When I was a kid, my parents told me about the boogeyman.

I'm sure your parents did too. It was a nice little story to make sure we stay tucked in our beds, behaving like the good children they thought we were. I remember my parents told me the boogeyman steals away kids who misbehave and don't do as they're told. As long as I listen to them, as long as I stay in my bed, then I'll be ok when morning comes.

Of course, they never say what the boogeyman looks like. They tell you this story, then they shut off the lights, and your imagination does the rest. You start seeing shapes in the darkness around you, hear the smallest noises you normally wouldn't pay attention to, and your heart feels like it'll burst out of its chest. You start to believe he's in the room with you. Maybe, if you shut your eyes, he won't see you. If you cocoon your body in your sheets, he can't take you. You stay like this, a cold sweat running down your head, until you open your eyes again and the sun is peeking through your blinds.

It's funny what you'll believe when you're a kid. The boogeyman feels so real when you're young. That fear of the unknown grips you and makes him real. But then the age comes when you realize these stories of creatures stalking the darkness are just that. Stories. You grow up. The dark doesn't seem as scary anymore. So you go out and cause trouble like your parents warned you not to do; warnings aren't exactly effective if the monster isn't real.

That night I went out and caused a little trouble. I'll admit, despite being a young man at that point, some of the stories may have stuck with me. So I brought a friend along. One I knew was less scared than I was, who had a history of trouble. Nothing that ever meant serious jail time, just some fun that would make more than a few parents disappointed. Drinking, smoking, theft, nothing that would hurt anyone

But that night was different. It… it was supposed to be some dumb fun. And he promised! He promised me no one would get hurt. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Nobody…

That night, we did something. Something bad. And I saw him.

I saw the boogeyman.

I gently pushed the door to the liquor store open, a bell hanging above it rang as I did so and heralded our entrance. As I stepped in the store I looked to my left and crossed eyes with the store clerk standing behind the counter. He regarded me for a moment, his stern face made me pause halfway into the room. I couldn't tell if that was how he normally looked, or he knew I wasn't old enough to be in there. For a brief second we stood like this, until my friend Tommy pushed past me and forced me inside.

Casually he waved to the man with a small smile, which garnered him a slight nod in return, before turning to face me with pursed lips and a fierce stare. I could only look away and follow behind him as he led me far away from the man running the place.

By this point we had already hit a couple stores. Our haul mainly consisted of candy bars, chips, and sodas. Anything we could fit into our coats without looking too conspicuous. But here we planned on coming out with a bigger score. No more of that kiddy shit, as he put it.

When he stopped, having taken us to the back corner of the store, he looked behind to see if we were hidden and I couldn't help but do the same. From where we stood the shelves of liquor provided perfect cover for the two of us, the man at the counter was completely out of sight. I turned back to catch the devious smile Tommy wore before he looked at the freezer in front of us.

The goal, as he told me, was simple: we each sneak out a single case-worth of beer. At first I objected, we were already carrying handfuls of other goodies under our clothes, there was no need for this small heist. Besides that, there was no way we could get away with carrying such precious cargo without being found out. But he was insistent, pointing out how many stores we robbed and how he himself took some cigarettes from behind the counter of the last store without the attendant noticing. He failed to mention the part where I distracted said attendant.

Eventually, he told me in a hushed voice, "Look, if we do get caught, nothing bad's gonna happen. We're kids! They'll just tell us to put everything back and lecture us about responsibility or some bullshit. Then they'll let us go."

I was still uncertain, but in the moment I nodded to go ahead with his plan. He did make a lot of convincing arguments, and the reassurance of not going to prison helped. After all, he was more experienced in this area, so I had no reason not to believe him. Besides that, he added onto his assurances by stating this would be the last store; then we could go home and indulge in our spoils.

The suction pop of the freezer door opening brought me back to the present, and I saw Tommy swiftly reach in and grab two random brands of beer cases. They were the standard six-pack of glass bottles, and after retrieving them he placed them down on the floor as the freezer slowly swung shut. Kneeling down, he grabbed one bottle after another and stuffed them into his zipped-up coat. I watched, noticing a clear bulge form with each added bottle, and once again doubt crawled into my mind. That clerk saw us, he clearly looked at us. There was no way he wasn't going to notice the obvious change in our body shape.

