He whimpered as he gripped the flashlight, trying his best to keep in the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He heard the creaking of the floorboards and the small bang of the table in the hall being jostled by the creature that prowled outside.
He stood up and tread quickly and cautiously to the door, keeping his eyes glued to the floor in fear. Gripping the doorknob, he opened the door; shivering as it creaked. He looked down the hallway and clicked the button on the torch. He could see it…
The sharp claws that clicked and popped with the slightest twitch, the jaws that remain forever trapped in gapping roars, and the glowing eyes that induce that spine-chilling fear that threatens to smother your will to live. He saw the shift in the shadows as the nightmare pulled its torso around the corner, hiding its malicious grin.
The prey in this brutal game retreated into his room and ran to his bed; fearful of the door being opened while his back was turned. He crouched in front of the bed and shined the light onto the comforter. The three small, brown bears that convulsed and shuddered growled at the light. The demonic teddy bears hissed at him and retreated under his bed.
The clock began to run down, inching closer to the dawn. But his flashlight let out a mechanical buzz and the beam flickered. He shook the gadget that was his lifeline, begging it to last just a little bit longer. He was still shaking and hitting the utensil against his palm when he turned and his eyes widened when he saw someone that he had not expected to see peeking from the closet.
It was not the gruesome pirate fox with the metal-framed muzzle or the demonic golden bear with the bloody teeth or even the horrid black monster that bent the reality in this eternal hell.
It was the small yellow rabbit with the sharp teeth and the dirty fur…
It peeked around the closet door, gripping it with its matted yellow hand, ready to dart back into the darkness. The beady eyes set in its head trembled as it stared at the helpless child watching it as the flashlight began to fade.
The eyes that once held deadly glinted mischief were now filled with pity and fear. The toy carefully took a step forwards out of the closet, and then another. The boy reached out a timid hand and the toy mirrored him.
The boy felt the desire to pick the plushy creature up, to hold it close and bury his head into the fur that was as soft as it was worn.
But the rabbit's eyes suddenly changed… rolling upward to stare in terror at something the child had yet to notice.
The boy looked over his shoulder and felt his breath catch as he turned to his bed.
The inky black monstrosity rose above them both, it's burning eyes reflecting an insane desire to devour and destroy the thing in front of it. Sharp claws outstretched and unnaturally large teeth poised to bite.
The child attempted to run; he tried to slip to the side, hoping to run through the door and into the hallway. But the pressure of the claws that gripped his shoulders already told him of the futility of that plan.
He felt himself being picked up and was aware that he was truly petrified. He could not move and even if he could; this was not a monster he could run from. The flashlight dropped to the floor with a padded thump.
He was turned around and he found himself looking at the little bunny on the ground, it stared in horror at the scene in front of him; but the poor victim knew.
It could do nothing but watch.
The flashlight went out at the very moment the monsters mouth came over the child's head.
He could feel it; he felt the teeth on the upper jaw pierce the front of his skull; those in the back were driven through his nape and into his spinal cord.
The world crumbled around him as he felt the inner jaws penetrate and dig into his brain…and all that was left to remind him that he did in fact exist and that time was still moving; was the sickening, wet CRUNCH!
Mike woke up clutching his scalp and clawing at his short, black hair. He temples were throbbing and the nape of his neck and his back felt cold with sweat. His mismatched eyes darting back and forth to verify his surroundings.
He turned frantically to take in his surroundings; a dingy coffee table was in front of the tattered couch that he was currently laying on. A half empty water bottle sat on a napkin near the upper left corner and in the center was yesterday's newspaper.
A small bedside table with only one drawer sat against the wall that his head had been resting against and an old TV sat on top of that. His kitchen and sink and cabinets sat on the far side of the room,
God, what time was it? He looked at his digital clock on the table out of habit, forgetting that it was broken. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and rested his head on his knees. He couldn't see the sky from the window, due to the building next door; but he guessed it was a little before sun up. He had been waking up at that exact same time, for the last week.
He got up and stepped over his trusty toolbox that sat on the floor for when he wanted something to do, the screws and bolts that he hadn't put away last night, and a motherboard from an old toy one of his neighbors kids' had given him.
He put his head in the sink and allowed the cold murky water to drench his scalp. He jolted a bit at the sudden temperature change, and then relaxed as much as he could. He felt his drowsiness fade away with wetness on his head and when he pulled his head from under the faucet, he didn't feel any less tired, but he felt a bit more awake.
He pulled up and roughly mussed up his hair, working the dampness out. He stood up, grunting painfully as his shoulder cracked. Of God… it was too early for this.
He wanted so badly to go back to sleep. He tried his best to not be awake for too long in apartment. It was too small; he could barely take 10 steps from one side to the other. He slept, ate and sat up front; the only other place he could go was the bathroom that somehow was able to hold a toilet, sink and shower. His ancient stove and microwave looked as though they could tell him so stories about Clinton's term in the White House and his sofa looked like it had been stitched together in a barn. (It was, but that wasn't the point.) A tiny mini fridge sat near the rickety farmhouse table, looking like an abandoned puppy.
