Part III

I'm friends with the monster
That's under my bed
Get along with the voices inside of my head
You're trying to save me
Stop holding your breath

The Monster, Eminem, featuring Rihanna


Forcing yourself to peer over the side of the bed, in the middle of the night, all alone in the dark of your empty (or not so empty) apartment is akin to jumping out of a burning plane without knowing if you have a working parachute or a dud on your back.

Those are the thoughts that would have been going through Sarah's mind if her brain had kept functioning. It didn't. She really regretted not getting a dog or a burly live-in boyfriend, because Loki was apparently inclined to act for neither.

All she knew for sure was that at some point her heart had lodged in her throat and all higher functions in her head had ceased.

"There are no monsters under the bed," she whispered again.

The sound grew louder.

I don't need you to believe in me…

"Oh god…"

For the first time in too many years to count, she wanted to call for her mother. The same mother that had essentially abandoned her. Paralyzing fear skews the mind, even brilliant ones. And in the end, all babes remember where they first felt safe.

By sheer force of will, she pulled the covers from around her head. Fight or flight called for some kind of action either way. The room felt colder than she remembered leaving it. The skin on her face tightened and her breath, inexplicably, misted in the dim light.

Gently she rolled onto her stomach and inched towards the edge of the bed. Her knuckles bled white against the sheets. Propping her weight on her elbows, she eased her head towards the side, her damp hair falling into a curtain around her face, and held her breath.

The scratching grew louder, more persistent and closer…

Why couldn't she be like most students and just have a mattress on the floor?

Just do it, dammit. Like a band aid.

She opened her eyes slowly, one at a time, inhaled and craned her head over the edge.

The scratching stopped.

Something shuffled forward and Sarah's remaining sanity fractured.

Loki poked his head from beneath the bed. Blinked his eyes at her, stretched and batted gently at Sarah's hair.

"Oh Jesus… you little shit," Sarah exhaled. She collapsed onto her back, one hand falling to her chest in an attempt to quiet her erratic heart. Laughter bubbled out of her uncontrollably.

"Of all the days…" and that's when Sarah realized there was still a weight at her feet.

Her eyes popped back open just as all the lights went out.


Toby turned off the TV just as the movie ended. He didn't have much experience with horror movies, but he knew enough to know that it had been a thoroughly effective one. Not that he was scared. He looked around at the empty living room and mentally counted how many lights he'd have to turn off on his way upstairs. The front door was locked but he should probably check it again. Just to be safe. That was the smart thing to do. The adult thing. That second coke was a probably not a good idea. The third was definitely a mistake. The caffeine/ sugar combo was making him jittery.

A definite positive of Max's arrival was his parents' constant need for sleep. They tended to collapse when the baby went down. And when they did go down it was the deep slumber of the perennially sleep deprived. It hadn't taken him long to realize he could capitalize on that fact. He considered watching whatever he wanted to on TV to be his reward for putting up with an unasked for and sometimes unwanted baby.

His consolation for Sarah leaving.

If he'd been his father he wouldn't have let her leave… Toby suddenly very much wanted to call her.

He forced his feet to move and began to switch off the lights, trying hard not to think about the encroaching darkness; how it felt like he was being swallowed by it. The front door was still firmly locked. Not that that had helped the family in the movie, his mind reminded him spitefully. He stopped by the kitchen and flipped the timer on the coffee maker for his parents. He knew Max would have them up early. As he neared the landing, the furnace kicked on, making him jump. He told himself that he was just tired, and that was why he ran up the stairs; not because there was anything behind him. Ten year olds shouldn't be afraid of the bogey man anymore. He passed his parents' room. He could hear his father snoring. His mother too, not that he'd ever be brave (or foolish) enough to tell her. When he got to his room, he found his window open. There had been an open window in the movie too. Toby had scoffed at that part – at their foolishness. Bad things only happened if you let bad things in. He shut the window firmly. And then drew the blinds and curtains for extra measure. He pretended it was for privacy.

He got undressed quickly and changed into superhero pajamas - ones he would deny owning if anyone asked. His room was cold, not surprisingly, given his window was open, so he scooted into bed quickly. He debated leaving his night table light on. He thought long and hard about it – weighing the pros and cons. When he finally decided to pull the cord, he spied a wadded up piece of paper on the table. It was his fortune from earlier. The one he'd shoved in his mouth and then spit out later. He'd forgotten about it.

