The Monster
In the spirit of Halloween, I wanted to post a scary story that has some bases in real life. Enjoy and I hope you get a nice thrill.
Crash!
Henry was in his kitchen looking when something fragile hit the ground and broke into pieces. He was at the counter pouring himself a bowl of cereal and he could see a red liquid beginning to spread on the floor. The red spot getting closer to him before the room went dark.
Henry didn’t think, he only felt fear. As the red spot grew he had only a few moments to react. So, he did the only sensible thing a nine-year-old can do when overcome with fear - run.
Henry knew he had to get away from where the glass had broken and he had to do it fast.
Henry bolted from the kitchen, bumping into a chair behind him. It toppled over, but he didn’t bother to pick it up. If he wasted anytime in his escape, it would catch him.
His bare feet crossed the floor, turning from cold tile to carpet. The sudden change in texture gave him a shock, but it signaled to him he was getting closer to the stairs. His haven was close. Behind him though, he felt it looking at him. He didn’t need to turn back to know that it was now on the hunt for him. As he reached the stairs, a bellowing scream resonated throughout the house and it made Henry’s stomach churn. He gripped the handrail and for some reason he waited at the bottom. Henry was looking up the stairs but broke his gaze and looked to the kitchen.
“Please,” barely louder than a breath. “No!” It, the monster was walking towards him. No, stalking towards him.
Henry! Don’t stand there, move before it catches you! A voice said.
The monster began to pick up its pace.
RUN HENRY! RUN FOR YOU LIFE!
He tore his eyes away from the beast and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. He could hear it behind him stomping towards the stairwell. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
“Please don’t let it catch me!” Henry thought to himself as he kept his eyes on the stairwell that seemed to stretch on forever.
He was almost at the top but despite having a head start the monster was already halfway up the stairs. For every step he could make, it could leap three with no effort. He could feel the warmth of its breath on the back of his neck.
Don’t stop! A voice encouraged. Keep running!
The top of the never-ending staircase was within in his sight. Some relief came into him allowing his body to relax ever so slightly. Henry’s foot hit the edge of one of the steps to the top. He fell to his right, grabbing on one of the steps before his head could hit it or against the wall.
His hope drained from him as he could feel something graze his leg.
Don’t. Look. Back. Keep. Running.
The voice said firmly.
DON’T LOOK BACK.
Forgetting the wise advice from his head he turned to see that it had caught up to him. Reaching out, with a claw and nails that were chipped and red, slowly closing its grasp on its legs. He yanked his leg back, the nails grazing his bare skin that his shorts didn’t cover. Stumbling to the top he darted like an animal on all fours. After finally making it, Henry ran down the hallway straight to his room.
He had practiced this situation in his head a hundred times before. Henry knew what to do next.
He shut the door and locked it. Next, he moved his heavy toy chest in front of the entrance. Then he propped his coat hanger against the door knob for extra support. His final touch was to move the heaviest chair in his room on top of the toy chest for more weight.
Once that was all done he stepped back to check his work. But a loud boom behind the door made him jump back before he could asses his blockade any further. He had to choose to hide somewhere incase his barricade didn’t hold. He saw his closet and he wanted to go in there, to lock another door and hopefully keep himself safe. Then he remembered there was nothing to hide behind if it managed to get past the door. The bangs and growls from the other side were getting louder, giving the appearance that the door and his things might give. Henry dove under his bed where a stockpile of clothes, and his favorite blanket, lay waiting for him. The blanket, a gift from his sister, was a bright green and had blue spots. Seeing it again after so long made him feel safe, so he wrapped himself in its fuzzy warmth. Though it offered protection he wanted to blend into his surroundings. Wiggling out a free hand he scooped clothes on top of him.
The banging was relentless at the door as Henry kept shoveling clothes.
Bang!
“Please don’t let it hurt me."
Bang!
"Please don’t let it find me.”
Bang!
“I promise. I’ll be good.”
Tears were flowing from Henry’s face.
“Please. Oh God, please help me!”
The banging stopped, and Henry stopped shoveling. The lock on the door was making a reigned tumbling sound. He hurried to shove his arm back into his blanket.
With the little crack the door allowed, items started moving. The toy chest slid back against the wall, the propped-up coat hanger fell uselessly to the floor, and the heaviest chair was pushed behind the door, clattering as it hit the wall. The monster walked in slowly, strutting, taking in its surroundings. It was familiar with the lay out and walked around the room one time, leaving red imprints on Henry’s carpeted floor.
