The monster under the bed

They were coming. He knew they were coming. His heart was pounding in his ears, fast and afraid. Curled up in a kind of self-hug, knees brought up to his chest, he shook with terror. Biting his lip so hard it bled, his big blue eyes anxiously peering out, tears running unchecked down his face. He huddled in the corner of the room; gaze locked on the door; bolted, even though he knew that wouldn't stop them. Outside, a floorboard creaked. He jumped, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle a cry. Slow and deliberate footsteps echoed around the landing, just on the other side of the flimsy plywood door. Breathing deeply, trying not to lapse into hyperventilation, he scrunched his eyes shut and buried his head between his knees. The footsteps stopped. But they were still coming. He knew they were…

Vince awoke with a start, body drenched in sweat, coughing violently.

"Howard?" he called out. "Howard?" louder this time, and the jazzy Northerner walked in, holding a cup of tea in his hands. Vince's hair was dishevelled, his eyes wide with dark circles underneath.

"What's wrong, little man?" Howard asked, concern seeping in through the edges of his voice as he sat down on the end of Vince's bed. Vince was shaking slightly.

"I had… it was… I-" he stumbled over his own words. Howard placed a hand on his shoulder. Vince took in a deep breath, calming himself. "I had a bad dream," he said finally, then frowned. No, no; that was an understatement. "An awful dream. Like, really horrible, Howard."

Howard smiled pitifully. For a moment he thought something was really wrong.

"What happened?" he asked. But Vince just shook his head. "…Vince?"

Vince began to speak again, but this time he was quieter, voice small and fractured.

"I've had it more than once," he admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"…Every day this week. It scares me, Howard, it's horrible!"

Howard rubbed a hand in circles around his friend's back, hushing him soothingly. "Shush, it's okay. You don't have to tell me."

"But I want to," Vince squeaked. "I need to."

Howard furrowed his brow. "Not if you feel uncomfortable talking about it, Vince."

"No, Howard, I need to," Vince insisted, raising big sapphire eyes to meet Howard's. "I've got this feeling that if I don't, something really bad will happen to both of us."

Howard laughed gently. "Nothing bad's gonna happen to you. Nothing worse than your straighteners breaking or whatever-"

"My straighteners have broken?" Vince's eyes flashed with alarm.

"No," Howard chuckled. "That was an example."

"Oh," Vince smiled briefly, before returning to his trembling state. Howard chewed his lip momentarily, before nudging his friend lightly.

"'Ey," he said softly. "This isn't like you. Come on, tell me about it."

Vince hiccupped, and shook his head, looking up at Howard with what seemed to be a genuine smile.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine. Just a silly dream, right?"

Howard breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God, you're back."

They both laughed, and Howard ruffled Vince's hair, and Vince shot Howard a playful glare. Howard smirked, standing up.

"You alright, little man?" he checked. The bedhead nodded and smiled and repeated;

"It was just a silly dream."

I've never written horror before so I thought I'd give it a shot (:

Please r/r (: (: Sorry i haven't posted anything for sooooo long! I am still alive!

xxx