The paper was gummed together from his saliva, but as a ten year old boy, he'd touched much worse. He pulled it apart carefully, having not actually read it at the table in his haste to annoy his sister.

'Sometimes all you have to do is wish.'

Toby snorted. If that were true, he'd still be in Max's room and Sarah would be home right now. Where she belongs. Fortunes were always lame. Even with 'in bed' at the end. He tossed it back on the table. The cookies kind of sucked too. There should be Chinese Twinkies instead.

He turned the knob on his lamp and drew the blankets over his head. It was just because he was cold, he reasoned. He certainly knew that hiding under blankets was no protection. It hadn't worked out for that one girl in the movie anyway.

Not that movies were real.

They aren't, he decided emphatically, just as the music started.

Toby froze. At first he thought it was some toy from Max's room. Max had all manner of annoying toys. The music was of a tinny type. Definitely a toy, he reasoned, and waited for it to turn off. When it didn't he tried following its direction. He grabbed for Lancelot when he realized it was coming from his closet. He wanted to call for his mom, but found he lacked the capacity to speak. She'd be mad that he woke her up. He'd probably wake Max too. Then he'd have to explain about the cokes and the movie. Still – he wanted to yell for her. Or he could phone Sarah. Sarah always knew how to make things better. But the nearest phone was in his parents' room. Or worse – downstairs. He waited, hoping the music would wake his parents. Or Max. Max would get the whole house up.

If he strained his ears he could still hear the snoring. Useless baby. He pulled the covers off and swung his feet over the edge, keeping his eyes trained on the closet. He blindly reached over and turned on his lamp. When he reached the doors, he was embarrassed to find that his hands were shaking. And for a moment they mutinously refused to listen to his brain. He didn't notice that he was still holding the bear.

When he finally pulled the doors open, the muffled music grew louder and he could see slight movement on the shelf next to his cap collection. Reaching between the hats, his fingers closed around something metal. When he pulled down a music box he stared at it in confusion. A doll turning inside a mirrored carousel. He vaguely recognized it as Sarah's. She'd kept it in a trunk in her room - his room now. He'd assumed it had been hers from childhood, though he'd never seen it out anywhere. Always in the trunk he wasn't supposed to touch.

It was strangely warm in his hand, the figurine turning and turning to the slow music. Music that was disturbing for no discernible reason. Examining the doll, with its long dark hair, he had the sudden ridiculous notion that it was Sarah in the childish over-sized dress. He let it play for another moment before he flipped it over. No batteries. It was a wind up box – he forced the crank until it stopped. Probably defective. Old things usually were.

He had no easy answer for how it got in his closet though, and he possessed the mind of an imaginative 10 year old. Any ideas he did have were better left as ideas. Sarah had taken almost all of her things with her when she'd moved. Anything she'd left was in the attic…

An instant, awful shiver shot down his spine.

His need to pee was forgotten. Or maybe he'd peed himself already. He placed the music box on his desk and reached over to turn on the light to his bedroom. Only then did he open his bedroom door. Only then did he let his eyes wander out into the darkened hall and up to the ceiling.

Up to the ceiling where the attic crawl space hatch was open. All the lights went out.


Sarah bit her lip to hold back a sob. The metallic tang of blood slid across her tongue. She curled her feet up towards her body as carefully as possible. Pulling them away from whatever was on the end of her bed.

Move, Sarah. Do something! Anything!

She suddenly very much wished she'd taken Toby's offer and spent the night at home. Her body was hyper aware that her t-shirt had ridden up and was bunched around her waist. And that she was wearing nothing underneath. Her damp hair was clammy against her face and neck, prickling her over-sensitive skin uncomfortably. The darkness was absolute.

She knew her phone was on her desk. Just out of reach. When nothing happened she'd almost convinced herself it was all in her head.

