Author's Notes:

This is the story of a man named Stanley.

Stanley yawned, not bothering to stifle the loud exhale as he swerved down a curve on the highway. The glint of green signs shimmering in the headlights flickered past as he picked up speed, the pouring rain drumming a heavy beat on his old tan Saturn.

It was a more comforting noise than that of the radio static. He tiredly rubbed his eyes with his forefingers, and ran a hand through his sandy hair. It did nothing to distract him from the aching tiredness that seemed to drag him down, though.

With the beginning of another yawn, Stanley sped over a large puddle spreading into the center of the road, a gift left behind by the growing rainstorm.

“Just ‘nother forty days and nights of this,” he mumbled jokingly to himself, rapping his knuckles on the faux leather steering wheel to keep himself awake. Blinking his wide brown eyes furiously, Stanley furrowed his brow and frowned hard, as if the facial actions could help him stay awake longer. He silently cursed himself for his sleep deprivation, and looked forward only to more insomnia when the cell phone in his pocket began vibrating loudly.

Stanley fumbled with it for a moment, unconsciously slowing down as he took another turn down the country lane, the wide fields around him flattened by pouring water. Blearily, he recognized the number and stuffed the cold phone to his ear, groping for the right buttons.

“What?” he said crankily into the receiver, his voice too loud. “Sean? What is it? What, what? Just hurry up, I don’t have all night.”

“Dude, chill,” he heard on the opposite end a little faintly, before realizing that he was holding the phone upside down. Swearing quietly, he struggled to tip it around without swerving off the road.

“Sean, I already told you,” Stanley tried not to yawn again. “I can’t go with you, man. Not tonight. I need sleep, uh… pullin’ a double tomorrow, shit –”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Sean’s course voice on the other end cutting him off. “Excuses, excuses. You just hate clubbing, admit it. That’s not what I called for, chill.”

A couple of heavy bolts of lightning streaked through the sky, forking into luminescent spears as they momentarily purged the clouds of darkness.

“Then spit it out already!” he grumbled, readjusting his grip on the wheel. It was getting more difficult to see out of the windshield through the rain, and the windshield wipers were doing all they could against the forces of nature. Still, he was tempted to simply pull over and wait until the storm had passed; at least it would get him a little time to sleep.

Or in all likelihood, stare at the velvety ceiling above him as he bitterly wished that he could fall asleep.

“Christ, who butt-fucked you with a pinecone today?” he could almost hear Sean grinning. “I was going to tell you that you left your wallet on your desk, but no~o.”

Stanley swore loudly again, cringing.

“Hang on, what were you doing at my desk?” he frowned again, becoming a little more alert.

“Spankin’ it to pictures of your girlfriend, like I always do,” Sean replied nonchalantly. “Duh.”

Stanley occasionally regretted assisting in getting Sean the janitor’s position at the small firm that he worked at; his friend from high school had a warped sense of humor.

“Unlock the doors for me?” Stanley groaned, looking for a spot to turn around, not looking forward to the long commute back. Another massive peal of lightning flared through the sky, striking the road ahead of him. This one, however, was so bright that he could have sworn that it was green, and the light burned into his eyes. It illuminated the entire cabin, and he jumped from the surprise.

“Pfft, ‘course, man,” Sean assured him. “Just hurry up, I don’t have all night.”

“Har de har,” he mumbled, his skin still prickling. “Hilar-”

Stanley’s voice faltered as he slammed on the brakes, panic overriding his senses as the shadowy figure rose before his car. He must have hit the brakes too late, because he watched what he vaguely guessed was an animal vanish beneath the hood of his car.

“Dammit!” he shouted, throwing the car into a parked position.

“Dude, it’s just a wallet,” Stanley heard Sean faintly. “If you’re that messed up about it, I could just drive out there, dog. It’s no biggie.”

“I’ve got to let you go,” Stanley breathed, pulling his jacket a little tighter to inspect the damage. “I think I hit a damned deer.”

“What, agai-?”

The beep of the phone as it was tossed onto the dashboard blared loudly, and Stanley angrily yanked the plastic hood over his head before slipping out of the car. Thankfully, the road seemed to be deserted; knowing his luck, someone would probably drive right into him in this kind of rain.

Just as he exited the vehicle, the freezing rain seemed to come down just a little bit harder than it had before, as if the universe itself were trying to spite him.

Viciously stomping through a puddle, Stanley huddled his thin clothes together and stepped around the front of the car, inspecting for the missing deer.

And then, Stanley received what was possibly the biggest shock of his life.

Stanley found the ‘damned deer’.

Tucked neatly beneath the car was a slim, black figure, and it was easy to see why he confused it for a deer; it closely resembled one. However, it was obviously alien in nature, as it had a pair of wet, svelte and insectile wings tucked tightly to its black sides. One of the wings was crumpled beneath it, along with one of its hooves.

The thing also seemed to be absolutely covered in holes, and not even bleeding from any of them. Stanley actually had to do a double take – and then a double double take, the confusion and shock growing. He could see through the holes…

It even appeared to have a jagged, upwardly curving horn attached to its head, reaching upward through damp seaweed colored mane. Another small growth atop its head seemed to be in the shape of a little black crown, strangely. Stanley couldn’t even feel the icy water penetrating his slacks as he knelt on the ground by this point.

And it’s face, though.

It’s face.

It was deeply disturbing, seeing so human an expression on the creature’s face; one that was easily recognized. Stanley could tell that, even if he weren’t kneeling before it. It looked at him with an expression of both exhaustion and pain.

The long, twitching lashes as the creature’s vibrantly green eyes met his own for a single moment fluttered down eventually, and it passed out. The thing’s head hit the soaked pavement with a wet splat, unable to put forth the effort to continue straining and keeping its – no, her – head off the ground.

For the longest time, Stanley simply stared at the thing.

Hands on his legs as he knelt, shaking in the cold downpour. Just as the creature before him was, coincidentally. What he needed to do was pull himself up, dig through his car, and call the police. He needed to call a magazine, a television company, something. Stanley was looking at an alien, for god’s sake. This was the kind of thing that someone was remembered forever for. He could make quite the fortune for this happenstance, especially since it looked to still be alive, even if only barely.

It was.

It was only barely alive.

And shivering. Cold. Battered.

Alone.

And the look of agony, of pain it had given him, hadn’t it seemed to be tinged with sorrow–

“Goddammit,” Stanley huffed as his dreams of fame and fortune were tossed away, his cursing muffled by the rain as he began to help the wounded changeling from beneath his car.