Chapter 1-The Old, Worn out Door

It was a cold and dreary evening, the wild wind howling into the night as the great splash of rain hit the windows with a powerful force to echo within the dark, quiet house. The home creaked and groaned from old age, having lived a long life with the constant changing of seasons and weather. Very little light was shed into the shadows that clung to the furniture and corners of the old, sleepy house. The storm outside prevented the moon from shedding silver light onto the town below. The only place where light dwelled was in the upper landing of the old house, second room down to the right, behind a closed, worn out door.

The shadows did not go near the door, instead, they surrounded the door. Staring at the wooden frame with vague interest and curiosity as only a shadow could hold. They once knew of a similar door that was decorated with pretty little flowers and paint that was so smooth and colorful, it could still be seen even in the dark. And it was open. There was once was a little ball of light pouring out from the open doorway, off to tucked away corner within the room where it shined with a smile. And though it was small and young, the light was bright and warm, full of laughter and fun.

Some years have gone by and the door remained open, and the light was still there. But as time went, the light began to falter and fizzle. Then one day, it died. But still that door remained open, inviting the darkness in to come and stay for a while. Never mind the small twinge of fear or dread that darkness brings as an offer, for there is some comfort within the darkness that hides all things that wishes to be tucked in the black folds.

And then, the door closed.

The door has remained shut for many years, with no light to hold and no laughter to be heard. Overtime, the door began to age. Having once held a vibrant appearance of all things bright and colorful. Now it is old, dark, and cold. The paint having peeled and faded away, the stickers were scrapped off, and the wood groaned with weariness from age. The door had changed greatly over the years.

Now, though, there is light creeping through the cracks and washing the floor in its glow. A curious sight it was for no light has ever been seen from the room for such a long time. That is, until the occupant decided to turn on the lamp on the desk where papers, pencils, and pens were strewn about. A chair was pulled up, a blanket was grabbed, and the occupant settled down, and stared down at the pencil in her hand.

A murmured passed between chapped lips and, with a glance at her door, went and pulled on her headphones to drown out her thoughts. Hunching over the desk and pausing to pick a song before turning her attention to the paper, she began to draw without a thought. The music provided a distraction, as she worked out the curves and shapes of the picture coming out form her head. Not even glancing at the old, dusty night-light plugged under her desk. All thoughts were drowned out by the rhythm in playing in her ears, and in that moment, time passed on and left her behind. Too lost in the elaborate colors and paints as a picture began to slowly but gradually form, that she did not bother to check the time.

Short, blonde locks cut messily spilled over hunched shoulders, some stained with splashes of paint of different colors at the ends. Pale, stained hands moved with a precision over the picture, mixing colors and twisting around to move along with the shapes drawn by a lightly touched pencil on paper precision. Narrowed, green eyes that once shown vibrancy were now dulled and weary, yet held a small spark that lit up then dulled down every so often. Dark bruises hung below the eyes, displaying evident lack of sleep that has went on for a questionable amount of time. Dry, chapped lips opened briefly in a murmur before closing tightly, a deep frown set into place in concentration.

A brief hiss escaped when a particular smudge form in one part of the picture and a frustrated sigh came soon after.

"Great…" a voice cracked deeply as the girl placed the brush in the cup full of water. Leaning over to inspect the ugly smudge that appeared and scrunched her face up in distaste and annoyance. Rolling her eyes up at the ceiling whilst yanking her earphones out and muttered several curses under her breath.

"The Force is not with me tonight…?" the girl furrowed her eyebrows as she thought for a moment, taking out her phone and checking the current time. A low groan escaped, and a tired body slumped over the chair that leaned back on its legs. "Good morning world…I have exactly five hours before I should get ready for my last day at middle school this year…great…"

Sarcasm dripped with each word that was said, the girl stood up and began to put away the art supplies over her desk. Careful to not spill anything on the already drying picture, the girl swept everything into a box under the desk and grabbed the blanket wrapped over her chair. Without a thought, she turned off the lamp on her desk, immediate darkness greeting her vision as she stumbled off to the welcoming bed not far from where she was at.

Collapsing on the soft mattress, the girl groaned and rolled over on her side, wrapped up in warm sheets and resting her head on the inviting comfort of a pillow. A rush of sleepiness hit, making her feel sluggish and stupid in an instant, wanting nothing more than to close her tired eyes and rest. But she fought back, reaching out clumsily through the darkness, searching for something by her bedside table.

"Come on…" she cursed, glaring into nothing in particular.

She had to charge her phone.

Emitting a frustrating sound and pulling her upper body up, she shifting and turned over the edge of the bed and sought out the cord to charge her phone. Whilst searching in the dark, there was a chill that ran down her spine in greeting.

A pause came when soft, cold fingers greeted her own.

"Looking for this?"

She stared down at the shadowy claw that sprouted from underneath the edge of her bed. Able to see with what little light there was for her eyes to notice the thin, white cord being held in an almost delicate manner between two, pointed, black fingers that held no detail or true shape within their form. A low, chilling chuckle came from underneath the bed as she continued to stare, only it was with a tired humor that danced within her now bright green eyes.

"Yes, thank you…"

Without hesitation, she grabbed the cord from the shadowy fingers, a shot of trepidation and fear coming up into her heart and caused her blood to flow faster within her veins. Freezing mid touch, the girl gripped the fingers in a rather tight manner before releasing them. Letting out a breath she did not know she was holding.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly recomposed herself and plugged her phone in, placing it on the table beside her bed.

The hand retreated slowly back under the bed where the current occupant murmured something that went unheard by the girl. Shifting was heard as the girl settled into a comfortable position, staring off into the dark.

"Hey, Mr. Boogieman…"

The shadows shifted underneath as the occupant drew their attention to the girl on the bed on top. Curios, the occupant went toward the edge of the bed and peeked above at the hand that hung overhead. The low chuckle that was emitted from the dark being's throat was quickly silenced by the sight of the marks shown on said arm. A solemn mood settling once seeing the two scars on the otherwise unmarked skin.

"Yes…?"

"…will you be there at the end of school? I mean, so that we can go hang out or something?"

"….yes."

A small, tired smile formed on her freckled face, green eyes closing shut as she whispered one last thing before drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you…"

A few minutes passed, with nothing but the sounds of the groaning house and the slow, even breathing of the sleeping girl.

Then, out from below rose a tall, dark form that towered over the bed below. Eclipsed orbs stared down at the sleeping child, ashen lips quirking the ever slightest at the sight. A slender arm reached outwards where shadows clung to it like a cloak, seeming to come out of darkness itself.

Slender gray fingers brushed over stained locks of hair and the hand petted the head of the unconscious child lying in a dreamless sleep. With not golden dreams or black nightmares to plague her thoughts, getting what little rest she's managed to obtain at the moment.

The shade's hand did not linger long, drawing back quickly so as to not awaken the girl who needed her rest. If anything, the shade will make sure she gets it soon. Very soon.

"Sophie…"

The shadow retreated back to the dwellings under the bed, deciding to preserve what little energy the dark thing had left. Not wanting to be weakened by the sun's bright rays if the clouds should part come tomorrow morning.

"Sleep well, my little Sophie…"

The Boogieman whispered to the girl softly, in an almost tender way.

Sophie Bennett shifted and rolled to her side, a relaxed expression shown on her face.

It has been a long time since she had last been so content within her sleep. Dreaming of nothing and everything at once. In her dark, dark room.

And even though the door was closed and the lights were off, there could still be seen a small glimmer shown behind the cracks and wooden frame.

The old, dusty nightlight flickered on from its place within the socket.

And it couldn't have been anymore brighter.