One persons struggle against an immense beast
‘The Monster under the bed’
Word count 743
This game was on!
I knew it was under there I had caught a brief glimpse of its misshapen hairy bulk out of the corner of my eye. I had turned but too late, it had gone
I swear it had got big tattoos and an ear ring. I would have it though, no more would I be terrorised in my own room. All I had to do was wait. Just wait.
I was in the zone, I was fuming, I was mad, and I was scared. My adrenalin was coursing round my body, I was most definitely in fight or flight mode and I was determined to win.
I had done battle with one of its kind before. That time I had been in the woods with my friend, when I had watched one try to slowly sneak up on my friend. It did not sneak long. Boy was that battle something to behold. I was like something out of Greek mythology. I fought with a frenzy drawn from desperation and fear.
I had brandished my weapon like a hero of old, tactics thrown to the wind, it had been a pure fight to the death. I had been victorious obviously, but at what a cost.
We had been sitting in camp when it had struck. It, like the one I was now waiting for had been sneaky, trying to slip in and attack my friend without being seen.
Unfortunately for the beast I was like a ninja! On the edge of readiness at all times, always alert to the threat of invasion or attack. That day had been no different. The beast had lunged for my friend’s bare arm, before it could get hold of him I had retaliated with the only thing I had got available at the time. My camp mug.
Well it had been a close thing you know, he lunged, I had parried, he had tried then to get behind us, I had kicked out at it narrowly missing my friend, and kicking the pan resting at the edge of the fire pit we had dug, our dinner in the form of sausages cooking slowly in the edge of the fire tipped up. The sausages went into the flames and blackened and burnt, the fat from the pan catching fire and throwing a flame high up into air in a flash of yellow and orange crackling heat. The heat and flame had seared my eyebrows from my face. My friend had run screaming from the camp site, but not me, I was taking this bastard out.
I had won of course the final blow dealt by a large stick I had found, how it had gotten into my hand I could never recall. I do recall screaming like a Viking warrior berserker at the top of my lungs beating on the head and body of the beast. I had only stopped when my friend had creapt up behind me to calm me down, and try to salvage dinner.
Anyway, that had been last year like I said.
The beast I was waiting for now was even bigger than the titan I had waged war against that day.
This was a foul, vile abomination of immense proportions compared to the other one. I was sitting on my bed, my weapon of choice in my hand, as soon as this putrid pile of pig shite showed itself I was going straight for the kill. I thought about the brief glimpse I had gotten before it had dragged its bulk under the bed into its brief haven of peace.
I knew it wanted me, wanting to feast on my flesh as I lay sleeping. Its touch light, its bite death, its very presence a blight upon the world. Its presence and that of all of its kind.
Wait what was that? Did I just see movement? YES!! It had finally decided to come out and face my wrath, I waited, and I waited as it cautiously made its way out from under my bed......... and then, I made a massive swing with all my might. I hit it, boy did I hit it. I had done it! I had vanquished the beast, the demon, the spawn of the dark lord himself. That was one spider who would not terrorise me again!
However I now looked at my weapon, how was I going to explain my broken tennis racket to my mom?