At one point in everyone’s life, we check for monsters under the bed. As a kid, when something goes bump in the middle of the night, it’s straight to calling mom or dad, or hiding under the sheets.
I used to be one of those kids. Everything about to be revealed took place last night following to now, early in the morning. I only have a minute to write this, whatever the hell it is, it’s violently banging it’s body against the bathroom door, trying to get to me.
I won’t have the same fate as Mitchie.
Last night, I was tucking my son, Mitch, aka Mitchie, into bed. He’s 6 years old, and a ball of energy with a hyperactive imagination.
After reading him his bedtime story, he asked me to check for monsters under his bed. I, amused, got on my knees to look under his bed. There was nothing there. Suddenly, a scratching, long and drawn out, just one slow scratch down the closet door. I exchanged looks with my son, he was visibly scared. I tried to hide my fear from him. “No monsters under here, but if you’re still scared, you can come sleep in my bed.” I told him, motioning a panicked hand shuffling to the door.
He tearfully said okay, and I took his hand to walk out of the room with me. After we were outside, I closed his door, picked him up, and rushed to my bedroom.
I opened my own closet door, no thing, whatever that just was, in it. I quietly pushed back a stack of shoeboxes to the side, and tucked my son into the gap. I hid him using the shoeboxes and pulled over some hung up clothes to cover the rest.
I ran to grab my phone off of the charger and go into the attached bathroom, shut the door so my son wouldn’t hear and get scared, and call the police.
I guess my running was a bad idea. I called the cops, they said they were sending 2 nearby cars there, but they weren’t gonna be here for 5 more minutes, and I hung up. As I did so, I heard my door burst open.
Shit. I didn’t lock it, why didn’t I lock it?!
I panicked and locked the door. I prayed my son was safe. I heard faint whimpers from right outside the door. My son. He was right outside the door. Right in that closet. Whatever that thing is, it’s here. It can hear him too.
The closet door is slowly creaked open by that thing. I hear screams. Bones cracking. Blood splattering. I cried an accidental sob.
Then nothing. It was dead silent.
I knew I was next, slow footsteps, and then the next moment there it was, banging on the door. This is where I am now. The monster is now banging it’s full, inhuman body weight into the door, the creature broke a small bit of wood off of the bottom corner where I can see it’s messed up claws. Claws, sharp, blood coated, inhuman, not animal, massive, claws.
This is where it ends, I’m not gonna make it.