Ian and Mike were brothers who lived on a farm down a lonely country road. Every summer they would laugh and play in the backyard with their dogs. It was a carefree time, and one with many cherished memories. But one day all that changed.
A hush seemed to take over the farm as their mother pulled up in the family station wagon. She had arrived home from work one afternoon, with a rather large parcel nestled under her arms. She motioned for the boys to follow her into the house. They trailed anxiously behind.
Ian and Mike were hard-working country boys who knew the meaning of earning their keep. And every summer, as promised, their parents would provide them with a special gift in return for such a favor. This one came in a very large box.
Mr. and Mrs. Riley sat on the couch in the living room, waiting impatiently for their sons to open it. Ian and Mike tore at the fine wrapping paper, ripping it to shreds. Lying openly on the coffee table was an odd-looking machine. The boys had never seen anything like it before.
"Well. What do you think?" their mother coaxed.
"What is it?" the boys chimed in together.
Mr. Riley pulled out a pipe and lit it, smiling secretly to himself. "That, my sons," he puffed, "is a genuine video game machine. The best on the market. You hook it up to the TV."
Ian and Mike were anxious to take the machine upstairs and hook it up. Their father pulled out another small package and handed it to them.
"And this you'll need for the machine."
The boys opened it up, delighted at the brand new games. They leaned over and kissed their parents with affection, then ran upstairs to their bedroom and shut the door.
Soon after, Mr. and Mrs. Riley began to notice a change around the house. Over the following days the happy chatter around the dinner table diminished. Ian and Mike would quickly gobble down their food and then beg to be excused. The once-adventurous boys kept to themselves and rarely went outside. It was very strange indeed.
Mrs. Riley noticed a physical change, too. The tall strapping young boys now appeared pale and unkempt, and their eyes seemed larger than ever.
One day as Mrs. Riley hauled a basket of laundry up the stairs, she noticed a sign posted on the door which read: "Knock before entering." Mrs. Riley finally realized that her sons were growing up and needed more privacy. But as the days turned into weeks, more signs were added to the door.
She became even more astounded when she read a sign posted in blood-red ink which warned: "Danger. Do not enter."
Mr. And Mrs. Riley became concerned. Maybe too many hours in front of the TV was affecting their health.
Mr. Riley was going to put a stop to it once and for all. He climbed up the stairs and stood at the door, which now read: "Go away or you'll be sorry!" He rattled the door knob, but it was locked. He called out his warning, demanding the boys to let him in. But all he could hear was the light tatter, tatter, tatter, tatter, of little fingers drumming on video game controllers. He soon gave up and decided to wait it out.
Over the next two weeks, things were very quiet on the farm. No laughter of children. No running of farm machinery. No children at the dinner table. Just the tatter, tatter, tatter, of little fingers drumming repeatedly in their bedroom.
Soon Mr. and Mrs. Riley became alarmed. The yard was over-run with weeds, the garden unattended, and the poor dogs neglected. Then something peculiar happened. While the parents were out doing their son's chores, the boys were building something of their own creation.
Mrs. Riley first noticed it when she hauled a basket of laundry up the stairs and set it at the foot of their door. A long narrow slit with a push handle was carved in the bottom, with a sign which read: "Put food through slot."
Mrs. Riley knelt down on the floor and peered through the slot.
"Hello! Are you okay? Want some dinner?"
The only sound to be heard was the tatter, tatter, tatter, of little fingers drumming. She leaned in closer, but couldn't see anything. The room was dark, the shades drawn. She soon gave up and returned sometime later with a tray of sandwiches and milk, shoving it through the narrow gap. Then she waited. Nothing... Were they even alive? How could they survive without food?
Then she heard it again. Tatter, tatter, tatter, of little fingers drumming. She knew they were alive, but how? Mother shook her head in disgust and went downstairs to prepare dinner. Later she would check on them again and see if they had touched the tray.
After sunset, Mrs. Riley headed up the stairs. She leaned in nice and close and put her hand under the door slot. She felt the heaviness of the tray. Mrs. Riley pulled it out and started to scream. A scaly green hand had reached out to grab her. She saw it for a split second, before it retreated back under the door.
"Mike, Ian! Open this door at once!" she yelled through the gap. Then she waited. There wasn't a sound. Mrs. Riley was trembling as she carried the full tray down the stairs.
Mr. and Mrs. Riley had decided to call the cops by the next morning if their sons hadn't emerged before then. They sat on the front porch swing in the darkness, gazing at the stars. They rocked slowly back and forth, listening to the gentle sound of the crickets. Suddenly a loud banging on a window upstairs grabbed their attention. Mr. Riley ran into the house to grab the flashlight. He stood on the front lawn, flashing the light around the house. Nothing...
Mr. Riley was about to turn the light off, when a set of bright yellow eyes peered out through the boys bedroom window. Mr. Riley flashed it towards the window again, but saw only a drawn blind.
They were angry. Mr. Riley charged into the house and up the stairs, with his wife nervously behind. He was going to open the door one way or another. But when they reached the door, a new sign had replaced the old ones. This one read: "Please enter."
Mr. and Mrs. Riley stared at each other in surprise. Mr. Riley cautiously put his hand on the door handle as it slowly gave way. They inched it open carefully. The room was dark, the TV on, but the boys were nowhere to be seen.
While Mr. Riley checked under the beds, Mrs. Riley leaned towards the television, staring in disbelief. Then she let out a scream. Mr. Riley turned to his wife to see what the commotion was about. He covered his hands over his mouth, stifling a cry. Standing in front of them were Ian and Mike pounding on the TV screen. They were trapped inside an alien video game.
They were about to run from the room when the bedroom door slammed shut, and a pair of bright yellow eyes peered out at them through the darkness. The only sound to be heard that night was the echoes of screams coming from the bedroom, and the tatter, tatter, tatter, of large fingers drumming.