Tommy paused his movements and looked up at me. The worry must have been evident on my face because he handed me the bottle in his hand and nodded. A silent gesture that we were too far in now, and he wasn't going to let me back out. I swallowed hard, cursing myself for allowing him to convince me to this, then I took the bottle from him. I slowly, and carefully, slid it down my coat, feeling its cool surface glide along my chest until it hit the chips and candy that lined the bottom. Satisfied with my compliance, he resumed filling his coat with the remaining bottles from his pack while I begrudgingly joined him.

After what felt like hours, the cases were empty, and we were each laden with equal amounts of alcohol. I looked at myself, feeling the cold lumps of glass press up against my chest and clinking with every slight movement. There was no way we were going to walk out of here, it was too obvious.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tommy standing back up, glasses clinking as he did so. His hands were in his pockets, subtly holding the load to prevent them from dropping, and he shifted around side to side. I watched him for a moment, my heart rate accelerating as the glasses knocked together audibly. I was almost certain the man was going to come and see what we were doing. But after a while of this no one came, and he stopped when the bottles weren't knocking into each other as loudly. At the same time I noticed his coat sat more evenly around him, and that's when I realized what he did.

So, standing up myself, I repeated his movements. Hands in pockets, shift side to side, feel the bottles moving around until they all press against me in a line. Just like that, my coat was also even, and the two of us were as inconspicuous as we were when we first came in. Now all we had to do was leave.

Which was easier said than done, as Tommy took the lead with his first step the bottles smacked together. He grimaced, then straightened his back and took another, slower step forward. No noise this time. He took another step, this time at a more natural walking speed. Still no noise. I immediately caught on and once again copied him, standing straight up and walking as stiff as a mummy in a cheap rented movie.

Down the aisle we went, trying our best to make our unnatural gait look as natural as possible. When we reached the end, I almost couldn't believe our luck. The man at the counter had his backs turned to us, preoccupied with the alcohol on the shelves behind him. We were going to make it out after all!

My hopes were high as we rounded the corner and headed for the door. But just as soon as they were raised, they were immediately dashed. As if time itself slowed down, I saw the clerk turn back around and look directly at me as he did so. When I saw his eyes meet mine I couldn't help it. I froze. A small jerk that forced my body to stop, and was just enough to jostle my cargo. An audible clink that caused a bottle to slip from between my stiff hands and out the bottom of my coat. It hit the floor with a crash, a couple candy bars cascading down with it to the growing puddle below.

Busted.

The man's eyes widened, and I looked to Tommy mere inches away from the door to receive a similar shocked reaction. Then, just as suddenly as my little accident, a metal gate crashed down between us and the door and locked us inside. The noise startled me and I looked back at the attendant, feeling nauseous as the situation spiraled out of our control. This time his face was angrier, adding to my growing feeling of sickness, and he was leaning over the counter with one hand on the nearby phone. The implication of his stance was obvious.

"Fuck!" I heard Tommy shout, slamming into the gate with his shoulder. Realizing as I did that we were trapped he turned and addressed our captor, "Hey man, let us out!"

Such a plea fell on deaf ears, not that that surprised me, and the man retorted with a snort, "You want me to let you punks walk after you tried to rob me? How about this, I'll let you out when the cops get here. Should take about 5-10 minutes after I call them, so make yourselves comfortable."

My heart beat faster. Jail? If the cops are called on us they'll see everything we stole. We won't get attempted robbery, just straight-up robbery. And at our age that means real jail-time. Fuck. Fuck! I have to do something, convince him to let us walk. Maybe if we hand over everything we took, would it be enough?

"Hey-" I stuttered the word out softly, but was quickly cut off by Tommy before I could attempt our apology.

"Fuck that! You're gonna let us out man, or else." His words came out as a low growl, a clear threat that I never heard out of him before. Despite his hands still being contained within his pockets, the twisted snarl on his face and hunched stance made him look like a cornered animal. Fitting considering the situation we were in.

Of course, while I was scared by his change in demeanor, the older man wasn't as impressed. Guffawing, he unhooked the phone and put it to his ear, "And what are you gonna do pipsqueak? Cuss at me some more? Go ahead, I deal with drunks that are more of a hassle than you two."

