It was a little past twelve o’clock at night, Monday of last week, when I first heard scuffling. I was in the bedroom of my new apartment, freshly moved in with boxes still stacked in the corners of the space. I was on the verge of sleep, exhausted from a long day of moving. My eyes cracked open though, as the sound caught my attention.
My room is fairly large, with my bed and dresser against one wall. On the other side is the door to the bathroom, and a medium-sized closet. In the darkness, I could only make out the faint silhouettes of objects.
I quietly lifted my head from my pillow, peaking over the edge of the covers. Several moments passed in silence. Then I saw something emerge from under my bed.
It was small, about the size of a Jack Russel Terrier. It walked on four legs and had a short, slender tail. I might’ve assumed it was a wild animal, maybe a racoon, if it weren’t for the crest of pointed spines that ran along its back. As well, its limbs were strange. The placement of the joints gave it the look of a primate, and I thought I could make out small fingers at the ends of its feet.
It probed the ground with a sharp snout, as it cautiously crept out from beneath my bedframe. I watched as it explored the room, slinking close to the floor. It sniffed around my belongings as if assessing new additions to its territory. Then it paused and turned towards me. I saw two round, glowing yellow eyes.
It stared in my direction for maybe four or five seconds, and I must admit, my heart rate may have quickened slightly. Then its gaze shifted, and it went back to its business.
I rolled over, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. WHAT THE HELL? Are you crazy? There’s a monster in your bedroom and you’re just going to ignore it?
Here’s the deal: All my life, I’ve seen things. Things that aren’t there.
It started when I was a kid. I don’t remember this, but my mom says that when I was five, we were at the park, and I started pointing towards a patch of trees. “Do you see the man with no eyes mommy?” I asked her. There was nobody there.
My parents tried putting me on different medications, but none of them seemed to help. I’ve seen countless doctors in my life, and in the end, they’ve all thrown up their hands. Of course, the obvious diagnosis is schizophrenia. I don’t suffer from auditory hallucinations—hearing voices and all that— or any paranoia. In fact, I think most people who know me would say I’m a pretty normal, well-adjusted person. Boring even. I’ve never had trouble with school or holding down a job. I just see creepy shit sometimes.
Mostly I see people. Sometimes they’re dressed in normal clothes, other times old-fashioned ones. I’ll be out on the street, or in a building, and notice one nearby. What makes them stand out is that they don’t tend to move. That, and a few of them don’t have faces. Occasionally they’ll be staring at a wall, or lying on the floor facedown. They’re usually pretty easy to ignore.
I’ve seen other things too though. One time, when I was on vacation at Cannon Beach with my family, some clouds shifted, and I saw something in the sky. It was massive, like the death star. It looked like some kind of structure, made up of giant, interlocking gold rings. The creepy part was, the rings were all covered in eyes. I watched as it drifted off across the ocean.
So yeah, I’m not exactly stunned when I see something out of the ordinary.
Still! I hear you say, shouldn’t you have been a little bit frightened?!
Well, here’s one more story for you: when I was eleven my family moved into a new house. There were only two bedrooms, and my parents were in the master. I begged them not to make me sleep in the other one. Want to know why?
Plastered to the ceiling right above my bed was this emaciated, naked old man. He looked at least seventy or eighty with mad-scientist hair and a scraggily beard. His face was fixed in a permanent scream, eyes wide and mouth open, with no sound. He didn’t move at all, just lay there, rag-dolled on the ceiling.
Every night for three years I went to sleep with that man silently screaming down at me.
That’s why I wasn’t going to let some little monster rob me of a good night’s rest.
The next five days I went about my routine like normal. I moved the rest of my stuff into the apartment and unpacked it. I settled myself in. I never saw the creature during the daylight, it stayed hidden away. I figured it for nocturnal.
Around the same time every night, I’d hear it creep out from under the bed. I’d watch as it paced around the room, idly sniffing at the new additions to the space. It seemed indifferent to my presence—not surprising, all the things I see are. That’s why I’ve never been too afraid of them, they always ignore me. It’s like they inhabit a different realm of existence, separate from us. I’ve seen real people walk right through them.
