Disclaimer: I don't own the story The Boogeyman by Stephen King. Nor do I profit by my use of it.
Authors Note: This story came to me rather late at night and I couldn't go to sleep until I finished it (witch took longer than you would think).
The Boogeyman
I shivered closing the book in front of me. Reading a Steven King story on my first night of officially living alone was probably not the best decision of my life. I looked around my small bedroom. Checking nervously for unidentifiable shapes. I had only moved into the apartment, my first apartment, that morning. Having spent two years in college dorm I was looking forward to the peace and quiet my own place would provide. Now though, I wasn't so sure.
It was dark, the only illumination coming from a small book light I used to read. The room was mostly empty aside from a few boxes stacked in one corner and the mattress I currently lay on pushed against a wall. Right next to me the closet, a word that after reading this story would never be the same to me, had its doors gaping open as if into a dark abyss. The boogeyman would always leave the closet open a crack.
I chuckled nervously. I was being stupid it was just a story. Of course it was just a story. A large boom sounded and I jumped nearly two feet. Walking over to the single 1-foot by 1-foot window in the room I stood on my toes to reach the sill. Outside I could hear the soft patter of rain, growing faster and faster till its sound was constant. Lightning streaked across the sky and the deep grumble of thunder followed. Silly, stupid, stupid, stupid. It was just thunder.
Stop it, I thought. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a grown up with my own apartment. Grown ups weren't afraid of thunderstorms and they certainly weren't afraid of made up stories. They were afraid of their bosses, the stock market, and stuff like that but not stories.
I glanced at my watch its red letters blinked 12:04. I better get to bed I thought. The professor of my 7:30 am philosophy class would probably not be to amused when I tried to explain I missed his exam because of a story.
I lay back down on my mattress hugging a pillow tightly. I left the book light on. I lay there starring at the open doors of the closet, searching for movement in the deep recesses of its darkness.The sounds of the storm raged on in the background. This was ridiculous. I got up to close the closet doors but hesitated my hand on the knob. I could just make sure nothing was in there. It wouldn't hurt.
I picked up my book light holding it for a second before tossing it gently inside. The space becoming suddenly illuminated. It was empty except for a few hangers. Relief washed over me. Relief? Why would I feel relief? Of course the closet was empty. All my clothes were still in boxes. I could not deny though, I felt reassured when I lay back down, even safe. Safe how stupid. I had nothing to feel safe from.
I starred at the book light for what must have been hours; making sure its heartening light was still there. I tried to ignore it at first but I noticed how slowly the glow grew darker. The damn batteries must of been running out and I didn't have anymore.My stomach turned sickly as I watched helplessly as the light finally went out.
I shivered, fear gripping me for some unexplainable reason. I was beyond berating myself for my childish behavior. All thought was gone from my head as I watched the closet unable to tear away my gaze.
Oh, god. Shear terror flooded through me. I was unable to move as I heard crackling laughter come from the closet. It came closer and closer, through the blackness. "So nice," the voice from the closet said.
"So nice." The words sounded as if they might have come through a mouthful of rotted seaweed. "So nice, that story is so nice. Always gives people a bit of a scare." And I continued to lay on my mattress holding my pillow tightly. To petrified to move as the boogeyman came closer and closer.