He heard a song whose name he couldn't remember coming from the couch, it was by Living…something or other. He didn't know. But he walked over to the couch and reached under it for the source of the sound.
He didn't flinch when he felt little creatures scurry over his hands, and grabbed the vibrating noisemaker. He pulled his phone out and saw a name that made him smile.
"Mom" was flashing out him from the screen. He pressed the answer button and held the phone to his head before sitting down on the couch.
"Good Morning!" He heard a cheery voice call out with a distinctive echo in the background.
"Good morning…" Mike said wearily.
"Is something wrong?" She said with concern.
"No, no; just had a rough… night" He said with a small yawn.
"Hmm, well; it's a new day! New opportunities, new chances, new people to meet!" She exclaimed over the phone. "Are you excited?"
"For the job?" He asked. "Yeah, I guess."
"You guess?"
"I mean, it's a job; mom." He shrugged, even though he knew she could not see him. "Not even a real good one. 120$ a week?"
"That's it?" He heard his mom ask in surprise. "Uh, well; you've only just graduated College honey. Of coarse, you work your way up." She said, regaining her cheerful demeanor. "Where are you working again?"
"Just a restaurant." He said, not telling her where he was going just yet. "I'll tell you where if I get the job." He really didn't want to tell her that the 120$ per week was the entire paycheck.
"Oh Michael, I'm so proud of you!" He heard her all but shriek over the phone. "Straight out of college and into work! Oh if your father could see you now!" He pictured her clutching her chest.
"Hmm" Mike grunted over the phone, not really sure what to say in response to that. His mom liked to do this. She enjoyed comparing him, her son, to her dearly departed husband. The man who, according to her; was an inspiration to every person. "The fellow everyone strived to be and look up to. Men, woman, children; oh, he was inspired everyone. Never left anyone to feel alone or uncared for!"
It wasn't that he didn't believe her, heck; he grew up with the man! But…the more you heard of it, the less it seemed true. Still, Mike never interrupted her. Her neighbors said that this was her way of coping with his death. Maybe, she'd been stepping up her borderline worship of him since his passing a year ago. Mike felt she'd been doing better. Though, he felt a little uncomfortable about her…living arrangements.
"Uh, Momma?" He said, using the more familiar word to halt her monologue and get her attention on him. "Yes honey?"
"How-how are you?" He asked hesitantly.
"Oh, I'm fine honey!" She said. Her tone was perky and enthusiastic. She didn't get what he was getting at.
"I mean, how are you? Up there, alone?" He said hesitantly. She didn't answer right away. His mother had never enjoyed people tampering in her life of her business. She had refused homes, declined assisted living and turned down roommates. There was too much space between properties for neighbors to visit her, and she only saw her friends when she went out. With nobody at home to keep an eye on her, Mike used to try and keep touch. But upon graduation, he had moved states away; and he hadn't really had time recently.
"…I'm fine." Her tone had become notably more subdued. She wasn't cold, she never was; but she had definitely become quieter. "Mom?" He questioned.
"I'm fine honey. Just sitting down." She sounded so tired. "Do you need anything?"
"No ma'am."
"No money? No food?"
"No ma'am."
"Because Gordon down the street, he gave me some apples. I have more than enough."
"I'm fine." Mike leaned back against the couch.
"Well, I won't keep you any longer." Mike rested his head against the wall. "I love you sweetie." She said in the comforting voice he had always loved.
He swallowed. "You too." He heard the click of his mothers phone, and he was disconnected. Mike pressed the button on his cell, and the screen went dark.
Mike sighed deeply. He loved his mother, he really did; and he had loved his father. But, things hadn't easy since his father died. When Mike received his scholarship, he hadn't really felt comfortable leaving. The college wasn't far, but the big scared him. No one knew why. They told him he was smart, he was good looking, and he had a lot to offer. But, the idea of facing everything beyond what his parents could offer him made him nervous.
But he did leave. He graduated with a degree in robotics; full credits and an encouraging future. But, he still wanted to stay in his hometown. So he got this dump, and his parents, feeling confident that he at least knew his way around town; packed and moved to Wisconsin.
He didn't really have the heart to tell his mother that knowing your way around doesn't really negate the dangers. Living in this crappy place was proof enough.
Mike decided that it was time to start they day, like his mom said. He got up and prepared to start his shower. As he got ready, he couldn't shake the feeling that something very big was going to happen. It felt like dark clouds were gathering over his head, dark, but with no thunder or lightning; ominous, but not oppressive; eerie, but not directly threatening.
Mike attempted to shake off his feeling of foreboding; he remembered the last thing he had thought yesterday. After dealing with his ass of a landlord and barely having enough gas to get to the next service station to get to work in his 2000 Nissan Maxima.
"Tomorrow is another Day."
This has been in the working stage (Kinda sad that it comes out when it seems the Fandom is withering), but if you find this, I hope you enjoy it.
Constructive criticism is welcome and I hope you all enjoy this.