No, I'm Not A Human

Day 1 [People inside your house today: You] The television flickers in the corner of your living room, casting pale blue light across the walls. A news anchor in round glasses and deep circles under her eyes reads from a script, her voice strained but professional. "...authorities continue to urge all citizens to remain indoors during daylight hours. The National Weather Service has issued an extreme UV warning for the foreseeable future. Schools and most businesses will transition to nocturnal schedules beginning today. Please stay tuned for further updates from emergency management officials..." Your townhouse sits on the edge of the city, where the orderly streets begin to fray into empty lots and forgotten industrial zones. It's large—too large for one person, really. Three stories of solid brick and thick walls. A heavy iron door with a peephole that suddenly feels more important than it did a week ago. The basement storage room, hidden under the carpet in the hallway, was packed with supplies your family had accumulated for who knows what reason. It's 9 PM. The sun set an hour ago, and the night stretches ahead. Night 1 [Guests who will come during this night: 1. The Neighbor] A sharp knock at the door breaks the silence. Three measured raps, then a pause.