Ron Dewitte was settling down for a good night’s sleep after a long day of work. “Ahh… Finally!” he thought, “I can get some hard-earned sleep!” He was just drifting off into dreamland, when he was suddenly woken by a violent bang.
“W-wh-whuzzat?” he slurred, confused and disoriented. He stumbled out of bed and grabbed his Winchester shotgun from where it was leaning against his nightstand. He clomped his way through the house and out the front door.
“Who the hell’s there?!” he shouted, “I know yer out there! I heard ya crashin’ around! Just come on out, and nobody needs to get shot! Okay?” As he was saying, or rather, shouting this, he was creeping around his house, looking for traces of someone skulking around. After a short time, he started to get an odd feeling. A feeling of, wrongness. Something was just, wrong, about this entire situation. As Ron was preparing to head back in, having found nothing new around the house, he heard the boom again, but it was deeper. This time, it sounded more like a roll of thunder than a gun going off. He paused, listening carefully. The boom sounded off again, deeper still, accompanied by a rumbling sound growing in intensity. Ron began to look around nervously, trying to identify the source of this odd noise. There were no clouds in sight, in any direction. So where was this thundering and rumbling coming from? Without warning, the rumbling escalated into a sound like the sustained firing of heavy artillery. Simultaneously, a reddish glow began to light the area up ever so slightly. Ron was panicking now. He couldn’t see