I came to find the creature’s presence sort of comforting. I conceptualized him as a guard dog, watching out for me while I slept. I even gave him a name: “Spikey.”
Still, there was one thing that began to unsettle me. I noticed that in all of Spikey’s roaming, he always stayed on one side of the room. He never went to the other end, with the bathroom and the closet.
It was like there was an invisible boundary, keeping him out.
The closet was empty—I’d put all of my clothes in the dresser. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but something about it made me uncomfortable. I’d get a cold feeling when I walked past it to get to the bathroom. Of course, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it, it was just a three foot by three foot square of empty space and two folding doors. I had no reason to find it frightening, that is, until a few nights ago.
I was lying in bed and as usual, Spikey was on his patrol. I was on the verge of drifting off when suddenly, I heard a noise coming from the other side of the room.
It immediately made the hairs on my arms stand on end. It was low and thick, like a drumbeat. But mixed in was a higher pitch, almost like… singing.
I told myself it was just the apartment’s wiring acting up and was going to doze off when I heard something else, a deep growl.
I glanced up and saw Spikey standing in the middle of the room, right at the edge of his territory. His spines were all raised, like the hackles on a dog, and he held his body low, in a defensive posture. The growl was heavy, more scared than angry. His eyes were fixed directly on the closet doors.
The low sound slowly died off. After maybe thirty minutes or so, Spikey seemed to relax somewhat. He retreated, disappearing under the bed.
The next day, I took a closer look at the closet. Once again, I found nothing out of the ordinary about it, besides the unsettling feeling it raised in the pit of my stomach. I pushed it down.
I got into bed that night and drifted off.
I was awoken suddenly by Spikey’s growling. This time he wasn’t at the boundary, the noise was coming from directly beneath me, under the bed.
Once again, I heard the low hum and the high-pitched singing. This time though, it was accompanied by another sound. The sound of closet doors squeaking open.
Now I felt genuinely afraid. My heart drummed in my chest. I’m not sure if it fully registered in my brain in the moment, but the fact that the doors opened could only mean one thing: whatever was behind them could interact with the real world.
Looking over my covers, I saw something emerge from the closet.
It was massive, so massive that it seemed to fill up the entire side of the room. The ceiling was too low for it, it had to hunch over to fit within the space.
It was humanoid, at a glance at least. Tall and wiry like a basketball player. At first, I thought it was wearing some kind of cloak, before I realized what I was truly looking at. It had layers and layers of extra arms sprouting from its torso, like branches on a tree. Even in the darkness, I could tell that it must be pitch-dark in color. It looked like a black hole, an empty void in space.
The humming and singing intensified. The sound was almost beautiful, like a siren song, beckoning. The creature turned its gaze on me. But it wasn’t like the other apparitions. I knew in my gut: this thing saw me.
It began stalking across the room, its dozens of limbs bristling off one another as it went. I was paralyzed—too terrified to move. A horrible, morbid feeling rose inside me. I had an eerie premonition, of the creature leaning down and enfolding me in its many arms. It wouldn’t kill me. It would take me.
The creature was almost at the foot of my bed. I braced myself. Just then I heard an almighty howl. I saw a streak of darkness shoot towards the creature. As the thing collided with it, it let out a low moan and stumbled backwards.
Spikey! I realized all at once. He’d leapt onto the monster.
The two of them tussled, the closet monster doubling over and reaching out with its many arms.
My adrenaline suddenly kicked in, and I saw my opportunity. I dove out of bed and threw open the door to my room. I escaped down the hallway, heading straight for the door to my apartment. Behind me, I heard a howl, which elevated to a shrieking cry. There was no mistaking it… it was the sound of an animal being torn apart.
Thank you Spikey, I thought with a grimace. Then I was out the door.
I’ve been staying with my parents for the last few days. I haven’t told them why, it’s all too scary to relive. Plus, I’m afraid they might throw me in a mental asylum if they knew the truth.
Of course, all my stuff is still in the apartment. At some point, I’ll need to go back for it.
What should I do?