The Monster Beneath the Sheets

(Content Warning: Violence, Gore.)

In the still of the night on All Hallows Eve, an eerie wind blew through the little suburban town of Elmhurst and rocked the empty oak trees. Tiny limbs rattled many windows like lost banshees begging for a warm embrace. A piercing howl reminded every creature, dead and alive, that the season of evil was in full swing.

Bobby’s eyes snapped open like a rolling blind, and saw a wicked branch waving hello. As he took a deep breath to steady his booming heart, he noticed his closet door cracked open. The tunnel of darkness was deep, and although his parents always made sure that the door was closed every night, it was ajar somehow.

He thought about calling out to his parents for help, but the last time that happened, the only thing he got was a lecture about how monsters were not real. This was a problem Bobby had to deal with on his own.

The plush carpet beneath Bobby’s feet masked his silent approach towards the closet door. Seeing the light switch from afar made him second-guess his line of thinking. Perhaps he should have flicked the switch first. Too late for that now. You can’t turn away from a journey without reaching a conclusion first. What kind of hero does that? It takes courage to face the unknown and Bobby wanted to prove that he was no coward.

If he could reach into the darkness and pull the beaded string, the illumination would show his clothes hanging neatly on the rod and his toys carefully placed in his chest. There would be no monsters hiding in there waiting to feast on his tasty flesh.

After another deep breath, Bobby ran his left hand across his forehead and wiped the sweat beads on his Batman pajamas. He narrowed his eyes and extended his right hand to the brass doorknob. Before his clammy palm could reach its destination, a horrifying yelp screeched from within. It sounded like a hoard of rancid crows squawking at a decrepit scarecrow hanging in a lonely cornfield.

As the closet door popped open, Bobby ran to his bed and buried himself in his Justice League covers. The peach fuzz on the back of his neck screamed for Heaven to save him, and goosebumps ran the length of his arms. His lungs were heavy, and his breathing was labored. He couldn’t scream for help because his vocal cords were paralyzed with fear. If his heart was a car battery, it would have jumped a hundred dead cars.

In the safety of his warm bed, Bobby closed his eyelids as the screeching squawks came closer. A slight ripping of the fitted bed sheet just below Bobby’s feet made his eyes pop open. There, buried beneath his heroic comforter, was a slender figure wearing a white, baggy robe with long green limbs for arms and a huge bulbous pumpkin head with fiery eyes.

The monster slithered toward Bobby like a venomous python and bit his toes off. Before a rumbling roar filled the room, the pumpkin creature sucked out Bobby’s soul through his squirting feet and disappeared in the darkness from which it came….

The following day, Bobby’s death made headlines and rocked the community. He was the latest victim in a long line of tragic deaths. His empty desk at Elmhurst Elementary School was a solemn reminder of that cold, hard fact. Community leaders and local politicians considered locking everything down, but because it was an election year, they didn’t want the bad press. Shutting anything down would hurt the economy.

Luckily enough, it was a half day at school. With Halloween coming at the turn of the page, all the kids were excited to go Trick ‘R Treating. Conversations about sweet treats and costumes filled every classroom except for Miss Bolton’s. She ran a tight ship and getting assigned her class was every student’s nightmare.

Her classroom was neat and organized right down to the length of chalk near the polished blackboard. The erasers were freshly padded out, and the windows lacked any decorations. They were a distraction as far as Miss Bolton was concerned. 

“Okay, class. It’s time to turn in your math homework.”

Miss Bolton peered over her thick-rimmed glasses and parted her white shoulder-length hair behind her tiny ears. She curled her lips downward as the students passed their papers forward, desk by desk, until they reached the front.

She flipped through them one by one and narrowed her steadfast eyes. “It seems we are missing one. Who failed to do the assignment?”

As Miss Bolton’s elongated neck zeroed in on her thirteen students, no one said a word.

“Hmm…” she huffed. “As I expected. I could go through these papers and expose the culprit, but that would be a waste of my time.” She placed the assignments on her desk, grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote DETENTION on the blackboard. “You all have detention after school!”

“Oh, but Miss Bolton…tomorrow is Halloween!” Lizzie Martin protested. She chomped her chewing gum and slammed her wooden pencil on her desk.

Her fellow classmates agreed with their huffs and puffs.

Miss Bolton took her glasses off and placed them on her desk. She ran her cold, dark eyes over Lizzie for what seemed like an eternity. You could cut the awkward tension with a dull butterknife.

“So it is,” Miss Bolton finally said. “I don’t care what day it is…and is that bubble gum I see in your mouth?”

After a hard swallow, Lizzie replied, “No…”

The other students watched without uttering a single word. Not even a whimper escaped their lips as Miss Bolton marched toward Lizzie, grabbed her pencil, and snapped it like a twig.

“It was you, wasn’t it, Lizzie?” she demanded.

“Um…” Lizzie fumbled for the right words, but her clumsy delivery cost her the game.

“Yes…” Miss Bolton said with a torqued grin. “I thought so. Well… I will just have to give you a zero. Unless, of course, you can conjure up your assignment in the next five seconds.”

Lizzie lowered her eyes and shook her head. There was no way she could do that. Perhaps if she told the truth….

“I’m sorry, Miss Bolton,” Lizzie mumbled. “I honestly forgot about my homework because my mom took the day off to help me with my Halloween costume.”

