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Timmy sat up in bed at the noise. He shuddered and pulled his blanket up close. What could be making that noise now? He looked at his clock. Three in the morning. He took a deep breath. He was fourteen now. He didn’t believe in monsters anymore. A creak ran through his room. He looked over. His closet door creaked open and he saw something emerge. A big claw hand silhouetted in the pale moonlight. Timmy opened his mouth to scream….

And slammed into his floor. He opened his eyes. It was daylight. He stood up and shook his head. A dream. He went to his closet and checked the door. Nothing inside. He sighed and began to get ready for school. He really needed to stop eating junk food at night.

{c}* * * * *
Timmy slept soundly that night until he heard it again.
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His eyes opened at the noise. He shook his head.
“Just a dream...” he mumbled as he closed his eyes.
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His eyes shot open again and he sat up. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He looked at the closet door. Nothing there.
“I’m imagining it all.” He said,
“Oh really Timmy? Then who am I?” Timmy yelped then began to cower again.
“Who are you?” he cried.
“Apparently I’m not real. Unless you still believe in monsters Timmy…”
“I don’t. I’m too old for that now. This is a dream.” Timmy said confidently as he sat up straight.
“Then why do you close the closet door at night?”
“Because…uhh…because….” Timmy stopped. He was awestruck. He still did believe in monsters. Hence the closing of the door every night.
“You still believe. Which makes you the best food for me.”
“Food? Are you really going to eat me?”
“Not you per se. But your soul. I kill you first, painfully. It makes the soul taste so much better.”
“But you can’t be real!!” Timmy shrieked.
“I’ll show you how real I am.” The monster thundered. Two huge clawed hands shot out from other the bed followed by a cracking noise. The hands grabbed Timmy’s bed and began to rip it. Timmy screamed at the top of his lungs. The hands came closer and closer to him. The door banged open. Timmy turned his head. His parents. The rational center of the family.
“Mom! Dad! Help me!!!!” he shrieked. His parents looked awestruck.
“What the fuck is that?” his dad yelled. At this, Timmy’s face dropped. His parents were supposed to be the center of rational thought. He remembered when he was six. His parents always checked for monsters under his bed for him and as he grew older, they told him that monsters didn’t exist. The fact that they could see this one killed all hope for Timmy. The monster’s hands let go of Timmy’s bed, impossibly twisted and grew and then grabbed his parents.
“Everyone still believes Timmy. You can’t run from monsters!!” the voice thundered. Timmy’s parents began to scream as the hands began to drag them under the bed.
“They’ll make yummy snacks. Then you’ll be next!” the monster said. Timmy sat in horror as his parents were dragged under and then vanished. Their screams echoed in his ears. He jumped off his bed and turned on the light. He could clearly see a huge hole in the floor. His parents. But what could he do? He thought then gasped. He remembered what the monster had said.
“Then why do you close the closet door at night?” Maybe…yes! That was it!!
“I do believe in monsters, but I don’t believe they can hurt me. They draw their strength from faith, but maybe faith can hurt them!” he said. He smiled and laughed. He was going to get his parents back. But first things first. He ran to his parents’ room. His dad kept a gun in the closet. He grabbed it and opened the box. No need to keep it locked. He was an only child and knew well enough not to touch. Except for this. It was an emergency. He loaded it and ran back to his room. Taking a deep breath he jumped into the hole.
{c}* * * * *
If you were standing in Timmy’s room you would’ve heard this:
“So, Timmy decided to come and die early?”
“I don’t believe you can hurt me. I’m not afraid of you!”
“Little boy, you think that will work?” This is followed by a scream and a ripping noise. “Your blood is already an exquisite appetizer. I can’t wait to see how your soul tastes.” Screams can be heard now followed by several gunshots. Then the screams get louder followed by a grotesque ripping noise. An inhuman sound of feasting can be heard, then the floorboards in Timmy’s room repair themselves and all is quiet again.
{c}* * * * *
Two years later a new family moved into the house. Small family. A husband and wife and their one child, a fifteen year old boy named Rick. Rick moved into Timmy’s old room. He knew nothing about what had happened there before. Rick just wanted to listen to his music in the dark. He didn’t believe in monsters and he didn’t care if he died.
Then one night while he was sleeping he heard a noise.
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He opened his eyes to see to huge clawed hands over him. He opened his mouth to scream and everything went black.