First Meeting

A pounding against the walls of your bedroom. Shaking the space around you with a bestial roar. The heavy drums of thunder are coupled with the soggy dripping of rain, the Summer night wringing itself dry.

The downpour quickens its pace, the droplets all too eager to splash against your window pane. You cried out in fear when a flash of electric blue illuminates the room too brief for an instant; and a heavy roll of wind against the sky pounds on the panels of the roof.

You lay transfixed in your bed. Wrapped up in your warmly comforting blankets; knowing that you are protected in this sheltered warmth from the wrathful storm thunderous storm bellowing as another flash of light illuminates the room.

The shadows dance for a moment across the ceiling that you stare at, locked in some mystic waltz; and you bring up the blanket closer up to your chin in fear.

Your brow furrowing as your mouth forms a small 'O' in fright. Your small fingers digging into the fabric, skin stretching over white bone. Attention drawn to the harsh patter of rain. You hear it raking and rapping across the border of outside and in, clawing for entry, like the rain itself is frightened of the bleak growling world.

A sliver of dread fills your being as you, reluctantly, glance over to your closet.

You breathed slowly, anxious as terror piled up in your chest. Another strong rattle of thunder that shook the bedroom walls and a brief light illuminating the closed closet doors. A choked scream stuck in your throat as you stare, fixated and terrified. Your breathing felt caged and in time of need, as the closet door clicks open.

You felt your throat bob with a nervous gulp, fingers curling to push biting nails into the blanket. Sudden illumination, the closet door cracked open a jar as the shadows are still at there waltz. An intangible wisps of shadows reach out for you; a compelling urge to delve under your covers. Eyes wide in fright and horror.

The shadows slithering over your skin, your head and arms, and leaving a sort of tingle that made your limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. Confusion and utter fear stirred within you. You couldn't look away from the sight as the closet door slowly creaked open, as the storm outside roared and clashed in fury.

The Shadows swirling and moving like insects that scrambled and chattered over each other.

Suddenly, the insects painted into existence a man, who chuckled at you with malicious octave. A whisper stabbed into your eardrum. You cannot make out the words it calls out, only the sharpness of its tone.

A scream rising up, building itself, inside you as you tensed. A gaunt hand abruptly slid forward and pressed a cold palm flatly over your lips as you inhaled sharply through your nose, jerked your head back into your pillow. Your eyes staring into those unusual dark orbs brightly lined with contrasting gold, as the smile on its face widened and nearly split its face.

That ringing in your ears burrows deep to your fluttering soul. Your insides whirling with raw alarm, fingers breaking through your lightly sealed lips. As something fibrous and fleshy, viscous and slimy enters as you desperately tried to thrash your body or move your head. Whatever was in your mouth started to fill your throat, ramming itself down your throat, forcing its way down into your windpipe and into your gullet.

Your body not responding as you tried desperately to breathe around the thing in your throat, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as your screams were muffled.

"Hm," another chuckle, presumably at your struggles, its eyes closing briefly but opening again as it added, "Your belief in me is exceptional, as is fear your in me. Do you not know what I am, little one? The one thing that causes your little heart to beat in fright. Take a guess."

Violent crackling. It has become a familiar tune to you, though behind it you catch a sense of the screaming. You throat ached as your breathing grew ragged around whatever was in your mouth, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth. Tears starting to fall freely as you whimper.

"Oh, little one. Such unadulterated fear within you." A devilish chuckle escaped past its lips.

Like the screaming of a flute it strings through your senses. A name spilled forward into your mind, as your body grew more heavy and your eyelids started to droop as you struggled to continue breathing. Fighting vainly to remain conscious as you listened to the winds howling and the liquid sorrow of the rain as it strengthens against your window. The bitter taste of bile emerging up your throat, as its words began to flow, velvety and half whispered with such calmness.

The Bogeyman.

"Yes."

Soon, you felt the thing that was in your mouth leave. Thrashing around in your throat making you wince and squirm in pain as it violently tore itself from inside you. Your body regaining its control as your turn away from the figure of the man, coughing and retching loudly. You vomited, tasting it as it forced itself out your mouth. Landing on the bed with a loud splattering sound. Your heart hammering in your chest as if it wanted to burst out of your chest and run. Your palms sweaty and slick.

Tried to cover your mouth with your hand. Puke got all over it. Tears running down freely as you blubbered in fear. forcing yourself to sit up and lean against the headboard. The Nightmare King watched you motionlessly, before leaning forward and lightly touching your forehead with its lips, a whisper slipping against your cool skin.

You merely wept, shaking and trembling in fear as The Bogeyman slip back into your closet, slinking back into the darkness. The closet door shutting softly.

Hot tears streamed down your face. Your body shaking violently from fear and anger as the smell of vomit assaulted your sense of smell. Opening your mouth slowly as you let out a bellowing cry of terror and screeched until your throat burned even more. The lights flicking on, blinding you as you felt warm hands cupping your face. A stream of words falling from your lips, recounting the terror of The Bogeyman.

The thunderstorm outside slowly receding as you were rushed to the bathroom to clean up. Your mind grasping at the chilling encounter as you puked once more into your hands, your mother gently maneuvering you over the toilet so you can puke in there. Snot and tears falling down your chubby cheeks. Your curls matted down to your head thanks to sweat.

The gentle soothing words from your mother failing to calm you down as you clung to the toilet. Little hands holding onto the toilet seat for dear life. This was not over. This was just the beginning.

You know The Bogeyman will be back.

And you fear that he will hurt you even more.