And then the weight moved. She thrashed in her efforts to extricate herself from the tangle of covers, and then froze again when she felt something move against her legs. Through the down, it felt like the splayed digits of a hand – gripping lightly. She knew then that she needed to react, but shock had momentarily paralyzed her. The touch, muted by the blanket, slid towards her knee and then up her thigh 'til it settled on the jut of her hip. Leisurely, she thought wildly. It continued its path upwards, across her ribs, just skirting her breasts until it skimmed her collar bone – soft and subtle and ghosted over her pulse point. She swallowed reflexively, still frozen, when her hair was brushed away. Her eyes strained wildly in the dark, hands forming white knuckled fists at her side.

The shrill ring of a phone cut through the silence, and with that she thrust up violently - both arms swinging defensively and the scream finally tearing free from her throat.

The lights flickered back on and Sarah scanned the room wildly. Empty. She threw herself from her bed so quickly that she ended up on the floor. She scrambled to her feet, legs boneless, collapsed again. She backed into the desk painfully.

Sarah grabbed blindly for the receiver. "Hello?" she shouted.

"Sarah? It's Toby."

"Toby?" she asked in confusion, her eyes still darting about the room. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?" In the background she could hear Max wailing and she belatedly registered the shaky quality of her brother's voice.

"Um, no. I mean yes, everyone is fine. We're fine," he repeated. "How are you?"

Sarah's brows furrowed. "Toby?"

"Did you lose power? We lost power here. It's back now though, I mean."

She relaxed marginally, realized her own voice was little more than a warble. "I did. So you did too, huh? Did it scare you? It scared me."

Max had quieted and she could hear Karen saying something to Toby.

"I… er, yes," he admitted. "I, um, watched that movie I shouldn't have. And then I got… scared and the power went out…"

"So you called me to see if I was okay?" Sarah supplied smoothly. "That was sweet of you."

He laughed nervously. "Yah, pretty much. The lights going out made me scr… er, jump and I guess I woke up Max, who then woke up everyone else."

"I'm sure Karen and dad were thrilled with that."

Toby held the phone out so Sarah could hear for a moment. "Very thrilled it sounds."

"Look, sorry if I woke you up…"

"You didn't. I was awake."

"I didn't mean to scare you… You, er, sounded kinda not okay when you answered the phone."

"Don't worry about it." She looked around her room again.

"If you are scared you could come sleep here."

Sarah was sorely tempted, especially by the hopeful lilt in Toby's voice. But it would be too much to explain and it was already really late. She rubbed her forehead.

"Thanks for the offer, kiddo, but I don't think I should be driving right now. You get some sleep, huh?"

"Yah. Okay. You too. Sorry for calling. Karen, I mean mom, says it was rude."

"No worries. Call me anytime. I mean that."

"I know."

Sarah heard dial tone and immediately wished she'd kept talking to him. She reluctantly replaced the phone in the base and then cradled her temples again.

She had to be going crazy. Pushing off the desk she checked the window to make sure it was shut and locked. She padded out into the hall and did the same with the bathroom, before turning off the light and shutting the door firmly. She checked the small linen closet and then made her way to the front door. She calmed a little more when she found it still firmly locked. Dead bolt included. She checked the tiny galley kitchen, eyeing her sink full of dirty dishes distastefully before turning off the light. The similarly small dining room was empty save for the remaining work she had piled on top of the table. She checked the living room, verifying again that the few windows were locked. She pulled the curtains closed tightly and left the lights on. When she made it back to her room, Loki was curled up on her pillow. He blinked at her blearily when she yanked open her closet and checked inside. Before she could chicken out, she ducked down and checked under the bed too, closing her eyes in relief when all she found was dust bunnies. When she stood back up, her attention was drawn to the end of the bed and she stared at it for a full minute. There seemed to be an impression of… something that had settled on the end. When she tentatively put her hand on it, her mind warred with itself whether or not the spot felt warm. Sarah snatched her hand back and then whipped the duvet off the bed and slid the pillow out from under her disgruntled cat. He padded to the foot of the bed and lay back down with his back to her. He found a warm spot, her mind supplied helpfully. Sarah tugged on a pair of shorts and then returned to the living room, leaving the light on in her room when she left. She switched on the TV and pressed play on the VCR. The familiar opening bars of Willow started a few seconds later. Might as well earn that late fee. She curled up on the couch into a fetal position with her duvet and pillow and tried to focus on the screen. Her eyes kept drifting back to her bedroom.

