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Description
Luther.

Luther pulled into a driveway, and shut his car off. His hand was no longer bleeding, so he was carrying on with his God-given duty. He wasn't sure why his hand had been bleeding, but he guessed it was just a paper cut from one of his pamplets.
Luther stepped out of his car, with a booklet tucked away securely in his suit jacket. He rushed to the porch of the house, which was unfortunately uncovered. The rain was falling in fast tiny droplets that hit Luther's skin like pin pricks. He leaped up the stairs to the porch, and jammed his finger into the doorbell. I hope whoever answers the door will allow me to come inside to talk. Luther hoped as he bit his lip anxiously.
After a pause, the door opened to a small boy. He looked up at Luther, and his eyes widened.
"Hi, is your mo-" Luther started, but was cut off by the boy, who screamed and closed the door quickly. Luther furrowed his brow slightly in confusion.
After a pause, the door opened again, this time to a woman. She was holding the boy, who had his face buried in her shoulder. She opened her mouth to talk, but cut off and gasped.
"Hi, I'm Luther of The-" Luther was cut off again, as the woman slammed the door shut. Luther furrowed his brow further. I suppose I will have to come back another time when they are more open to talk. Luther thought, as he turned back to his car. The rain soaked him as he rushed along the path. He reached for the car door's handle, but stopped short.
His hand was covered in blood.

Rob Tredweigh

There was a silence in the meeting room as everyone sat uncomfortably in the darkness, some still disgusted by what had happened to the pigeon, others unsure of what was happening.
"A power line was probably knocked down." Mr. Roid said, trying to explain it off. "I'm sure it will be back soon. Mr. Jenkins, if you would continue?"
"What happened to that bird?" Carla Simmons asked, her brow furrowed in the darkness. "What was that thing that hit it?"
"I..." Mr. Roid hesitated unsuredly. "It was probably another bird. It must have flew into one of the windows on another floor, and fallen on the first bird." Roid explained, but he didn't seem to completely believe what he said.
"Birds don't splat!" Tom Greenwich said bluntly. "I heard more of those things hit windows. Birds make a thud sound when they hit windows. I heard splats!"
Mr. Roid opened his mouth a few times wordlessly, searching for a plausible explanation. His search was interupted as the door to the meeting room opened.
A beam of light from a flash light pointed in, as Shirley the secratery stepped in.
"Is everyone alright?" Shirley asked, her normally sweet voice tainted with fear. "I took the stairway when the power went out."
"We're fine, Shirley." Mr. Roid said.
There was a pause as Shirley stood awkwardly in the doorframe, seemingly afraid to leave the room. Shirley was a young girl. Rob guessed her to be in her mid to late twenties. Rob couldn't blame her for being frightened. He was a little disturbed himself.
Mr. Roid straightened his throat through the silence as he folded his hands anxiously on the table. He seemed more than willing to get back to the meeting, but no one moved or said anything.
The silence was broken by another loud splootch! that hit one of the windows. The room seemed to collectively start, and Shirley let out a quick gasp.
"What was that?" She asked nervously.
Her question was greeted with an uncomfortable silence as a few more things splootch!ed against the building and windows. After a few minutes of solid silence, Rob stood up from his chair. Everyone turned silently toward him, and watched as he walked over to the window with a forced casuality. He looked out the window, watching the rain fall quickly down to the road far below.
Rob glanced down at the street below, doing his best not to let vertigo set in. Something seemed wrong about the street below...
No one was walking.
There were usually a mass of pedestrians about at this time. Going to work, going to an early lunch, running errands. But no one was down there.
Rob's sightseeing was interupted as a large glop of goo splootch!ed on the window directly in front of his face, causing him jump back slightly.
The blob was a white-ish clear-ish color, which slowly oozed it's way down the window. It's appearance reminded Rob of a few things, none of which he particularly thought this thing was.
"What is that?" Shirley asked, still standing nervously in the doorframe.
Her question was again greeted with silence. Even Mr. Roid didn't know what it was.

