A dim sun is mere inches from setting. Pale blue shifts into a darker navy in the sky, and wisps of gray can be seen against it. Overhead trees are dancing in tandem with a soft breeze. Leaves are quiet as they brush against each other. 

Crickets are chirping. Cicadas are singing. And the walls have begun to rise.

Jason is standing on his front porch with stiff posture; his hands are balled into tight fists. He can see some of his neighbors standing outside as well. His eyes are glued onto a thick, reflective slab which is slowly rising from the street curb. Loud metallic grinding encompasses the surrounding area. The lawn, plants, and house are engulfed in shadow with every inch of ascending metal. 

As he looks up, Jason sees other walls in his peripheral vision. He takes a moment to close his eyes. His fists tighten even further. His heart is hammering in his chest. His bottom lip is chewed with such vigor, he begins to bleed. Stiff shoulders hop when screeching metal stops.

Green eyes open. Jason gasps as he takes in the sight of a chalked illustration in front of him. When he looks around, he notices similar designs on other walls.

He's been marked.

An immediate sense of dread sets in. The man can't help but sob when tears sting his eyes. He knows what this means; he knows that he's next to be taken. Because that's what happens here in Tasben. 

Walls stand triumphantly at night as a means of protecting its inhabitants. A few months ago, people started disappearing-- they have been labeled the Marked Ones. Hushed stories have been circling around about slabs of metal being marred by the same chalky illustration in front of Jason. It's said that when someone is chosen-- when someone has been marked-- they're never seen again. And with certain neighboring houses having suddenly gone vacant, it's hard to say that such a statement is false.

Jason doesn't waste any more time. He rushes into his house, and locks the door behind him. Every single window is shut. Curtains are drawn in order to further shield his house's interior. Fast paced footsteps rush to a small bedroom. The frightened man doesn't bother turning on any lights-- he doesn't want it to seem like he's actually home. He feels around blindly underneath his bed until his hand makes contact with cold metal. A loaded shotgun is brought out. Shaking hands take a more secure hold of the weapon. Both appendages clench in response to a light knock coming from the front door.

It's too dark to really see who or what is standing outside; there isn't enough light to see a shadow. As he skulks toward the door, Jason notices how the chalk drawings around his house seem to be glowing. A strange whirring sound is coming from them. His face scrunches up when a wooden floorboard cries beneath him. His handle on the gun tightens even further.

The man does his best to remain quiet when he leans his head against the door with his ear resting on its surface. Aside from the whirring, he doesn't hear anything. No footsteps, no breathing-- nothing. It makes him believe for a fleeting second that the knock he heard was a figment of his imagination. It proves to be quite real though, when another can be heard. This time, it comes from the front door and a neighboring window. He gulps. Knocks continue to ring out until it sounds like every section of the house is assaulted by loud banging. It's enough to make Jason drop his weapon so he can shied his ears. He falls to the floor in a heap of trembles.

He freezes in response to the sound of a lock unbolting. A metal doorknob is turned. Teary eyes slowly ascend in order to take in the figure of whoever is coming into his house. The front door is pushed open. It slams against the wall behind it. Fear is overtaken by shock and confusion. Jason gawks at a tall figure with a lanky physique. It has large black eyes which make up over half of its face. Slimy, gray tinged skin is draped over sharp bones. Long fingers are holding a piece of chalk.

Is that...is that an alien?

Before Jason can further question the scenario he's in, whirring gets louder. Grinding metal joins in. The creature opens its mouth. A beam of blinding light comes from it. Everything is engulfed in white.

Once it's gone, both individuals have disappeared. All that's left in their wake is an abandoned shotgun.