Her mind could convince itself otherwise, using reason and logic and evidence, but her body couldn't deny the touch in the dark. Sarah shivered and a fitful sleep did not find her until well-past the credits rolling.


Across town, Toby's eyes were still open too. They'd started to burn in fact, but he didn't want to shut them. Max had finally settled again and if he listened hard enough, he could hear that his parents had too. He promised himself he'd never watch another horror movie again – even knowing it was a promise he'd likely break.

Listening to the silence of the house, he waited a few more minutes before he stole from his bed with his comforter and pillow and Lancelot. He made his way to the hall, refusing to look at the ceiling and then crept into Max's room as quietly as he could. He knew he'd be murdered if he woke the precious baby up again. He made himself a little pallet on the floor next to the crib, curling the covers over himself and Lancelot like armour, and focused on Max's soft, even exhalations.

"Don't worry, Max," Toby whispered. "I'm here."


Sarah pushed through the glass doors and yawned. She knew she looked awful. She felt awful. Sleeping on the small couch, not much bigger than a loveseat, had left her cramping in all the wrong places. She'd had awful dreams, ones she couldn't remember when she woke but had left an imprint – like a bruise that had faded but still ached. She nodded at a fellow Lit grad. The other girl looked awful too, but for all the right reasons Sarah supposed.

When she had woken that morning, her TV was still on – a blue screen with a low hum. In the final quicksilver moments between sleep and waking, all the events of the night and day settled back into place and the rationalizations began.

As a result, Sarah found herself at the library, with strong coffee in hand. It was public. Innocuous. Anonymous.

And tainted.

Sarah needed to work. She also needed to speak to Barbara.

She took the stairs to the fourth floor, her cramped legs protesting. Barbara looked up when Sarah approached.

"You!"

Sarah stilled, surprised in a half-started yawn.

"I thought we agreed that you'd follow the rules? I put my job on the line, Sarah." She hissed. "You're lucky I was going to reset all the tapes today anyway."

Sarah stared blankly until it registered. Tapes. The Rare Book Collection would naturally have surveillance cameras as part of its security. Her fingers itched guiltily.

"Oh God, Barbara, I am SO sorry. I couldn't resist! It was only for a few seconds and only one page…" She trailed off at the look of confusion on the librarian's face.

"What are you talking about?"

"…What are you talking about?

Barbara shook her head in annoyance. "Follow me."

Sarah followed the older woman into a small windowless room. Inside were various types of AV equipment. "I'm talking about this." Barbara reached over and pushed a button on a small TV.

The grainy feed dimly showed Sarah seated; her attention to the door. There was no sound. Even in the distorted tape she could see the white of the discarded gloves beside her. She side-eyed Barbara but the librarian said nothing.

The video Sarah jumped and then settled.

"There, see?"

The outline of a figure moved into the frame and stopped behind Sarah, so close it was almost touching her.

Sarah's hand flew to her mouth and trembled.

The quality and lack of lighting meant she could discern nothing other than shape. Tall and slim.

Cloaked by shadow.

She recalled the hairs prickling on her neck. They prickled again in remembrance.

She watched the screen with horror as the figure reached towards her and then paused, turning its head to the camera. The video went black.

"I don't know what happened to it from there, or what you did to the lights, but it doesn't matter as I was going to wipe…" Barbara trailed off at Sarah's white pallor.

"Sarah?"

"You… You saw it, right?" Sarah whispered, aware of how stupid her question must seem.

Barbara pursed her lips. "I saw that you weren't alone-"

Sarah mewed like a wounded animal.

"Wait… did…" Barbara studied Sarah's face. "Oh, my god, you didn't know…"

Sarah shook her head wordlessly and then found she couldn't stop shaking.

Barbara stilled her gently. "That doesn't make any sense. You had the only key. There was no one in the room when I brought you in there."

"Just books," Sarah whispered.

"Well, let's rewind further. There's an explanation somewhere." But when she pressed play again the tape showed only snow. She tried rewind and forward a few times. "Dammit, I must have hit something by accident!"

"You didn't do anything." Sarah said dully. She straightened, shouldering her bag. "I have to go, okay?"

"What? Wait," Barbara called, but Sarah was already striding out the door.

Barbara followed her and caught up to her by the stairs. "Sarah. We have to investigate," she whispered. "We have to report this. I still don't understand how this even happened."

