The Morning

I pulled the covers up to my chin, as I had done as a child. I’ll tell you the truth: I was scared. I was as scared as it is possible to be.

Slowly, the door began to creak open. I stared at the black entrance to the hallway. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything, but I knew something had come into the room. The light was off, and my eyes didn’t want to adjust. As much as I hated it, my eyes started to make sense of things.

There was… a thing. It was just at the foot of my bed. It was almost completely black, with traces of grey here and there. It was vaguely humanoid—tall and husky. It was partially bent over… a large lump rested on what would be considered its back.

Its hands, on the end of long tentacles, rose above its head; three claws on each hand. The hands came down, and grabbed the footrest at the bottom of my bed. Slowly, its fingers began to move.

CLICK click click. CLICK click click.

Three clicks came from each hand, with each claw clicking once.. Then the thing turned and left the room, closing the door behind it. It had long ribbons of “flesh” hanging from its limbs.

It didn’t hurt me physically. Only psychologically. It was only making me aware of its presence.

Now I was aware. And now I was scared. I glanced at the clock. Four o’ clock in the morning. How did time pass so quickly?

I pushed the issue from my mind and fell to sleep. My dreams were troubled with images of faceless things and reaching claws.


I woke up, gasping and sweaty. Catching a glimpse of the alarm clock, I saw it was eleven A.M. I had slept through my alarm.

I got out of bed and went downstairs. My wife had her head on the table, and her arms were on the table as well, forming a wall around her head. I sat next to her, and noticed a note on the table with her. I picked it up.

The End

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