Your Monster Returns

When you were little, you could swear there was a monster under your bed–but no one believed you. On the eve of your 30th birthday, you hear noises coming from under your bed once again. The monster is back and has an important message to deliver to you.

Post your response (500 words or less) in the comments below.

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11 thoughts on “Your Monster Returns

  1. Amyithist

    The Sedan pulled up to the curb of my house. Grant stopped the car and turned the engine off. Silence filled the cab and I felt a tingle of discomfort crawl up my spine. I hated first dates. I hated them even more on my birthday. And I hated them even more when I’d only been divorced for three months. I glanced over at Grant and forced a smile. “Thanks for tonight,” I offered.
    He looked back at me with a slight vacancy. “It wasn’t really that great of a night, was it?”
    I smiled and shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” I laughed. He didn’t return the chuckle and I felt even more uncomfortable. “It’s really not your fault,” I admitted. “I just…I just haven’t really been myself in a while and tonight wasn’t a good night for me.”
    He nodded and looked back at his steering wheel. He fingered the stiching on the wheel for a moment before motioning toward the house. “Looks like you’re all alone tonight, huh?”
    The comment made my stomach clench and I thought quickly before I responded: “No, my roommate is probably upstairs with her boyfriend. Lucky me.”
    We said a few more words, made an empty promise to keep in touch, and I climbed out into the warm spring evening. I didn’t look back as I climbed up the stairs to my wraparound porch. I opened the door and nearly threw myself inside, leaning against the heay oak wood, thankful that the horrible night was finally over.
    As I walked upstairs, I vowed to myself that I wasn’t going to date. Ever. Again. I sighed heavily. I changed into my pajamas and climbed into my bed, pulling my blankets up to my chin. The night had been so tettible, I couldn’t imagine that it could possibly get worse…but it was about to…
    After about an hour and a half of a deep sleep, I woke to find that my room had changed. The closet was open and just beyond the gaping black mouth, was a glowing, red light. Steam seemed to billow amid the amber rays and I immediately felt my heart pick up pace. A familiar sound suddenly screeched through the night. I knew that sound. I hadn’t heard it in nearly two decades and yet I recognized it immediately.
    I felt sick as I sat upright. My pulse began to tear through my body. I swallowed as I climbed out from beneath the heavy layers of blankets. The chill of the early spring night bit into me as I began to walk toward the closet. The steam slapped at my skin and I noticed that the heat from it was singing my skin; and that scared me. I had always been told that the horrible night terrors I suffered through as a child were dreams… but they had always felt so real… and left me real with real scars…
    I stepped further into the red steam. Suddenly the hardwood floors gave way to cold, steel grates. I had somehow entered a basement or broiler room of sorts. The dank smell cloyed at my nostrils as I stepped onto a narrow platform overlooking a dingy, dirty room. Suddenly, the screeching noise tore through the air and I felt my knees threatening to buckle. “Who’s there,” I screamed.
    At first there wasn’t a response. I closed my eyes as the red steam bursts all around me, hissing and engulfing me. As the steam disipated, I saw him standing in the middle of the room, his left hand baring the terrifying knives. I screamed and turned to run, but as I spun around, he was suddenly there; inches away from me.
    I gripped the railing, steeling myself as Freddy approached me. He’d taunted me all of my childhood life…why was he back now? Tonight of all nights? I swallowed and watched, waiting for him to end me. After a few moments, I opened my eyes, stunned to find myself back in my bedroom. I was standing in the middle of the room. My pajamas were soaked with what I could only assume was sweat. I ran my hands through my hair and took a deep breath. I hadn’t dreamt of Freddy since I was a little girl. Having him back like this was surreal and uncomfortable.
    I pushed the thoughts from my mind as I sauntered down the hallway and into my bathroom. I splashed my face with cool water and took another deep breath. I opened my medicine cabinet and pulled my bottle of anti-anxiety medication out, studying it for a while. I opted to ride this panic attack out and set the bottle back on the shelf, closing the cabinet. As the door swung shut and the mirror glinted back at me, I startled to see Grant standing behind me, his face stoney and dark.
    I screamed and turned, expecting it to be another dream; but the man was real. He suddenly lashed out, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me back. He drug me to the bedroom and threw me on the bed. It was at that moment that I noticed the knife glinting in the shards of moonlight slipping through the cracks of my wooden blinds. My heart stalled and I felt my mind beginning to whir. “Grant,” I choked, “what are you doing here?”
    He didn’t answer me as he started to approach, holding the knife firmly in his right hand. “Please,” I whimpered. “Please, don’t hurt me!”
    He remained quiet as he approached the side of my bed. He stared down at me for a long moment. Just as he was about to assault me, the screaching sound tore through the night air again. It was so intense that I had to cover my ears. Grant looked around, his eyes wide and frustrated.
    Suddenly, the red steam began to billow from the closet. Terrified, I jumped up to the head of my bed and scrambled under the blankets. I heard the struggle ensue; a grunt, a gargle, a horrible ripping sound followed by a sickening thud. Then it was quiet.
    After a few moments, I slid the blanket from my body and peered up at Freddy. He didn’t say anything to me. He just stared at me for a moment before turning and disappearing back into the red steam…