My eyes darted over only to hear his response, and when they flitted back over to Tommy I could see he didn't take the jeer well. His eyebrows arched into a glare, then he removed his hands from his pockets and let everything fall out from his coat. Alcohol smashed on the floor one after another, candy and chips dispensing themselves like he was a malfunctioning vending machine.

It was now the other man's turn to be angry. "Oh you little shit!" He exclaimed, once again getting my attention, and pressing the keypad with three sharp jabs of his finger, "I cannot fucking wait until the cops get here, I hope they throw the book at ya. Maybe a couple years in the pen will straighten you brats out. Fucking unbelievable."

It was then that I heard a soft click from my left, one that made the man perk up. In an instant I saw his face blanch white, and I slowly looked back at Tommy. What I saw made the color drain from my face in a similar fashion.

It was a gun. A simple pistol, the kind you'd see robbers use in a movie. Except this was real, and it was currently in Tommy's hand. He pointed it at the man with malicious intent, and at that moment we could hear the operator pick up on the other line.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"Put the phone down," Tommy said in a harsh whisper, making sure the phone couldn't pick it up. The clerk swallowed hard, but he did what he was demanded, gently putting the phone down until it clicked back on its holder.

"So now what kid?" The man asked, his breath shaky. "You gonna shoot me over some beer?"

"We just want to leave man. Just let us go and nothing bad will happen to you."

This was insane. We've been together for years and I'd never known him to do something like this. The person talking right now wasn't my friend, I could barely recognize him. Because of him our charge of robbery just escalated to a whole slew of charges involving use of a deadly weapon. We would never see the light of day again if the cops caught up with us!

All these thoughts pounded in my head like a bad migraine. I brought him along so we could score some free food, not threaten a man's life! We could have talked our way out, I know we could have. Instead Tommy pulled out a gun, a gun I didn't even know he had, and the thought of that stupidity, that recklessness, urged me to confront him against my better judgment.

"Dude! What the fuck are you doing?"

He glanced over my way before training his sights back on the store worker, "What's it look like? I haven't done time yet, and I don't plan to now. So I'm making sure we get out of here."

He said it as if it completely justified his actions, but I wasn't having it, "Are you insane?! We could've just given him the stuff back, we'll be lucky to get out now!"

"And you could've not fumbled the fucking alcohol Dan! We would've been long gone by now but you had to fuck it up for both of us. I'm just fixing your mistake."

Like hell you were, you're just digging us into a deeper pit. At this point, I couldn't care less about going to jail. I don't want another person's death on my conscience.

I extend my hand out towards him, "Give me the gun Tommy." I made sure my words were slow and deliberate so he wouldn't second-guess my meaning.

He scoffed, "Go fuck yourself Dan."

His words furthered my resolve. Without hesitation, I took a step forward, exclaiming "Give me the gun!" Then I threw myself at him, the bottles I held went flying as I did so, and grabbed the pistol with both hands and pulled it away from its target.

We grappled for a moment, both of us focused on taking control over the weapon. He would pull it towards him, and I would pull it towards me. When using his brute strength didn't seem to work for him, Tommy started kicking my leg to make me falter. Instead I kicked back, forcing him to buckle as my foot connected with the back of his knee. Now with the advantage, I put all my force into pulling the gun out of his hands.

He must've had a better grip than I initially thought however, because all I succeeded in doing was bringing him back to his feet. And to thank me for this, he pulled his arm across then threw an elbow back into my face. It connected with a solid crunch and I could feel blood flow out of my now-broken nose. Crying out I released the pistol from my grasp, and he thanked me once again by swinging the side of the hard metal into my face.

It sent me stumbling into the end of the aisle behind me, my back connecting with the alcohol on display and sending more of the amber liquid cascading down and smashing onto the floor. Although I was dazed, I forced myself to keep my eyes open to see what attack Tommy would throw at me next. He glared at me, gun raised into the air ready to strike me again. But he hesitated, and I saw his eyes widen before he turned to look at the counter behind him.

I followed his gaze. Despite our brief entanglement the man was still back there, he didn't make any attempts to leave. He was hunched over, frozen, and his eyes were on us while clearly reaching under for something we couldn't see. But we both knew there was only one thing it could possibly be.

