I remember as a kid, I used to see this thing in the dark. It would always be when there wasn’t a strong source of light, and it would only appear whenever I was alone.
It would stand at the edge of my bed as I slept, just staring at me. It had pitch black, leathery looking skin stretched taut over its slightly inhuman bone structure, and coppery eyes that had whites too white. They bore into my soul every time I saw it. It stood at about ten feet, hunched over to almost half its height.
It would often just stand there, staring at me and never blinking. Sometimes it would slowly be reaching for my ankle, but it never actually touched me. I always felt frozen, just staring at it until I decided to close my eyes. It would disappear then.
That’s why I always blamed it on my paranoia. I thought it was just my mind placing something to be scared of in the dark.
Oh, I was wrong.
So very, very wrong.
Just last night I saw it again, standing at the foot of my bed. It stood there for a second before slowly moving onto the bed. I could feel the bed giving under its weight, and the springs creaking from the movement. I was too scared to move though. It was that same feeling of helplessness I had when I was a kid and I saw it.
It creeped up the bed to crouch right next to my chest, running its clawed hand up my chest before digging them in and scratching deep gashes into my skin.
I screamed. I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow. It ran off when I did that. I’m not sure if it was because of the loud noise or because of the fear that someone else would see it, but I’m never taking any chances of seeing it again.
Now I sleep with a nightlight.