Finally, it stopped, and Henry peeked from his little cocoon of clothes and blanket. He could see its feet from where he was laying, the soles showing the light discoloration of where it must have stepped into the red liquid.
Stopping in the center of the room it started to search for him. Henry had grown accustomed to having little in his room, leaving his walls empty so his posters and pictures wouldn’t fall constantly. He only ever kept one picture visible and that was the one he had next to his bed on a little nightstand. It was a wooden frame painted blue with a picture of his family; his Dad and Mom in the middle. His mom behind him and his Father behind his sister.
The monster’s heels were facing towards Henry as the front of it was focused on his closet door. It calmly walked towards the door and slowly turned the handle. When it heard click of latch separating the calmness of the creature disappeared. It flung the door open and dove into the closet, ripping out clothes with hangers in them, shoes, socks, and his backpack. It was screaming and wailing out of control.
Henry could see them falling like hail and thudding on the ground. When his backpack hit the floor, he winced in fear and covered his head in the blanket. No longer wanting to see anymore of the carnage coming from his closet.
Covered in a world of green and blue he could only hear what was going on around him. The rampage seemed to last for hours and then suddenly stopped. He could hear heavy panting and steps coming out from his closet followed by a loud slam of the door. Then he could hear the steps vanish and felt the weight of his bed above him start to change. The monster was climbing onto his bed and he could hear the squeaking of the spring supporting it as it got closer to where he lay under.
He felt the fabric of the bed push down lightly over his head and he nearly screamed. But before he could he covered his mouth and bit his tongue as hard as he could. The weight stayed on his head for a few moments, barley grazing his head, and then suddenly relieved itself. He could hear steps again, first loud and getting softer, as if they were going away. Henry was relieved and was waiting for the door to open and shut, finally ending his nightmare.
But the sound never came.
He wanted to look past his green and blue vail, but he knew he shouldn’t. It was the only thing protecting him after his piles of clothes. He had to stay hidden.
Don’t look.
He told himself, but the noises seemed to stop.
DON’T LOOK.
It was quite for a moment. Nothing seemed to be moving.
DO NOT LOOK!
Telling himself one last time before caving into his curiosity. He lowered his blanket and peeked through his clothes.
He had made a mistake.
In front him lying on its stomach was the monster staring back at him, eyes black as a charcoal. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. Its arm had reached out grabbing his face and its palm covering his mouth.
Squeezing his head, the rugged and jagged nails of its claw dug into him and started to drag him out. His neck felt like it was going to snap but it just wouldn’t, not willing to give the sweet escape of death. But he did something that was out of his character, he fought back.
Swinging as hard as he could, with blanket in hand, at the claw on his face. It had gotten him out from underneath his bed and was dragging him on the floor. The carpet burning his back through his shirt. It let got of him and pounced on top of him, screaming as it landed it face in front of his and spit flying over his face.
Try as he might and flail his arms in protest to protect himself the monster easily evaded his efforts. With all hist might he was able to wiggle through the monsters’ secure position and got one leg free. With that, he put all his energy, all his fight, and kicked it straight in the chest.
The monster was holding onto his arm and as it was sent flying it left four deep cuts. Henry repositioned himself to be by his bed as the monster hit his closet door. A thunk was heard when it made contact with the door.
It wasn’t dazed for more than a second and was rubbing behind its head where the door knob must have hit her. The monster grew angry but regained a calm composure. Henry stared it down, feeling the dots of blood coming down his arm. It hurt, and tears started to well in his eyes, but though his sight grew blurry he didn’t break eye-contact with its deep black eyes.
It smiled with all white teeth and Henry knew what that meant. He was covering his arm where the blood started to pool but took his hand off, wiping his face from the tears. He stood up straight and looked at his monster, “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Full of fear his voice was cracking but that is all he could say before a sudden weight was put into his gut.
He fell to the ground and stared to the ceiling. Then a black silhouette crawled on top of him and her black eyes were starring back at him. He didn’t scream, he didn’t even bother to try. Roaring into his face, saliva flying everywhere, he faced his doom.
A flurry of pain started to take over his body. Its claws tearing at his chest, arms, and face, causing red marks to form. Claws turning into fists pummeling his face and chest, almost rhythmically.
Each blow hurt but was drowned out by the blinding pain of the next. Henry lay submissively, crying, tears flying in any direction his face turned from the impacts. Snot and blood ran down his nose, which only seemed to make the creature delight more in his torture.