    I screamed as I sat upright, gripping my sweaty sheets. I looked over at the clock glaring back at me from the nightstand. 12:01. My birthday was over. Thank God. What a strange dream, I thought, pulling the blankets from my body. As my feet touched the floor, I noticed that something wet and sticky had pooled over the hardwood. Confused, I clicked the light on and looked down. It looked like blood! I stood quickly and walked around the corner of my bed. I gasped. There, laying at the foot of my bed, slashed wide open…was Grant.

  2. Amyithist

    I am frozen in fear as the familiar scratch and claw noises rip through the still air. My heart begins to thump against my chest as I lay in the dark, gripping my blanket over my head. I find myself foolishly wishing for my trusted Rainbow Sparkles doll. She always managed to chase the dark away…
    The sounds become more urgent and I’m terrified as the bed begins to tremble with movement. Suddenly, I hear a CLOP, pull, CLOP, drag, CLOP, pull, CLOP, drag scrape across the floor. The source of the sound carries great heft. From beneath the thin sheet, I can see the silhouette lining itself against the pitch black of my room. My mind whirs with panic and fear. GET OUT, I scream inside of my head. GET OUT NOW!
    The massive girth of this monster provokes the most primal fear inside of me and I can’t hold myself down any more. I bolt upright and tear across the bed. I stumble out of the room and into the hallway. I’m halfway down when another figure comes into focus. It’s nowhere near as big as the monster still looming in the shadows behind me, but it’s distinctly human.
    Confused, I hesitate. Who is this? Suddenly, the figure lunges at me and I can see the glint of the blade of a knife as it catches the moonlight slipping in through the hallway window. I have no choice but to turn back to room and run as hard as I can. The mass is still standing there and I feel a dread welling inside of me that is so heavy I nearly collapse before I can make it to the other side of the room.
    I slide across the hardwood floor, barely scraping past the monster. My body collides with the wall and I spin just in time to see the intruder run into the room. He flicks the light on immediately his eyes widen. “What the hell,” he cries out.
    Before he can react, my monster suddenly lashes out at him and the two disappear into the hallway. I hear the struggle; it’s a violent and terrifying assault. But my monster comes back into the room, his white plush fur soaked in blood. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The monster wasn’t really a monster after all, but a sweet looking creature resembling a large dog. And he had just saved my life.

  3. rashi

    Monster monster under my bed
    No one believed, that could be said

    Fear, hate, suspision grew
    When monster popped, out of thee blue

    I screamed, I shout, I ran out of the room
    Seeing my parents was no less than a boon

    “Mamma, I saw a monster there
    It was real, under my bed, I could swear”

    Mamma laughed as she walked by
    Truth of mine, now seemed a lie

    Face disappointed, with a feeling so scared
    Going back to my room, I did not dare

    Age of five, has now passed by
    Believe in monsters? No..would rather die

    Looking around, room full of people
    A feeling of happiness, growing only deeper

    Cut the cake, recieve the blessings
    My birthday party now is ending

    Change my clothes, snuggle into my bed
    With the party song, playing in my head

    “Happy Birthday” a voice I heard
    A giant monster with hairs all curled

    Paranoid as I was, “Get out” I said
    What is he doing under my bed?

    “25 years have now passed by, you’re 30 now
    I miss you alot, wish could tell you this somehow

    I am the monster you were scared of
    At five, coming near me, you dared not

    So I am here with the words I want to say
    I am not bad..just have a side which is grey

    With that look on your face, I know you’re confused
    Let me clear something, I am not the one to be accused

    Seeing you was a wish, a desperate need
    A final goodbye before I leave

    Take care child, you’re a grown up now
    I will never return, that is my vow”

    Saying this, he suddenly vanished
    To the land where he was banished

    I stood there numb, like a quintain
    Trying to make sense, but in vain

    Maybe..just maybe the monster cared
    Since I believed him, coming to me he dared

    I went back to bed with a feeling in my head
    That there was a monster once, under my bed
    No one believed, but I believed the dead.

