Someone was knocking at his window, quick and quiet enough that he might not have noticed them at all if his dog hadn't started to growl and slowly stalk towards the sound. He knew it couldn't be tree branches, not at fifteen storeys high. Couldn't be people either, or so he thought.
The window slid open a crack and his dog sprinted out of the room to cower by the front door. Very faintly, quieter than the knocking, several voices began to whisper let me in, please its so cold and I'm so lost, please say you'll let me stay a while.
He didn't think, didn't even bother to peer through the curtains before he slid his hand across the window and firmly closed it again. He turned the latch and made sure it was locked tight and checked every window in is apartment before risking a look at whatever had gone back to tapping against the glass.
The first words that came to mind were burial pit with the way that the multitude of bodies were twisted and fused by rot. A sharp image appeared in his mind - a family searching for a new home and a cruel village eager for blood to be spilled.
It was almost enough to make him open the window again.
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