𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤, 𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤.

Scary Night

Mark blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark as he stared up at the ceiling. Scared and unable to sleep, he shifted slightly, trying everything possible to avoid looking into the darkness just beyond his bed. His only thought; 'Daddy didn't tuck me in'

He had a nightlight, most kids his age did. But unfortunately for him it was broken and nobody in the house had gotten him a new one. In his, usually absent, father's words, Mark needed to grow up. That bit confused him. He was only four, after all. How could he act like a grown-up? How could he not be scared of the dark and what could be in it..? That confusion didn't exactly matter right now, though. He reached for a stuffed animal to take with him to his mother's room..only to remember that his dad had taken them all the last time Mark got in trouble. He let out a quiet whimper. A sound of fear or sadness, he couldn't tell which.

He slowly got out of his bed. The warmth of his blankets giving way to the sharp and sudden coldness of the air arounfd him. His feet touched the poorly done carpeting, somehow it was just as cold as the air around him. He made his way over to his bedroom door, opening it silently and closing it behind him. Walking past his father's room, unsure if it was empty, and to the stairs.

He didn't notice he was being watched.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He made it to the fifth step down before stopping. The room next to the stairs had always scared him. He had never seen what was in it and given how dark it was right now, his mind ran wild with all sorts of awful things. Well. As awful as you can get when you're a four year old. Really, he was rather mature for being so young. Even so the worst his mind gave him when he looked at that room was neverending darkness full of monsters and spiders. Mostly spiders, though. He hated those things. Too many eyes and too many legs combined with fangs and, occasionally, venom, they were any child's worst nightmare.

Maybe he could just. Skip trying to loop to his mother's room. Go back to bed. Avoid having to go past the scary room. He looked back up the stairs and, somehow, it was even darker than the way he was headed. He shuddered, the air was far colder now. How was it so cold in a house with a fully functional heating system? Too many questions ran though his head as he took the first step in front of the void of a room.

Thud.

What. The hell. Was that? Was someone else there? Maybe it was his mom or his dad. Maybe it was an animal outside. Maybe someone had dropped something. Deep breaths Mark, don't cry. You're too old to cry. He looked into the dark room. No. The sound hadn't come from there. It had come from the bottom of the stairs. He tried to step back but something was pushing him forwards and he didn't know what it was. He was scared. Of course he was scared. He put on a brave face, though. Calling out to whoever or whatever was there.

"H-hello? Who's there!? I- if it's someone bad g-get out! I can get my mommy and daddy. O-or I'll call the police! G-go away!" He took another step without noticing. Mark called again to the potential stranger. "I-I have a- I have a weapon!" Another step. Ever closer to the bottom of the stairs. Eventually he made it almost all the way down. Blinking at what he saw. A figure wearing a hoodie. At least, Mark could only assume it was a hoodie. The man wore dark clothes, the hood of his jacket framed his pale face.

Then, Mark looked closer. The man's smile was too big for his face. His eyes a bit too wide. These were things that monsters might have. But the man didn't look like a monster. So, Mark decided, the man before him wasn't a monster. Simply a not-human. Besides, monsters hurt people. The not-human hadn't tried to hurt him, and its smile was friendly! Mark stepped closer. Maybe the man in the corner would want to be his friend. Mark waved and whispered out an apology for his threats moments ago.

The not-human chuckled very quietly and nodded. The one thing Mark hadn't noticed about the man while talking to him was that he didn't blink. Throughout the whole interaction he had simply stared at Mark. Mark hadn't had the mind or nerve to question it, though. He was starting to feel sleepy anyways. He leaned onto the railing, trying to say something towards his new quote-unquote "Companion", but it was cut short as he fell onto his knees on the wooden stairs.

He winced slightly at the impact, tiredly searching his friend's face for any sign of concern. But there was none. He reached a hand out to the other before falling totally unconscious.

6 inched his way closer to the child. It was unfortunate that one so kind, yet so logical, such as this one had to be his victim. Truly unfortunate.

Mark blinked awake in his mother's room, the woman herself standing over him with concern in her eyes. "Mark? Sweetie you scared me half to death! I found you asleep on the stairs with some creature-person-thing standing over you. I grabbed you and ran. I think your father shot the thing. You stay in here wih me. Alright?"

"Okay mama.." the child reached up and clung to his mother who eventually crawled into the bed and held Mark close to her, fear of losing him overtaking her other emotions at the time. Slowly but surely, Mark fell asleep. The next few years were full of nightmares about the man- no- the not-human- no that didn't work either. The monster in the corner. The one with too wide eyes and a too big smile. Mark hoped he'd never see it, or anything like it again.

The boy should've known that hope saves no-one.