"Report what? That you left me alone in a room I shouldn't have been in in the first place? That you had security tape and now it's blank? Forget it."

"Sarah," Barbara paused, "Are you certain you didn't let anyone in? You can tell me. Honestly I won't be mad. No harm done. I was young once too, you know…" She trailed off at the look on Sarah's face. "Okay. But we have to do something! If it wasn't you then there's a serious security issue. What if this happens to someone else?"

"It won't." Sarah began walking down the stairs. "I'll see you on Monday, okay?"

"Maybe it was just a trick of the light." Barbara chewed her lip. "It's an outdated system and there are hardly any lights in that room."

"Probably," Sarah called over her shoulder. Barbara nodded absently. Neither woman believed it.


When Toby opened the door, he was thrilled to see Sarah.

She ruffled his hair when she passed him.

"You look like crap."

"Thanks," Sarah mumbled. She eyed herself in the hall mirror and agreed. "Just came to eat all your leftover chicken balls."

Toby grinned. "Too late."

"Brat."

Robert poked his head from the landing. "Oh, Sarah. Hi, sweetie." He placed a finger over his lips. "Karen's down with Max." He eyed Toby. "Some of us didn't get much sleep last night."

Toby studied the floor.

"I'll keep it down. Just, uh, here to do some laundry."

Her dad nodded and headed back up stairs.

"You know they have places called Laundromats, right?"

"You know they have places called orphanages, right?" She poked Toby in the arm playfully. "It's where they send mouthy kids."

"Well you should have gotten rid of me when you had the chance. You don't live here anymore. So you have no power."

Sarah's grin faltered and she adjusted the basket on her hip to hide her expression.

Toby must have noticed because his face sobered too. "There's still some rice and stuff."

"I'm starving. I'll just put these in the wash." She headed to the basement stairs but then poked her head back up. "Got any superhero PJs you want me to throw in?" She waggled her brows.

Toby reddened. "Don't be surprised if a dirty diaper ends up in your wash!"

"Yours or Max's?" Sarah parried and then disappeared downstairs.

Toby scowled and then laughed. She was good. He felt a hundred times better with Sarah under the roof. Sarah was… just right. He loved his parents. He idolized his dad. He still needed his mom like all little boys do. But Sarah was somehow his. She made him feel safe.

He heard the washer kick on and moved into the kitchen to get the leftover Chinese. He was fixing her plate when she walked into the kitchen.

Sarah accepted it with a smile and popped it into the microwave. Toby snagged a bag of chips from the cupboard.

"So no work today?" he asked; mouth full.

"Not today. I'll get back at it tomorrow. Grab me the soya sauce, would you?"

Toby slid off the stool and then passed it over.

"What about you?"

Toby snorted. "Well I won't be watching the TV I'm not allowed to touch."

"That bad, huh?"

Toby shrugged and then fell silent. The chips forgotten beside him.

Sarah eyed the bag. "What's up? Just how bad was that movie?"

Toby fidgeted. "It wasn't just the movie. Not really. I don't know, I can't explain it."

Sarah swallowed another bite. "Try."

"Something… doesn't feel right. And then last night, when that stupid music started…"

Sarah stilled, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth. "Music?"

"Yah, your music. So it should really be you who can't watch Power Rangers."

"Toby, let's pretend for a moment that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your stupid music box started playing! It was in my closet for some reason." He glared at her accusingly. "If it was a joke, it was a dumb joke."

Sarah put her fork down. "What box, Toby?"

"The cheesy one with the girl. It's still in my room."

She gripped the edge of the table. "But I got rid of that thing when it wouldn't play anymore."

"Well it had no problem playing last night. Wait – what do you mean you got rid of it?"

"I mean I'm pretty sure it was thrown out years ago."

Toby's eyes widened. "Well it didn't. And it ended up in my closet."

Sarah pushed her half-finished plate away. "Of course it did."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Forget about it." She leaned back and then stood up. "I'm going to get it okay?"

Toby nodded and preceded her up the stairs.

Sarah noticed that his head darted up to look at the attic and then shot back down again.

She shot him a questioning glance but he shook his head.

"Here," he said, thrusting it into her hands.

