It was roughly two in the morning when you were awoken from a very strange dream about trying to convince a clown who only spoke Russian that no, you really didn't want a life-size balloon animal of a tiger that was also somehow a real tiger. You very much did not want it. But the clown smiled serenely and chattered away amicably in Russian and kept insisting that you accept the balloon animal, and no amount of protesting could stop him from trying to force it into your arms.
At first, you weren't sure what had woken you up, but as you walked down the hallway and descended the stairs, you heard it again- a faint but insistent scratching sound, and as you padded through the living room, you realized it was coming from the front door.
You made a face, wrinkling your nose and scrunching up your mouth, because you assumed that it was yet another person sent from the power company, or the phone company, or the gas company, or any of the other companies who were clamoring over the Arkensi household's numerous unpaid bills. It did strike you as odd that one would come so late at night, but you'd met some very odd collection people in the past four years that you'd had to routinely dodge them, and it wouldn't be the first time one had showed up at some strange hour with a bill they demanded you pay.
Still, you grumbled and opened the door anyway, about to tell the representative who was here to harass you to get lost, but when the door was open, no one was there.
Confused, you looked around. You looked to the right- no one. You looked to the left- still no one. This was bizarre, had it just been a prank? You weren't unused to neighborhood kids playing ding-dong-ditch on the neighborhood kook. You were about to close the door when something whimpered, and you looked down.
Cowering on your porch, bruised and battered, was a tiny troll, no bigger than a seven-year-old human child. And she looked hurt.
The little girl was clutching at her side with one hand- the other hung limp, like it was broken and she couldn't move it. Maybe that was the case
You stood there stupidly for a second, looking down at the tiny troll staring up at you. One of her eyes was screwed up, shut tight like it was trying to block something out. You noticed a strange line of liquid running down her forehead. Blood, maybe? In the dim light, you couldn't be sure. A second passed, then another. And another. And then you said, "Do you want to come inside? It's raining out here."
The frail troll climbed shakily to her feet, and with difficulty, you supporting her weight more than she was supporting herself, you ushered her inside./p