking for any questions. As if they were aware of something he should know himself, too.

They laughed. Even Janek let out a muffled sound that resembled a laughing whisper. The leaves covering his body shook. What could be so funny about it?

This was the next thing he wanted to know. „What is so funny about all of this?" Wilbur asked.

It was the fair-haired girl wearing a mask- Naked - who answered. She raised a finger, resembling Janek with this gesture and directed it towards Wilbur's face.

The man didn't understand the gesture.


„ There was something green in your house. It was there for the entire time. Your eyes. They are green" in a heavily accented voice Naked said with a smile.

The End.