My head whipped over to Tommy, seeing too late that he was pointing the gun at the man with his finger on the trigger. Before I could even think about stopping him, the room exploded with a shout of metal fury and a flash of lightning. One moment the man looked at us from behind the safety of his counter, and the next he was thrown into the wall behind him with a crash. I didn't even see the bullet get fired from the gun, but I saw where it hit him. A perfect circle that sat in the middle of his forehead; a period signifying the end of his life. What was left of him slid down and fell to the ground; an acrid stench from the gun filtered into my nostrils that I'll never forget as long as I'll live.

As the ringing subsided from my ears I could see Tommy was just as numbed as I was, the gun trembling at the realization of what he just did. My breathing caught and grew shallow. He's dead. That man is dead. And we killed him.

"Tommy… what did you do," my voice came out in little more than a whisper.

"He… he was reaching for a gun Dan. You saw it. I had no choice." There was no conviction in his words this time. Just the same shock I was feeling.

I refused to believe that. He had several choices that could have avoided this outcome. We had several choices. But in the end, what's done is done. Someone would have heard the shot, made another call to the police. They'll be here soon if they aren't already on their way. Then the lives we knew will end, much like the man now hidden from view. A single blessing in this night of horror.

But even this was stripped from me, as I saw my friend turn the gun on me. My heartrate spiked, "What the hell are you doing?" I asked with wide, fearful eyes, reflecting the expression Tommy gave me.

A single tear drew a line down his face, "I told you, I just want to leave. Go back there and look for the button to open the gate."

I looked over at the counter, noticing the small spray of blood which coated the display behind where he was kneeling. I didn't want to go back there. I didn't want to see the body again. It was still fresh in my mind. The life fading from his eyes, the hole that burrowed deep into his skull, the way his limbs went limp as his body crumpled. I couldn't see that again. And fortunately I wouldn't have to.

Before I could give him my response the lights in the store all shut off at once. At first I believed it was some sort of freak outage, but the flashing of the neon signs outside told me this wasn't the case. Something, or someone, knocked out power to this building alone. The thought of us not being alone here freaked me out more, and it seemed I wasn't the only one.

"H-hey, what happened? Who turned off the lights?!" Tommy was getting agitated, his already frayed nerves coming more undone at the sudden absence of illumination.

Through the flashing lights I could see he wasn't focused on me anymore; rather than try to risk my life and fight him again, I looked around for some other way out. I tried to heighten my senses, straining my eyes into the dark to look for something to provide me a means of escape. But as I looked, rather than find something, I heard something. A loud footstep coming from my right. Then another. And another.

Turning, I saw Tommy peering into the darkness and I followed his gaze. A hallway whose interior was shrouded in shadow, to the point where I almost believed it was empty. Empty, if it weren't for the heavy gait emanating from it. Neither of us could see who or what it belonged to though, and since we were locked in all we could do was wait to see who would emerge.

Well, that was all I could do. As for Tommy, I could see he had raised the pistol again and was aiming it straight at the hallway. When he did, the sound of footsteps ceased. I could hear Tommy let out a nervous breath while mine was still caught in my throat. A few seconds passed in this uneasy silence, my body tensing as I anticipated another shot to be fired from the gun.

But that shot never came. Instead, I heard a whistle in the dark growing closer and faster to us. I could barely see whatever it was quickly cut through the air until it found its target, hitting something with a sickening thunk. This was followed by Tommy's screams and the gun clattering to the floor.

I faced my friend once again, finding him clutching his hand in the dim glow. This time I got a better look at the object that flew at us. He was clutching a shaking hand, a sharp black metal object firmly lodged in it. Blood trickled between his fingers and dripped below him, getting lost in the red of neon. Once again I felt sick.

Then, just as suddenly as my friend had been stabbed, a shot rang out from that same darkness and my friend fell to the floor. At first I believed he was dead, until he raised his head in a sort of daze, looking at me with a confused and scared expression. Just as soon as our eyes met he was propelled back, as if some force was pulling him into the abyss of the hallway. All I could do was watch in terror. Watch as my friend was dragged screaming and clawing into the darkness. When he disappeared from sight his raucous screams carried on, until they too ceased and I was once again left in silence.

My whole body was trembling. It all happened so fast, I didn't even see what took him. But I knew that whatever it was was coming for me next. Despite my current fears and my past apprehension I had to defend myself. This time there truly was no choice.