Sarah held it lightly, examining it for a moment. She had loved it for a time. And then, like so many things, it had stopped working. She pretended not to remember when the music had stopped exactly, but she knew it to the day. She turned it over and cranked the tiny shaft.

Music started.

Then Max started crying.

Toby rolled his eyes. "Now he cries!"

She heard a groan. A few moments later Karen appeared in the doorway, Max on her shoulder.

"Oh, Sarah. You look about as good as me," she said, not unkindly. "Rough night?"

"Probably better than yours," Sarah lied.

Karen smiled again. "Oh, Toby. That reminds me, you need to start thinking about what you want to bring with you. You need to start packing soon."

Toby rolled his eyes. "I dunno. Do we have to go?"

Karen pursed her lips. "Yes. We. Do. She's your grandmother and she wants to see you."

"She wants to see Max."

"Toby…"

Sarah recognized the warning note. "Hey, sounds fun to me," she supplied.

Toby regarded her mutinously. "Yes, if 8 hours in a car with a baby is fun."

"But family trip. Hotel with a pool…"

Toby folded his arms. "You aren't going."

Karen eyed Sarah sympathetically. They had navigated these waters before. Karen's mother was technically a grandmother to Sarah too but it wasn't the same. Living so far away and Sarah so grown when they became a family, she had never built up a strong relationship with Sarah, though she had always been welcoming. That had once been a weapon in Sarah's arsenal during her early teenage years. Now Sarah was better able to understand the intricacies of a blended family. Toby wasn't there yet.

"Sarah is an adult and is very busy."

Sarah nodded. "Very true. Norse gods are demanding."

Toby rolled his eyes. "She's so busy she's here eating my leftovers. You could come if you really wanted to," he added seriously.

"It sounds great and I promise. Next time."

Sarah realized she might have broken that promise once before. Toby's expression told her she had.

"There's not really room with Max's car seat," Robert added helpfully. He'd come to stand beside Karen. "Next time we'll rent a van."

"Or take two cars and you can ride with me," Sarah nodded. "Stick the olds with chubs here." She tucked the music box under her arm and scooped Max from a grateful Karen. He immediately stuffed his fists full of her hair.

Karen mouthed a 'thank you' and shuffled back into her room. Robert ruffled Toby's hair and followed her.

Sarah wandered back downstairs, making faces at Max on the way down.

Toby remained in his doorway, staring after them with an inscrutable expression.


Later that night, Toby sat on his bed with his hands clasped loosely and listened to the muffled sounds of his parents putting Max to sleep. Sarah had left a few hours earlier with her clean laundry and the music box.

Right before she'd left he'd asked her if she'd been like that with him when he was a baby. Like she was with Max. She'd paused mid bounce, Max giggling.

Not at first, she'd admitted. But later, yes. Toby had pressed her for more, but she'd said she had to go. Promised to come again soon. And that she wouldn't eat any leftovers next time.

She'd kissed Max a dozen times at the door. She'd hugged Toby once.

Toby frowned and unclasped his hands, looking around his room. Her room. His eyes lit upon the tiny slip of paper still on his nightstand.

All you have to do is wish…


Sarah drove home, with the radio playing loudly. Anything to drown out her thoughts. Nevertheless, she was aware of the music box on the seat beside her. Part of her wanted to just get rid of it, but mostly she wanted it far away from Toby.

Some memories have teeth, she thought. And oh how they'd slid into her.

everything is dancing…

Going home had been an attempt to escape; a last chance to deny and to forget. But ten years of nothing could dissolve in an instant.

Her sanity felt shredded and her reason raw. She'd heard grad students sometimes went crazy. She felt crazy. She was crazy to be bringing that thing home with her. She stopped at the red light.

he'll come calling…

you will lose something precious…


Elsewhere lips parted in a smile, teeth glinting. "Soon."


Please R&R

AN: Not technically a cliff-hanger, right? Happy Wednesday! Pour yourself a celebratory glass of wine. I did.

Many thanks for all of the lovely reviews and all of the faves so soon. Fantastic to hear from some of you again, and a warm welcome to new readers.

True story: Attic ceiling hatches are terrifying. And the bogey man does live in the furnace.

…Stay tuned. I can neither confirm nor deny that someone makes a grand entrance next chapter…

Notes:

I think you all know where the line "everything is dancing" comes from.