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It is following me again. It seems to be lurking around every corner these days, behind every door. It is difficult for me to get a good look at it, as it is always at the edge of my vision and never directly in my line of sight. But when I turn my head to look at it closely, it always seems to vanish like a wisp of smoke. It is aware of me; I am sure of that. It regards me with its bright, sharp eyes. I loathe the monster, but I also fear it deeply.
As I lie here on the floor, the soft bristles of carpet grazing my skin as I wait for sleep to claim me, I know that all that separates us is a thin wooden door. I keep expecting it to fling the door open, but it never does. I can hear its soft breathing, the occasional moan at a nightmare. What type of awful nightmares the monster has I can only guess. In the end, my fear turns to insomnia and I stare blankly at the wood grain. I have not slept for days now.
No matter how I try to avoid the monster, it always seems to be there. I leave the house and walk down the street, and I am sure that I can catch glimpses of it in the crowd. Watching me. I study the spidery cracks in the sidewalk, pretending that I don’t notice. I suppress a shiver that I know is not brought about by the autumn wind.
I have begun to fear for my life now. I hear sheets rustling and the sound of muffled footfalls. The monster stands just outside the door, making garbled noises like a lunatic. The noises terrify me, though I try not to listen. Even when the beast shuffles away from the door, I am haunted through the night.
I open the door, slowly and quietly. The monster lays motionless, wrapped in silk sheets like a beastly cocoon. I tiptoe to the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me. I see myself in the mirror. Did the door open, just a crack? No, my sleep deprived mind is playing tricks on me. I grip the valve, turn it, and cool water gushes from the faucet. I take some of it in my hands and splash it on my face, feeling the cool soak into my fur. And then I spot a movement in the mirror, and I whirl around…and find myself staring into the face of the monster. It regards me for a moment as I stand petrified, unsure what to do. It starts to make those strange, garbled noises again. It is speaking to me, I suddenly realize, but I do not know what to say back.
I see it clearly for the first time. Its skin is horrible, all raw and pink, just like the rest of its kind. I cannot tell if it is male or female, but it appears to be young. But how can it see me when others cannot? I am sure that it wants to kill me. I close my eyes, waiting for a fatal blow to come down on me…but nothing happens. I slowly open one eye, then another. It has turned its back on me, starting to walk back out of the room.
I see that this is my only chance. I must destroy it before it changes its mind. I pounce on the creature, slamming it into the ground. It lets out a muffled little cry, but I squeeze my hands around its neck until, until…it becomes very limp and still. Now that I stare at it, lying still on the ground, it does not seem so terrifying. In fact, I am almost sorry that I have killed it. But I feel a great burden lift from my shoulders. Never again will it hide at the edges of my vision, watching me as it has done before. I am finally free.
I feel that this place is no longer safe for me. They are investigating the death of the small human now, and I must flee. But everything will be alright. There are other places to go, other closets for me to hide in. Still, I am afraid that there are others who will be able to see me. Maybe someday, I will finally be safe from those monsters called humans
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Title:
A Bump in the Night
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Artist:
MoonPanda2
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Description:
What happens when roles are reversed? To a monster, is a human the most frightening thing it can imagine? I hope this story will make you think twice...
Please comment! Constructive criticism is appreciated.
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Date:
03/21/2010
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Tags:
bump
night
monster
horror
scary
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