Chapter Text
It happened suddenly.
Suddenly, but not without a warning. 72 hours, Bill said.
Ford had more locks on his front door than he could count on one hand (which was saying something, especially for him), but locks don't matter to a creature that can squish and fold itself to fit through the tiniest of spaces. Ford didn't even see the moment when the eye-stealer flattened itself and slid inside in the thin space beneath his front door.
One moment, Ford was safe—or at least as safe as he could be, given his circumstances. The next moment, he turned around, and the creature was there.
Ford fired the crossbow in self-defense at the sight of this eldritch horror in his home, but its body was like liquid, and it opened a hole in itself for the arrow to harmlessly pass through before bringing itself back together again.
And then it pinned Ford to the ground using 10 of its long spindly limbs. Ford struggled futilely in its grasp. He knew what was going to happen next. Bill made himself quite clear. Ford looked up, terrified, at the creature’s skeletal face. Its face was dotted with what appeared to be four eye sockets with nothing but emptiness inside each one. How kind of Bill to provide Ford with a sneak peak at what Ford's own face would look like soon, since he won’t be able to see himself in a mirror.
Two additional limbs emerged from the creature’s torso. Each limb was tipped in a hand that was mostly claws, and each of those claws were like daggers.
“P-please no…” Ford whimpered helplessly, trying to turn his head away. The creature reached one hand out to grab him by the hair, yanking his head back into position so that Ford was directly facing the beast. It used its foremost left hand to hold Ford’s head still, as its corresponding right arm spread out its claws mere inches away from Ford’s face.
“PLEASE DON’T DO IT, I… I’LL…” he tried to beg, but what was there to say? “I’ll open the portal”? He wouldn’t say that. If he did, it would be a lie. But maybe that lie would buy him just a bit more time to—
His thoughts were interrupted by a stabbing pain in the left side of his face. The vision in Ford’s left eye was clouded by murky red, before going dark entirely. Ford let out a guttural, animalistic scream as he felt the claws reach deeper into the socket, scraping against the edge of the bone. With his remaining eye, Ford looked up to see the creature still staring down at him, indifferent, with its own empty sockets. The creature seemed to show no remorse but also took no sadistic pleasure in the job. This was just business, probably.
Ford felt something pulling on his skull, and then there was a snap, and the pulling sensation was gone. Between the unbearable pain and the tears filling his other eye, Ford could only just barely see the creature open its jaws. He saw the creature holding something in its mouth. Something… tadpole-shaped?
It took a moment for Ford to recognize the round object as his own detached eye, the optic nerve dangling out of the creature’s mouth like a sad tail.
The bloodied hand that removed Ford’s left eye clamped down on his forehead, and the hand it had been using to hold its head in place let go and spread its claws apart in front of Ford’s right eye.
“STOP! You have what you need now!” Ford pleaded. Bill would be able to use the detached eye to unlock the retinal scanner. It’s over. Bill won. “YOU DON’T NEED TO—AAUGH!” the eye thief apparently didn't care as it plunged its left hand into Ford’s right eye socket. Just like before, Ford felt the terrible pain, the pulling sensation, and the snap of his optic nerve as it detached. But there was nothing left to see as the creature finally released its grip on the man, its job complete. Ford could just barely hear the creature scurry away over the sound of his own ragged breathing.
Ford was blind, alone, and defeated. He would cry if he was still physically able. Blood dripping down the sides of his face, he left himself sprawled out on the floor of his home, making no attempt to pull himself to his feet because, well, what was left to do? Weirdmaggedon would start any moment now, and Ford would be helpless to stop it.
He'd been bested. Game over.
But seconds passed, and then minutes. And Ford heard no signs of Bill's planned apocalypse taking place.
Ford eventually pried himself off the blood-stained floor. Dazed by blood loss, he tried to think of what his next course of action should be. He should probably… take care of the wounds in his face, he figured. There was a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet. But which way was the bathroom? Ford held his arms out to both sides, hoping one of them would come in contact with a wall, and he could maybe cling to that wall in an attempt to navigate the house. But he felt no walls within arm's reach. He didn't know which way he was facing or which direction the bathroom was, let alone any room in his house, was. Oh God, I’m blind. The realization sent his head reeling. What am I supposed to do now? Ford would be blind for the rest of his life, he realized, which may not be much longer if the wounds in his face were to get infected. But how was he supposed to clean and bandage the wounds if he couldn't even find the first aid kit? How am I supposed to do anything?
His blood ran cold as he heard a knock at the front door. Without his eyesight, he felt more weak and vulnerable than ever. Who else had come after him? And what were they planning to do? Sure, that door had about eight locks on it, but that didn’t stop the monster that stole his eyes.
The knocking persisted, and Ford was frozen in fear. He couldn't defend himself. He couldn't do anything. How was he supposed to—
“Um, hello? Ford?” an unmistakably familiar voice called from the other side of the door, speaking loudly to be heard between knocks. “Are you home? I got your, uh… I got the postcard.”
Oh, right. The postcard.