Description
Luther.

Luther pulled into a driveway, and shut his car off. His hand was no longer bleeding, so he was carrying on with his God-given duty. He wasn't sure why his hand had been bleeding, but he guessed it was just a paper cut from one of his pamplets.
Luther stepped out of his car, with a booklet tucked away securely in his suit jacket. He rushed to the porch of the house, which was unfortunately uncovered. The rain was falling in fast tiny droplets that hit Luther's skin like pin pricks. He leaped up the stairs to the porch, and jammed his finger into the doorbell. I hope whoever answers the door will allow me to come inside to talk. Luther hoped as he bit his lip anxiously.
After a pause, the door opened to a small boy. He looked up at Luther, and his eyes widened.
"Hi, is your mo-" Luther started, but was cut off by the boy, who screamed and closed the door quickly. Luther furrowed his brow slightly in confusion.
After a pause, the door opened again, this time to a woman. She was holding the boy, who had his face buried in her shoulder. She opened her mouth to talk, but cut off and gasped.
"Hi, I'm Luther of The-" Luther was cut off again, as the woman slammed the door shut. Luther furrowed his brow further. I suppose I will have to come back another time when they are more open to talk. Luther thought, as he turned back to his car. The rain soaked him as he rushed along the path. He reached for the car door's handle, but stopped short.
His hand was covered in blood.

Rob Tredweigh

There was a silence in the meeting room as everyone sat uncomfortably in the darkness, some still disgusted by what had happened to the pigeon, others unsure of what was happening.
"A power line was probably knocked down." Mr. Roid said, trying to explain it off. "I'm sure it will be back soon. Mr. Jenkins, if you would continue?"
"What happened to that bird?" Carla Simmons asked, her brow furrowed in the darkness. "What was that thing that hit it?"
"I..." Mr. Roid hesitated unsuredly. "It was probably another bird. It must have flew into one of the windows on another floor, and fallen on the first bird." Roid explained, but he didn't seem to completely believe what he said.
"Birds don't splat!" Tom Greenwich said bluntly. "I heard more of those things hit windows. Birds make a thud sound when they hit windows. I heard splats!"
Mr. Roid opened his mouth a few times wordlessly, searching for a plausible explanation. His search was interupted as the door to the meeting room opened.
A beam of light from a flash light pointed in, as Shirley the secratery stepped in.
"Is everyone alright?" Shirley asked, her normally sweet voice tainted with fear. "I took the stairway when the power went out."
"We're fine, Shirley." Mr. Roid said.
There was a pause as Shirley stood awkwardly in the doorframe, seemingly afraid to leave the room. Shirley was a young girl. Rob guessed her to be in her mid to late twenties. Rob couldn't blame her for being frightened. He was a little disturbed himself.
Mr. Roid straightened his throat through the silence as he folded his hands anxiously on the table. He seemed more than willing to get back to the meeting, but no one moved or said anything.
The silence was broken by another loud splootch! that hit one of the windows. The room seemed to collectively start, and Shirley let out a quick gasp.
"What was that?" She asked nervously.
Her question was greeted with an uncomfortable silence as a few more things splootch!ed against the building and windows. After a few minutes of solid silence, Rob stood up from his chair. Everyone turned silently toward him, and watched as he walked over to the window with a forced casuality. He looked out the window, watching the rain fall quickly down to the road far below.
Rob glanced down at the street below, doing his best not to let vertigo set in. Something seemed wrong about the street below...
No one was walking.
There were usually a mass of pedestrians about at this time. Going to work, going to an early lunch, running errands. But no one was down there.
Rob's sightseeing was interupted as a large glop of goo splootch!ed on the window directly in front of his face, causing him jump back slightly.
The blob was a white-ish clear-ish color, which slowly oozed it's way down the window. It's appearance reminded Rob of a few things, none of which he particularly thought this thing was.
"What is that?" Shirley asked, still standing nervously in the doorframe.
Her question was again greeted with silence. Even Mr. Roid didn't know what it was.