Henrys eyes were starting to get heavy, his sight getting blurry. Then he could feel the barrage of hits beginning to slow. Each strike came with a grunt from the monster, every motion starting to wear it out. A final blow came from overhead, intertwining its fingers together and slamming down its fists into the center of Henry’s chest, the tender space between his ribs. It knocked the air out of his lungs, causing his tiredness to disappear. His head sprung from the ground and his eyes looked blankly to the ceiling. Suddenly falling back, he moved no longer and no longer wanted to move.
She rose from Henry’s motionless body, taking mucous-thick breaths. Gazing at the window where light seemed to be creeping back into his room. Henry, before slipping into a deep sleep, could hear it murmuring something, “……. that’s what you get.” She spat these last words out, “YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Followed by a quick, powerful, and violent kick to his side.
“Henry,” she said in a kind voice, “if you tell mom, or dad, about this I’ll kill you.” Taking a pause and delighting in the word kill. Despite his pain and his attention fading, he nodded to indicate he understood.
Henry’s sister, Naomi, sighed with satisfaction and walked out of the room. Closing the door, she said, “When you’re done faking make sure you clean the broken glass and juice you broke downstairs.”
The door clicked behind her and he allowed himself to fall apart. He cried as softly as he could, gasping for air in between his bursts. He held himself and curled into a ball, rubbing his arms for warmth. He started to whisper underneath his breath, “you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” He continued to say that calming down his heart and his fits, wiping away his tears as he kept repeating, “You’re okay. You’re okay.” Wrapping himself in the blanket Naomi gave him and fading into sleep.
Epilogue Henry wakes up after an hour of sleeping. Getting up from the floor he could feel the pain from the kick and his body was sore from Naomi’s beating. As he began to get up, he had to muster through the pain that was covering his body. When he could finally stand, and stand firmly on his two feet, he walked to his mirror.
This isn’t the first time a beating like this has happened and he knows this won’t be the last. Henry has gotten used to it and to make life easier on his mother, his father, his sister, and himself he had certain tricks to hide the pain, the marks, and bruises. But before he could do that he had to go into his checklist and take count off all the damages he has taken.
Starting from the top down he took careful note of everything he saw. Messy hair can be explained away for sleeping and napping. Red and puffy eyes can fade without any help, but ice will be applied around the area to ease any pain and swelling. Red marks on left cheek, forearm, chest, and right leg; make-up will need to be applied to hide any extreme marks that can’t be explained away. This time crawling underneath the bed and getting laundry out caused the cuts on the arms. Everyone believes a child is reckless, so this works perfectly.
Next, a light pat down of his body and slight motions to make sure everything was working properly. Arms, neck, shoulders, legs, and feet were all fine by his standards. His midsection; his chest and left side to be precise, were painful and Henry lifted his shirt to analyze the damages. In the center of his chest his skin showed a minor discoloration. Explanation ran into a doorknob, solution found. His side though would be more of an issue.
His left side was starting to turn purple and the slightest touch made Henry wince in pain. This was going to be a problem for Henry. The bruise was growing, and the pain was more than he was used to handling. As he went through his head for solutions he found himself stuck. Make-up can cover it but doesn’t stop the pain. Pain relivers might not work and would cause suspicion if I started taking them without being sick or if they start going faster than expected.
The only solution he came up with was hiding the pain for now and possibly finding a bully to blame for it later this week. He wouldn’t allow Naomi to get caught for what she did. Henry, despite everything he went through, goes through, he still loves his sister. He wouldn’t get her in trouble and he would do his best to be a good little brother. He picked up his blanket folding it with such care and love and placed it on his bed on top of his pillow. After placing it down he picked up the photo of his family, placing his hand gently on it and putting back on his nightstand by his bed. He did his routine of hiding his bruises and marks, using make-up to hide what wouldn’t heel fast enough, and put on a long-sleeved shirt that was too big for him and sweatpants that would sag past his feet. He looked at the mirror one more time and did a final check. Acceptable.
He walked to his door putting his Star Wars chair back in the corner and placing his coat rack back standing up right. When his cleaning was done he made his way back to his doo and opened it, every step feeling the pain on his left side. He had to ignore it though, he had a mess to clean. Henry had to be a good little brother, he had to be a good little boy.
I hope you enjoyed the tale and let me know what you liked and didn't like. More stories to come soon.