  4. typestir

    Under a century-old quilt, Grace Fletcher cried herself to sleep night of her thirtieth birthday, but she didn’t sleep long.

    Throughout the party, she’d laughed and joked with family and friends, oohed her gifts, blew out candles and pretended she hadn’t heard her cousins whispering as they washed and dried the guest china.

    “She’s never going to get out of this house,” Linda said, nudging an unruly blonde curl from her forehead.
    “Well maybe,” Susan whispered back, as she dried a plate, “but so what? She seems happy. She always has…I mean, maybe this is the life she wants.”

    “Come on, could you be happy living your entire life with Aunt Iris and Aunt Marjorie, not to mention Grandmother?” Linda paused her washing and stared a moment at the backyard where she glimpsed something move, probably the neighbor’s dog, among the black shapes of the evergreens.

    “There’s way too much estrogen in this house,” she added, then turned to look directly at Susan, “don’t you think there’s something weird here?”

    “What are you saying? You think she’s gay or something?”

    “No. But I’d bet she’s still a virgin.”

    “What about that guy from the bank?” But before Linda could answer, they heard high-heeled footsteps clicking across the dining room.

    “How are you girls getting along in here?” Iris asked as she entered the kitchen.


    “Almost finished.”

    Grace used the distraction of her mother’s entrance to return to the living room, the first tiny tear of the night stinging her eye.

    After the guests had gone, Grace had retreated to her room, the room that had kept her in the heart of her family for thirty years. It was furnished with coveted antiques she’d inherited as an infant, including an ornately patterned Oriental rug.

    She switched on the small lamp on her vanity. Even in the dim light her hair was still mouse-brown, her lips still thin, and her brown eyes still dull. A knot of tears tightened in her throat, and she quickly choked them down, snatching pajamas from a drawer. The tears would come later, in the dark, where tears belonged.

    Grace flattened both hands against her chest, pushing to keep her heart in place. She was sure she heard it, a dark, growling whisper she hadn’t heard in twenty years, but she was sure.

    “Is that you?”


    Propped on a shaky elbow, she peered over the edge of the bed. In the moonlight she saw the intricate pattern in the center of her rug was gone. She fell back on the bed.

    “Why did you leave?”

    “You were too old for monsters. I would have lost you. But, I never left.”

    “Why have you come back?”

    “To take you away if you won’t leave this house.”



    Grace closed her eyes as new tears came.

    “I can’t leave. I’m not ready.”

    “You can, alone or with me. No other choice.”

    She let her toes touch the floor. Next morning Grace and the rug were gone.

  5. kevinbalboa

    I once had a monster under my bed. Numerous times during my childhood I would be in my bed and the monster would craw from under the bed look at me. I would sleep in my parents’ bed even though they somehow never believed me.
    The last time I saw the monster was when I was ten and I haven’t seen the thing since. But although I am now 30, there is still a slight fear every time I go to bed at night that the monster would return.
    I went to bed one night a few nights ago. Everyone was asleep, and I slipped under my covers and fell a sleep pretty quickly.
    But I was awoken in the middle of the night by shuffling noise under my bed. Panic overpowered me in a way I hadn’t felt in many years: the same fear that paralyzed me years later when the monster would appear.
    Something it seemed was trying to crawl from under the bed and then a creepy moaning voice I not heard before accompanied the shuffle.
    My body shaken, I slowly look to the side of the bed and that’s when a black ominous object began to stand and look straight at me. Seeing it was too childish to run to my parents I hid under the covers to hide but then I felt the covers being pulled from under me. My eyes became suddenly exposed in such a way that I saw the hideous black mass standing next to my bed. But something happened that I had not expected.
    The monster actually spoke in a low but clear voice and in a way I could understand.
    In his voice he first asked me why I am scared of him and then he gave a stirring lesson in life and relationships that I had not thought of before.
    “I am not here to hurt you, I just wanted to talk. I am aware my face is hideous and scary but that is the problem with many people in general, they see the outside but they fail to see the value of the inside. . Too many people judge others and that hurts the heart of those who suffer from such judgements
    And then he left and went back under the bed. In the meantime I sat there stunned trying to process everything that he said. That is how my life was about to change

  6. AParks

    Okay, ended up getting 1260 words, but this is the first 450. Not typically a fantasy writer, but this was fun!