My eyes darted to the floor, finding the gun next to the small pool of blood that came from Tommy's hand. As fast as I could I stumbled and fell to the ground, my hands grasping at the weapon until they firmly squeezed around the handle. Then, just as quickly, I stood back up and pointed it back in the direction I last saw Tommy. But this time, instead of the gloom of that hallway, I found myself staring at a beast. A black demon that towered over me with a malicious glare.

I could feel my heart crawl up my throat, I didn't even hear it get close to me. But now that it was here I was frozen stiff in fear. It looked almost like a man, but some features were off. It had no mouth, its ears extended up in points and practically touched the ceiling, and the way it looked at me, a steely glare with no pupils, haunted me. A veil of black extended out behind it and further obscured my sight. I had no doubts Tommy was behind there, but I was thankful I couldn't see him. If this creature got its hands on him there was definitely less of him left than the man he killed.

I jumped when the creature took a step towards me, its foot hitting the ground in that familiar solid thump. This was enough to shake some nerves out of me, and I slipped a finger over the trigger. I had no idea if the pistol would be enough to kill it, and I honestly didn't want to find out. But I also didn't want to die, and in that moment fight overtook flight, and I began to squeeze the trigger.

"Fire that gun," the creature somehow managed to bark at me, "and I'll take you in too."

Take me? Suddenly my body was tense again, hands shaking just enough to allow the gun to fall back to the floor. With my eyes wide and my breath haggard I finally realized what it was. Who it was.

The fight was sapped out of me, and all I could do was fall to the ground and tuck into myself, hoping that in doing so it won't be able to get me. I close my eyes, hoping he won't be able to see me anymore despite all rational reasoning. Despite feeling its icy stare on my body, I ignored it. I ignored everything around me, believing childishly that it would all disappear as a result. The nightmare would end, and I would wake up in my bed far away from here.

I stayed in this cocooned state for what seemed like hours. After not waking up in my bed like I hoped I would, I forced a single eye open to peer at my surroundings. Empty. The store was empty. The demon was gone, and there was no sign of Tommy. Hesitantly I pushed myself off the floor, making absolutely sure the room was as vacant as I believed it was. I listened, as hard as I could, for even the slightest noise. Any hint that creature was present. But there was nothing.

I let out a breath I had been holding and sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to calm myself down. But it seemed I wouldn't have time for that, as I picked up a new noise from outside. Police sirens.

Looking towards the window I couldn't see any flashing lights, so they were still a ways away, but I knew they were coming here. At the same time I noticed a certain change about the front of the store. The metal gate was lifted. I was free to leave. In that moment I didn't stop to think how it was lifted, nor if the demon was somehow involved in its removal, I just stumbled towards the door with my hands outstretched. Once I pushed open the doors to the dirty and dank stench of the city outside, I turned on my heel and ran along the sidewalk in the opposite direction of those sirens.

I ran until the noise of the sirens faded into the sounds of the city surrounding me, and then I kept running. Not for fear of the police, but of the thing that confronted me. For all I know it was chasing me as I darted away from the scene of the crime. Every shadow I passed was holding it somewhere within, waiting to strike. I told myself I wouldn't be safe until I was back in my own home.

And even then I wasn't sure.

I couldn't sleep that night, or the first few nights after that. Every time I shut the lights off I expected him to be there, waiting for me just in the corners of my vision. Bloodshot eyes would scan the room thoroughly for his presence, and find nothing. But I knew deep down he was there. His low harsh voice stuck with me, a warning that should I ever do what I did that night again he would come for me. Take me away and I would never be seen again. Just like Tommy.

I never did find out what happened to him since that night, my family moved to a different city soon after and I never told them about what happened. When I finally could sleep I endured the nightmares alone, and I never forgot. It's funny what you'll believe as a kid. That at a certain age you truly grow up and become a man. You're too old for scary stories. Too old for the boogeyman.

All I can say is… keep telling yourself that. You go out and think you're untouchable, that you can do whatever you want without consequence. Steal what you want and kill whoever you want. But just know, he's out there, waiting for you. Watching every move you make. And when you do eventually slip up, you won't know until it's too late. Because the truth is, the boogeyman is real.

And he'll take you too.