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Miss Bolton snapped. “I want to see results. I’m in a generous mood today, so I tell you what—I’ll give you all a special treat just in time for Halloween. During detention, you will write a three-hundred-word paper about how important math is and how it relates to your life.”

Lizzie knew there was no use arguing. She nodded and hung her head low, and so did everyone else.

During detention, the sound of scribbling pencils and rubbing erasers filled the classroom. Lizzie couldn’t believe how horrible Miss Bolton was. Forgetting to do a homework assignment was bad, yes, but this punishment was too harsh. When Lizzie finished her paper, she looked at Miss Bolton and saw her frozen eyes locked on her. A cold snap raced through her spine, and she wanted to run away. She grabbed the edges of her desk to steel her nerves.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of detention, Miss Bolton stood and said, “I want all papers stacked neatly on my desk before you leave.”

As Lizzie placed her report on Miss Bolton’s desk, a looming veil consumed her thoughts. She looked at her scornful teacher and saw her eyes turn black as night.

“I’ll see you later…Lizzie,” Miss Bolton said. Her tone was direct and meaningful.

Lizzie wasted little time and ran out of the classroom. The safety of home would soon follow. 

Later that evening, Lizzie sat at the kitchen table with her parents, Sue and Tom. She was free from the day’s events, but the darkness was still with her.

“Are you alright?”

“…I’m okay, mom…” Lizzie answered, flicking her meatloaf.

“You seem off today,” Tom said. “Is everything okay at school?”

“Yeah…”

Her mom took a bite of mashed potatoes and smiled. “Are you excited for Halloween tomorrow? I bet your princess costume will look amazing! Just think of all the wonderful treats you will get.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see how much candy I will get—”

Lizzie’s words were slashed off when she glanced out the kitchen window and saw Miss Bolton staring at her from behind the big oak tree in their front yard. With a wicked grin and a flash of lightning, Miss Bolton transformed into her true form. Her white robes rippled in the night breeze as her long, twisted limbs hugged the tree. A roaring fire erupted from her eye sockets, and her jack-o-lantern skull was complete. Lizzie dropped her fork and jerked back in her chair.

“What’s wrong, Lizzie?” Tom demanded.

Lizzie looked at her dad and then back out the window. Miss Bolton was gone. “Um…” she hummed, “Nothing is wrong.” She looked at her mom and asked, “May I be excused? I think I will go to bed early tonight. I’m just tired from school.” 

“Yes, dear,” Sue replied. “Get your rest for tomorrow. It’s a big day!”

As time ticked by, Lizzie fell asleep with Miss Bolton’s fiery eyes upon her. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind. A knocking at her bedroom window rattled Lizzie’s unnerved soul, and she opened her eyes with a quick snap. She looked around her room and noticed her closet door cracked open like a seething poison waiting to pour its venomous seed down her throat.

Like a giant tarantula crawling out from the depths of Hell, Miss Bolton’s lanky fingers crept to the edge of the closet door and pushed it open. When Lizzie saw her burning eyes illuminating her pumpkin skull, she buried herself deeper into her covers. Perhaps the safety of her warm cocoon would save her from the fright, and Miss Bolton would disappear like she did before.

Luck, however, was not on Lizzie’s side.

Before Lizzie could think about calling out to her parents for help, her voice was locked behind a wall of terror, which was taken to a whole new level when the bedsheet began to rip. Miss Bolton was on a rampaging assault and couldn’t wait to taste her troubled student.

When Miss Bolton slithered to Lizzie’s toes for a quick lick, she drew back like a cornered snake when she saw something wicked. Lizzie’s toenails transformed into sharp claws, and her feet doubled in size. Her torso ballooned into a hairy husk, and a foul odor engulfed the covers. After several grunts, Lizzie’s jawbone extended into a long snout, and her teeth became daggers. Thick fur exploded throughout Lizzie’s skin, and within seconds, her transmutation was complete. Miss Bolton was in bed with a baby Lycan.

Miss Bolton ruffled her pumpkin jaws and lunged forward. Her attack had to be quick if she wanted the killing blow. Baby Lycans are faster than the evil cheetahs roaming the dark lands. Lizzie grabbed Miss Bolton’s thin limps with her hairy palms and bit them off. Thick green liquid soaked the mattress, and a roaring scream filled the house.

As Lizzie chomped into Miss Bolton’s pumpkin skull, her parents stormed into the room and flicked the light on. They saw the baby Lycan munching away at orange bits and yelled, “Lizzie! What are you doing?”

Lizzie looked at her parents, who were in their full Lycan forms and said, “I’m just eating some pumpkin pie.”

“That demon got what she deserved as far as I’m concerned,” Tom said.

“Yes,” Sue uttered. “We know that facing your first demon is a scary thing, but all younglings need to face that fear on their own. It makes you stronger. We knew you were deathly afraid of something, but we couldn’t intervene.”

“It’s a rite of passage, so to speak,” Tom said.

Sue nodded and finished, “Tomorrow will be a glorious day now that you’ve had your first kill. We are so proud of you for conquering your fears. Those humans and other demons will never see us coming!”

“I can’t wait to sink my teeth into all those wonderful treats,” Lizzie growled. “Trick ‘R Treat… Here we come!!”