The Green-black eyes

Horror, Inc Presents: The Daily Slice

NEW PROMPT: Tell me a horror story under 1000 words about the monster under the bed or in the closet.

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The Green-black eyes

The child was finally sleeping. She could see his pajama shirt, even in the dim light of dusk, as it rose and fell easily with each breath.  She leaned forward to stroke his forehead, relieved that his screams were replaced with peaceful slumber.

He was her child, the remnants of a bad marriage, the love of her life, her son. She moved from the sacred rocking chair where she promised to keep a strong vigil throughout the night, least that hideous monster living under her son’s bed returns. She stretched her legs as she moved to the window. She had to smile at her little man. His imagination was powerful. Maybe, he’s to be a writer, a director; maybe even an artist as she aspired to be.

“It had green-black eyes,” the boy sobbed earlier in the evening, “and claws instead of fingers. It tried to pull me under the bed.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, sleeping now, protected by her love.

The divorce must have been harder on him than she had realized. He never had nightmares before this.

From her vantage point at the window she could see her neighbor across the street, Mr. Pith taking down his garbage cans. Just yesterday she had attended his yard sale and purchased the bed for her son. It was a car bed, complete with car sheets and blankets. Mr. Pith had even carried it across the street, piece by piece and set it up for her and the boy.  Nice man, she mumbled, making her way back to her chair. Had she remained at the window a moment longer she would have seen the man, her neighbor, Mr. Pith, as he glanced at the window, a pitiful look of concern on his face. Had she remained at the window to witness that, she might have question what the concern regarded.

The boy in the car bed drew her attention with a slight moan. She stroked his forehead again lulling him back to sleep.

She pushed her shoes off by using the other foot to apply force to the heel. One went under the bed. She stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes. The shoe under the bed moved. It was slight and noiseless, but it moved.

She wanted coffee. She left his room-door open so the hall lights could flood in. It will just take a moment to make, a nice hot cup of coffee to fill her lonely night watch.

The water was processing through the coffee maker as Mr. Pith gently knocked on the back-door. It startled her, but she had to smile when she saw his thick, black glasses peering at her from the other side.

“Mr. Pith, come in,” she stepped back and offered him a clear entrance to her kitchen.

“No, no,” he remained on the stoop. “I saw your light and just wanted to check to see if everything was all right.”

“Yes, of course, it is, well, Mathew had a bit of a nightmare tonight,” she grinned at him, as though to share a secret knowledge of little boys and their dreams. “I’m on monster watch tonight.”

“A nightmare you say?” The man appeared nervous. He shifted from one leg to the other as though he were in a war of nerves within himself. It appeared he was going to run, no, he’s staying, ah..movement again, perhaps he’s going to run.

It was odd, and even though she didn’t know the man really, he had merely carried over a bed; the behavior was making her edgy. She needed to get back to Mathew anyway.

“Is the boy prone to nightmares?”

“Why, no, this is the first one I can remember.”

“Is he sleeping in the new bed?”

“Yes, of course, he is…Mr. Pith, why do I have a feeling that something is wrong?”

At that moment a scream pierced the house. She turned toward his room, running as fast as she could. She bumped the corner leaving the kitchen, but kept running. She found him lying on the floor, screaming, fighting against something under the bed. She grabbed his feet and pulled him back into her arms.

“Mathew, I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve got you,” she tried to soothe the boy.

It was not until she carried him to the living room couch did his screams subside. Mr. Pith was there, wringing his hands and stepping from one to the other.

“Is the boy, all right?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine,” she was checking him over. Her hands moving across his head and down his back in a effort to find any mark, cut or bruise. “He’s fine.” She scooped him up in her arms, wrapping him as tight as she could, “It’s okay sweetie; it was just a bad dream.”

“Are you sure of that?” Mr. Pith asked. His question was barely audible. “You seem like nice folks,” his voice broke off. He was heading for the back door. “I didn’t know it would follow with the bed…” he was out the door and she could not hear the rest.

She peered down the hallway at the doorway leading into her son’s dark bedroom. Didn’t know what would follow with the bed? She soothed the boy into covering up on the couch and flicked on the TV for him. She made her way to the bedroom and into the room, next to the car bed. She bent down and peered under the frame-work. She saw her shoe. Nothing else looked out of place or suspicious so she reached for it. The shoe moved away.

Believing she had tipped the shoe and moved it herself, she went closer to the edge of the frame-work and reached as far as she could for the shoe.

It wrapped around her wrist in a furious hold of power. Claws dug into her skin. She screamed as it sucked her under and she met the green-black eyes of a nightmare.