Bogeyman

I was born from the human child’s first nightmare, brought on by a cavalcade of hammering thunder and violent rain. She was terrified, and screamed and screamed from her bed, the tears soaking her pillow. I immediately fled into the safety of the shadows under the bed, weak and vulnerable. The hunger for the child was fierce, but I was weak and she would need time to ripen.

There were two doors in the room. One was showing a crack of light under it, and a shudder ran through the shadow that was my present form. If that door opened enough to let the light hit me, I would be doomed. The other door was open a crack, and it was dark behind that one. I passed through the crack and into the closet, and in the darkest corner, I started to build the nest that would keep me safe until the girl was ready.

For weeks I fueled the nightmares of the child, scurrying silently through the shadows as she slept. Every night I fed her fears, stoking the nightmares into sheets of white-hot dread. When she cried, I licked the tears from her sleeping face. They were salty and tasted of the exquisite fear that only the truly innocent can summon. The tears would sustain me until the girl was ready for the Reap.

Sometimes her cries would bring the Others and the damning light. My only recourse in those times was to flee under the bed or into the closet, cowering. Over time, the Others began to ignore the nightly cries and I was able to increase the tempo of my efforts. Night after night, fear after fear, tear after tear, I would torment the child, strengthening myself and fertilizing her fear.

Tonight, I thought. Tonight, I would Reap. I looked through the crack in the closet door. The room was dark, the only sound in the room was the breathing of the sleeping child on the bed. The faint sounds of a television could be heard from somewhere else in the house.

My dark form blended with the shadows as I crept to the bed. What a sweet, sweet, child. I brushed her hair and watched the dreams darken and swirl from my light touch. The girl whimpered and rolled on her side. The longing to taste the dreams was maddening, their smell permeated the room like baskets of ripe, fresh fruit ready to be plucked. I hungered in anticipation, my need nearly overwhelming me.

I was ready, but there was still a bar of light coming under the bedroom door. I would be vulnerable during the Reap and could not risk the Others bringing light with them. I settled back in the closet and. After some time, the television noise stopped, and the crack under the bedroom door suddenly went from a cheery yellow to pitch black. I know better than to move yet; the Others could check on the child before they retired to bed. I waited until the house was completely silent, then waited longer to be sure of no interference. Still, there were precautions to be taken.

If I had been born with a heart, I suppose it would be racing in anticipation. I went to the door, found the knob, and sent tendrils of darkness into the locking mechanism, freezing it shut. I let the tendrils grow until the entire door and frame were engulfed in darkness, sealing it. My most potent enemy was light, so I next went to the lamp and followed the cord down to the electrical outlet.

Again, the tendrils reached out, this time flowing into the outlet. Seeking, slinking, they went, down the wires and into every room, exploring every one until it ended at a socket or continued towards the power source. Down the maze of wires I went, until my search was rewarded when I found the power panel in the basement.

Slowing now, I sorted through the breakers until I found the master. Tendrils wrapped around it like writhing snakes and tugged. It did not move. I pulled harder, but there was no effect. More and more of myself I poured through the wiring until there was barely a shade of myself left in the girl’s room. Straining, pulling, a fear began to build in me. If I could not put out the lights, I would surely be caught when the Reap began. I doubled my efforts and was finally rewarded with a snap when the breaker opened. The already quiet house became completely silent as the air conditioner, refrigerator, and other electrical appliances powered off.

I could barely contain my hunger as I pulled myself back into the room. I flew to the bed, and saw that the child was sleeping deeply, unaware of my presence. I leaned in closer to her face and sampled her breath. Ripe, it said. I didn’t hesitate, and immediately sent the darkness down her throat and began the Reap.

The child reacted instantly, as I had known that she would. Her eyes snapped open, and she saw me for the first time. She tried to scream but could only make a groan that increased in volume as her fear grew. Her eyes were so wide that they seemed to be all white, and I could tell from the sharp tang of urine that she had wet the bed. Her hands reached for me, but in this form, I am as smoke to her, and they passed right through me with no effect.

 I reached down, down, into the girl until I reached her core. Everything that she ever was, and ever would be, was here. The core shone with the bright ruby light of the child’s potential and her innocence. It was clean, pure, sweet, and ripe. I began to feed. I fed on her hopes, her dreams, her innocence. It was delicious, and I was ravenous. The glow dimmed noticeably with each delicate morsel that I consumed.

Her struggles intensified, and she began to buck and convulse on the bed in an effort to dislodge me. The bed rocked and her legs kicked out at the wall and footboard in her struggles. There was a snap as something broke, and the mattress fell through the frame and hit the floor with a thud.

Now was the time that I hoped my safety precautions had been adequate. Her fight had attracted the Others, and they began banging on the bedroom door and rattling the knob in panic, shouting to each other, and to the girl. Their fear fueled that of the child’s, and the taste became even sweeter, her struggles more intense. A dim light on the other side of the door indicated that someone was using a light source to examine the door. I had not anticipated another source of light so quickly after the power had been put out, and fear swept through me.

There was a sudden explosion of wood as the door was kicked in by one of the Others. They rushed across the room to the bed, the light lancing through the darkness. The glow from the phone went around the room, under the bed, and even into the closet as the Others searched the room, but they found no reason for the girl’s distress. As soon as the light had hit her, the child had calmed and began to rub her eyes, crying.

The mother lifted the girl from the bed and held her close for a moment, then wiped her tears and examined her face. Her alarm lessened as she saw that her little girl was unharmed.

“Honey, are you okay?”, she asked and gave the girl a big hug.

“Mommy, I had a bad dream”, I said, in my little girl voice, and hugged her back. Her tears smelled of fear, and I had to resist tasting them.