Stranger {Chapter 3}

Vertigo multi-portion fanfic of the searing portraits-series of masked/wiry home-invasion eeriness on Earth.

The Strangers adaptation/fanfiction work, in multiple parts (Chs 1-6) with some tic-tac-toe allusion/fun/darkness. Thanks so much for reading (Happy Weekend), 

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Amlan wondered what the Hell he'd think-up as strategy on that Halloween season day, after the sun downed and darkness came and the masked 'Stranger' woman still leered outside his suburbia-window and made him wonder why his cyber-teachings of tic-tac-toe game boards of simplicity/smiles 'moved' the psycho-sensation lady to make 'mark' of him for stalking/jitters (Selfie-like).

POLICE: Still there, Satan?
AMLAN: This is beyond smiles and cries, sir (damn).

POLICE: So, this masked Halloween-season tic-tac-toe hater still lurks, Satan?

AMLAN: I tell you true, this 'Stranger' has my cyber-teachings of the game Hell.

POLICE: Heaven and Hell, for Halloween in suburbia, for tic-tac-toe funny.

AMLAN: Still hoping you'll send that patroller so I'm not to save my own keep, sir.

POLICE: Maybe I will do just that, and you keep good-luck face, Satan (see).

The Stranger was still there, and now she came up with another dash of ingenuity for darkness, after Amlan Satan decided to launch a flare after running out his back sliding-glass door to scream something out to his neighbors that Halloween season of October on Earth. The police were chuckling, and Satan knew it (well). What would/could he do to shoo her away from his haven in the American Homeland, where tic-tac-toe cyber-class made him (otherwise) feel sharp/shiny (for the Ego)? Just as he decided to sit idly and eat more bread and keep staring at her out his window, she procured some mystery red fluid and splashed a tad on his window...and this really gave him jitters. This was not cinema-like.

AMLAN: "Note-to-self...the Stranger is still my Devil's Advocate, and this is (way) beyond tic-tac-toe niceties for Halloween prank stories-to-tell (wow)...I'm guessing now that splash of red-liquid on my cherished suburbia-window has me marking what's Heaven/Hell here, and my neighbors are death-quiet as are the police here/now...the flares don't work...and I'm resolving to make some kind of dash maybe out the back sliding glass-door after I keep insinuating to her through the window we now share (for leviathan/uncertainty) that I'm merely a man-of-knucklebones (ok)."

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)