Chapter One: Naughty Boy

Dundee, Michigan

Mitch Halloway sat calmly at the table dressed in his Sunday best, watching his wife pace the kitchen. The woman who was a good fifteen years his junior, looked dazzling in her little black cocktail dress despite the anger that she radiated. "I'm just going to call Shelly." She said, glancing at the clock on the microwave, "If we hurry, we may still make the play."

"How is he going to learn if you bale him out again?"

"He's doing this on purpose. If we stay home, then he's successfully ruined our evening and that's exactly what he wants. Either way, he wins."

The irate woman plopped down at the table and rubbed her throbbing temples. "I just don't know what to do with him anymore."

Mitch quietly stood and placed his hands firmly on the back of his wife's neck. She released a soft moan as he rubbed away the gathering tension. His hands stilled on her shoulders and he brought his lips to her soft skin. "Karen honey, we don't have to leave the house to have a wonderful anniversary."

Mrs. Halloway's eyes sparkled as her husband's hands found their way around her waist. "Jeremy's in bed already. There's champagne in the fridge. One quick phone call and we could have some excellent take out to go with it. You're the only thing I wanted to do tonight anyway."

"Mitchell!" Karen laughed as she playfully swatted her husband.

Their eyes locked and their lips met in a passionate kiss, which they held until the cause of their stress burst through the back door. Brent was disgusted at the sight of his mother kissing that man and slammed the door shut behind him in protest. Mrs. Halloway rose to her feet stepping between her son and the stairs to his bedroom, with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Where in God's name have you been? You were supposed to be home over two hours ago."

Brent's eyes barely made their way to his mother's before he rolled them. "I was out."

"You promised you would watch your brother and now your father and I have missed our dinner reservations."

"He's not my father."

"Well I'm your mother and since you don't seem to respect my time, I'm not going to respect yours. You're grounded for a month."

Brent scoffed at the reproach. "You can't ground me. I'm going to do whatever I want anyway."

His attitude made his mother's blood curdle in her veins and she slapped him sharply across his left cheek. The boy was truly startled by his mother's actions and found himself without a sarcastic comeback. Mrs. Halloway fought back her tears of frustration and lowered her voice. "Your father and I are going out and we'll be back late. Your brother's in his room, make sure he gets to sleep at a decent hour."

Brent watched his mother put on her jacket. "He's not my father!" he yelled once more after the door was shut.

Brent released a sigh of anger as he watched the car back out of the driveway. He activated the security system and grabbed a soda before heading up to his room. Once upstairs, he heard talking coming from his little brother's room. He peered through the crack and shook his head when he saw his little brother talking to the corner. He kicked the door open all the way with a loud thump that startled the smaller child. "Talking to your imaginary friend again?"

"Boogey's not imaginary."

"So he has a name now? It's a pretty lame one."

"Shelly likes it."

"No she doesn't, its dumb. She just said that because she feels sorry for you because you're so stupid."

"She did not. She wouldn't lie to me. She's nice."

"She's a bitch. Hot, but a bitch."

"I'm telling mom on you."

"Go ahead. She's not gonna believe a kid who named his imaginary friend Boogey."

"I call him Boogey because he lives in the closet just like the boogeyman."

"Is he scaaaarrryyy like the boogeyman?" Brent said, pushing his face close to his younger brother's. "Does he rip little kids apart and eat them like the Boogeyman?"

"Stop it Brent! You're scaring me and Boogey doesn't like it when you're mean."

"Whatever freak." Brent laughed. "Mom's gone so I'm in charge and I say you have to go to bed now and stop talking to nobody."

Brent flipped off the light in Jeremy's room and laughed when he became upset. "Wait Brent, you forgot the night light!"

"Don't be such a wuss."

Jeremy climbed into his bed and heard Brent lock his door. "What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

"Hold it." Brent called through the door.

Moments later Jeremy heard the door to Brent's room slam shut and the low hum of rock music seeped through the wall that the two bedrooms shared. He looked around the dark room and pulled his covers over his head when the closet door creaked open. "I don't want to play tonight Boogey." He cried.

Jeremy heard a familiar laugh, but tonight the voice had a sadistic quality to it that sent chills up his spine. "Please go away. My brother scared me and he wouldn't turn the light so I can't play with you tonight."

Jeremy came out from under the covers and looked over at a tiny pair of glowing yellow eyes peering from inside the dark closet, and he pulled the covers back over his head. His breathing increased and panic took over when he heard a faint evil voice begin to whisper just on the other side of the covers.

"Baby, baby, naught baby,
Hush! You squalling thing, I say;
Peace this instant! Peace! Or maybe
Boogey will pass this way."

Tears streamed from the frightened child's eyes as he lie paralyzed beneath his sheets. He moved not a muscle and made not a sound until he heard his closet door creep shut. He closed his eyes as tight as he could, but he couldn't shut out the voice that haunted him. "Baby, baby, naught baby, Hush! You squalling thing, I say; Peace this instant! Peace! Or maybe Boogey will pass this way."

Jeremy listened to the silence for a moment then instinctively continued the nursery rhyme.

"Baby, baby, if he hears you
As he gallops past the house,
Limb from limb at once he'll tear you
Just as pussy tears a mouse…"

As he whispered the morbid tale he heard the sound of his brother's tortured screams ring through the wall. He listed to the cries unable to move or call out for help. The terror in his naughty brother's voice crept into his soul and rendered him helpless. Fear became the only thing he could see or feel, while the screams, along with the evil cackling of a twisted monster danced around vividly in his brain.

All at once the screams stopped and total silence took over with the slamming of a door. The cries were scary, but the silence was worse, much worse. The traumatized child lie in his bed, shaking violently in a puddle of his own urine and began subconsciously repeating the last verse of the rhyme.

"And he'll beat you, beat you, beat you,
And he'll beat you all to pap:
And he'll eat you, eat you, eat you,
Gobble you, gobble you, snap! snap! snap!"

A/N The nursery rhyme isn't mine. I found it on line here…