    Memories from when I was ten years old flooded back like it was just yesterday…or last night, to be more precise. My mother’s throw pillows from various areas of the house (family room couch, living room settee, her bed) had been strategically placed on my bedroom floor. Starting at the doorway, creating a path to my double bed with the wispy pink canopy overhead, the pillows were my stepping stones across the treacherous moat that existed once the bedroom light was extinguished. My mother and father did not believe me – that the floor disappeared and became a sea of nothingness that would swallow me whole, and they would never see me again if I fell in – so they refused to turn the light off once I was safely and securely in my bed for the night. This meant I was forced to use the pillows…and tread carefully.

    Once in the bed, the grumblings started, very low at first. It was a warning to me; keep all things on the bed. No feet hanging over the side, no arms or hands resting easily on the edge of the mattress. All things must stay on the bed and away from the edges for the entire night. So, I would curl into a ball in the middle of the mattress, cover my head, and tell the monster to go away – or at the very least – go to sleep. But the monster would whisper the same words over and over, “guardians are not always angels,” until I fell asleep, anxiously awaiting the morning sun through my windows, and the return of my floor.

    Tonight, I have different prayers that include begging the bed to stop spinning, and deals struck that will prevent me from hurling the very expensive wine, vodka, and tequila I had ingested throughout the night. My friends had been very generous in their support of my attaining 30 years of life…too generous. Note to self: find friends who are less generous…and go to church.

    The bed felt as if it were swaying, instead of the usual alcohol-induced spin. Something familiar returned to me, memories from my childhood drifted like a wave in my mind. Some of them soft and flowing, some of them crashing like waves against rocks. And somewhere, a whisper I had not heard in twenty years, filled my ears. I strained to make out the words, disbelieving what I was actually hearing. The truth was, I already knew the words, had spent a lifetime wondering when the monster that had resided under my childhood bed, would return.

    “Guardian are not always angels.”

    The rest of the story is at

  7. Kerry Charlton


    Dan Rutherford had returned to his condo, late that evening. His batchelor party combined with his 30th birthday at the ‘It;ll Do Club’ on Lemon Avenue had left him sprawled across his bed in a stupor.

    Grunts rose from under his mattress, causing him to bolt out of bed. His mind hurtled to his childhood nightmare; the monster who frightened him at night. From the floor, the same gravely voice he remembered as a four year old, bellowed a greeting.

    “I’m back Danny boy and this time you haven’t your mommy to protect you.”

    Dropping to his knees, Dan gingerly lifted the bed sham. The repulsive image of a guch-eyed, pot bellied, walrus, greeted him.

    “I see you haven’t improved your image since I was little,” Dan said.

    “You better be nice to me or I’ll hurt you,” the monster replied.

    “Oh, big deal Charlie. I’m scared out of my mind,” Dan said.

    “You named me Charlie? You weren’t frightened when I showed up?” A hint of disappointment colored the monsters voice.

    “You’re damn right I was scared. You don’t like the name Charlie?”

    “Not particularly. Although it was thoughtful of you to name me. ‘Monstor’ gets boring after 600 years.”

    “Come out from under there,” Dan said. “I want to get a better look at you.”

    “It’s not my thing,” Charlie said. “I’m so fat now I have a hard time moving around.”

    “Don’t the dust bunnies bother you under there?”

    “They’re rather tasty,” Charlie said.

    Dan walked into his bathroom, splashing a cold stream of water across his face, trying to bring himself back to reality. His ears however, continued to hear grunts along with spinc-chilling moans from the bedroom.

    “Cut the crap,” Dan said. Silence filled Dan’s ears as he looked under his bed again. Charlie had vanished; in his place a small piece of folded paper appeared. Dan picked the note up and walked to his wing chair by the window.

    ‘Danny boy,’ the note said. ‘I came back to give you a message. Your fiance, Alisa is perfect for you. Better treat her right or you’ll answer to me. Oh, I almost forgot. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, since we’re friends now, Charlie.’

    Saturday afternoon, Alisa and Dan exchanged vows at the Dallas Arboretum. As the fire red sun slipped below the trees, a white Bentley hurried the couple to the Dallas Country Club for their reception. Later that evening, the Bentley dropped the couple at Dan’s condo on Turtle Creek. Dan gathered Alisa in his arms, stepped across the threshold and kissed her sweetly. He carried her to his bedroom and hesitated.

    “There’s something I need to say to you,” Dan said.

    Alisa gazed adoreingly into Dan’s eyes. “Tell me,” she said.

    “I need to talk to you about Charlie.”


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