The Silver Stars were a set of stars that appeared once every twenty five years. It is common for stars to disappear. It means that they died thousands of years ago and the light has only just stopped reaching us. However, for stars to disappear and return on such a tight schedule is an unexplainable phenomenon. All we know is that the Silver Stars change nature that day. It shifts a balance in the direction of good, or it shifts it in the direction of bad. If you examined the times closely you would find that major events or actions that led to such were caused by Silver Stars.
Animals react in many different ways. Most of them positive. The creatures would make peace with their prey or their would-be killer. Foxes lay with rabbits, lions with wildebeest and so on. Other times it is the complete reverse. Foxes are killed and eaten by rabbits, wildebeest attack lions. The food chain is turned upside down, shifted to such an extent that the next day is a shock to the natural system and animals experience internal and mental problems that change their very being, killing them in the process.
The stars have also been known to affect people. Not all people however, most humans seem to show no change. Perhaps it only applies to that with more animistic nature, but the average person will make it through the occurrence without a single shift in character. However, there are cases where the stars have an influence and it is as clear as day. They are reported in the paper usually, but I was aware of one that was never reported.
It happened in my home.
I have a fairly large home. I suppose it wouldn't appear so if I lived with anyone else, but it is my home nevertheless. Hard work didn't get me this hope, just cunning and no small amount of deceit. Not much you can do in this society that would lend you this kind of wealth, so I turned to some scummy options. I woke up one night, having experienced a terrible nightmare. I immediately forgot what it was, because I heard something smash inside my home. I first felt fear, but I don't back down from strange noises. It is in my nature to investigate anything out of the ordinary.
I walked down the stairs towards where I thought the sound came from. I heard another noise along the way. It was running water and the clinks of glass. It was coming from my kitchen. When I turned a corner I could see the light was on. Someone was standing at my sink washing the dishes. He picked up one glass after another, washed it thoroughly, dried it and placed it on a rag to be later packed away.
The man seemed normal enough. He wore a plain t-shirt and good, clean shoes. However, he was in my home. I held a gun at my side and warned him to leave, but he ignored me. He moved from doing the dishes towards the cleaning cabinet, grabbed a broom and began sweeping the floors. I finally saw his face and again it was average. Clean shaven, neat hair and I could even smell aftershave and cologne. If felt as if one of my employees broke in, but his was a face I did not recognize.
A warned him again, but still he ignored me. He didn't seem to be causing harm, but I still felt fear. I couldn't shoot the man unless he was behaving threateningly, i just couldn't. I reached into my pocket and began to call the police. The man dropped the broom and raised his hands in surrender. He begged me not to call the police. He was just cleaning. Out of all the things in the world a man could do breaking into my home, decorated with finery and money and valuables stored in almost every ornate box, he came here to clean?
I asked him what he was doing in my home and he just told me he needed to stop. Stop everything he’s done in his life and do something else. Stop all the destruction in his wake, stop all the cruelty he caused. He had to show kindness and save himself. He was not a religious man, he meant to save himself from the guilt. There was blood on his hands, but it was blood that needed to be wiped clean.
I don't know why that worked, but I stopped my call. I let the intruder do what he wanted to do. He did chores. He dusted and cleaned anything that looked dirty. He did this for hours. I followed him around and asked him questions, but all he said was thank you and fell silent. I made sure to keep great distance from him and have my gun ready. I grew angry, a powerful anger that coursed through me.
He sickened me. This monster that broke into my home and cleaned? The gun felt right in my hand. He told me he had to leave, but I couldn't let him. He may have finished a bunch of chores, but he owed me for breaking in. He did something wrong. He needed to pay. I aimed at his back and pulled the trigger twice. He fell down dead. Blood flowed from open wounds onto the swept floor and the man sighed his last breath post-death. I don't know how I knew, but I knew what to do with the body. I found his wallet, I found his address, I opened the door with his key and placed him on the chair. Leaving remnants of evidence here and there that pointed towards a suicide I found myself collecting some of his things. Knives, guns and strange, dark instruments that I found ingenious. Before leaving I unleashed a box full of store bought rats into his apartment and shut the door.
Two days later I saw his face in an article alongside a blurred messy picture of his face as they found him. I smiled at the rats handiwork, but even more so what I read below the picture. He was serial killer of some note. My guilt plagued me, but not for long. It seemed to me in that moment I had found my calling.
People act strangely during the Silver Stars Phenomenon; they are never the same after.