Anon’s sleep ended as suddenly as it began. One moment he was dreaming of sleeping back home in his bed, and the next he was lying on a rug in someone’s tree house, completely naked, his skin covered in goosebumps. The only saving grace was a beam of sunlight shining through the window and falling on his slightly shivering form. Not wasting a moment, Anon rose from the floor and went over to grab his clothes. They were cold and damp, except for the underpants, which were just smelly, but that was still better than nothing.
While trying to pull the damp socks over his feet, Anon took a second to look around the now-lit shack. There was a giant sheet of paper stabled to a wall with drawings of the farm, orchard, some colored blobs and a town. Despite their overall childishness, the drawings had a surprising attention to details, especially when it came to the farm. He could even make out a small doorbell near the door.
Anon shuddered. The doorbell prompted another memory, one of giant green eyes and an orange creature that had them. He still could not believe whether that was real or a hallucination brought on by stress or dehydration. Or maybe that brook did have something in it, and he was running with intense fever this entire time.
He brought a hand to his forehead. No fever. He also realized he was quite hungry, which is usually not the case when one experiences fever or poisoning.
Looking over the shack for a second time, his eyes fell on the table. There was a stack of clean papers and a box of crayons, which dispelled any doubts this shack was kids’ territory. There was also an apple there and a bunch of unfinished drawings. Grabbing the apple and taking a bite, Anon glanced at the pictures. One of them had some building that somewhat resembled a school. Another – some green grass, a sea or a lake and a sun shining overhead. A third drawing, curiously, was a messy hexagon grid done in 3 colors. The last one had a weird orange colored dog with green-
Anon felt his blood run cold. A half-swallowed chunk of apple refused to come down, getting stuck somewhere in the middle and prompting a coughing fit. After catching breath, Anon risked another glance at the table. There it was, clear as day. Orange dog with green eyes. Or not a dog, its legs were far too tall and thick for that. It also had a yellow-colored tail and… a mane? The hat was there as well, because of course it had a hat yesterday, how could he forget?
That took a while to internalize. On one hand, this here was concrete evidence that what he saw yesterday was not a fever dream but, in fact, real deal. On the other hand, he has never seen anything like it before. Whatever it was was either alive or a life-like imitation, but Anon never heard of any genetic programs that could produce something similar, and as far as he knew, real-life robots were very expensive. Doubtful an apple farmer would be able to afford themselves one. But on the other other hand, the kids have obviously seen it, and maybe even gave it a hat, and drew it not as a monster, but in the same way they would draw a house pet or their relatives. So, whatever the orange thing was, it was most likely benign. Or peaceful. Or at the very least passive.
Deep in thought, Anon kept absent-mindedly eating the apple, and once finished, used the stem to clean his teeth. Suddenly realizing what’s going on, he came over the window, raised the frame and threw the stem out. From this point of view, he could only see the neat lines of the orchard, the fence and the forest beyond. The sky was clear and it was the middle of the day, meaning he has slept for over 12 hours.
With no better idea in mind, Anon decided to attempt meeting the farm owners once again. They could’ve been in the house this entire time, which meant he essentially freaked out over nothing and spent an extra night not in a warm bed, but in a dusty rug on the floor. What an embarrassment.
Going over to the door, Anon grabbed the chair and moved it. Or tried to, as it refused to budge at first. Internally feeling proud at how good he must’ve positioned it yesterday, Anon gave it a slight kick. The chair came loose and fell down the floor with a loud thud. Grabbing it and moving it back to the table – wouldn’t want to upset the owners as much as he already may – Anon put his hand on the door handle. Giving the last look at the interior – the damp spot on the floor where his clothes laid, the picture with the orange thing on the table, the window that for some reason felt off – he pulled the door open and took a step outside. And saw It.
It was the orange dog thing from yesterday. The green eyes were trained on him, half-covered by the stetson as they were yesterday. It wasn’t making a single move, which was slightly unnerving, but not as unnerving as The Other Thing.
The Other Thing was a lavender-colored variation of the first thing. Its general body shape was similar to the orange one’s, but otherwise there were multiple differences. For one, colors: the coat was lavender, not orange, and the mane and tail was purple with blue and pink stripes. Its eyes were of magenta color, and there was no hat. Instead, it had an honest to god horn. And it was looking at him as well.
Taking a second to steel himself, and still half-cautious and half-annoyed at potential embarrassment of the situation, Anon decided to take the initiative.
“Well, what are you two staring it?”
The creatures kept looking at him for couple seconds, then, as one, tilted their heads. The lavender one opened its mouth and let out some chirps. Surprised at their accidental synchronicity, Anon almost missed the sound.
“Whatever, just stay out of the way.”
He took a step towards the ladder. It did not look particularly sturdy and he was at most two meters off the ground, so Anon just squatted down at the edge and jumped off, landing on the soft grass. That prompted some nickers and whinnies from the audience, which were cut off as Anon sent a sharp glare their way.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
The pair kept silently watching him. An idea crossed his mind.
“Actually, where are your owners?”
More silence, followed by a synchronous head tilt. It was less and less likely the creatures were of robotic origin, as robots as advanced as these two would surely have had voice controls, or at the very least more consistent behavior. But then again, the head tilt thing was downright uncanny.
Deciding to grill the owners for an answer later, if they were of hospitable kind, Anon headed back towards the house. Almost immediately he heard soft thumps from behind, and a glance behind confirmed the creatures have started following him, while keeping some distance.
Curiosity reared its insidious head, and the man began to wonder just who the owners would be if not apple farmers. It’s hard to imagine how much money were poured into creating these two, and in secret. Some corporation executives? Mafia? CIA officials in retirement? Any people with access to such resources could easily make Anon disappear if they decided he stumbled across something he shouldn’t have.
Coming out of his thoughts, Anon found himself on the same porch as yesterday. The door was in front of him, the doorbell on the right. A quick glance back confirmed the duo were some mere 10 meters behind, keeping their eyes trained on him and quite obviously ensuring he wouldn’t try to run off. Throat suddenly dry, Anon raised his shaking hand towards the rope, gripped it and gave it an abrupt tug.
The bell rang. The creatures shared a look. The deadbolt slammed open. Anon swallowed. The door opened.