He no Longer Feared the Dark

little something I whipped up. About a boy growing to no longer fear the monsters in the dark. I think it needs more work

He could stomp his little feet across the hallway all he wanted, but he could never escape what he feared. It is all consuming, behind every object, casted by every person, darkness is inevitable and so was his fear. Never ending void, like a canvas where all sorts of horrors would appear before his very eyes, tormenting his soul relentlessly. It could be wiry, hairy legs that would lie in wait under his bed. Tempting his toes with warm comfort, before snatching him, dragging him under and to its breast. Draining him of his life with teeth hidden behind red lips, its hair long and withered, drapes over him, as the beast cares not for his screams.

Or, would that brutish devil from the closet get him first? With its constant fidgeting amongst his assortment of toys where it hid, the noise it made was definitive proof of its existence. It too would wait, wait for a brief moment where he would let down his guard, and from the closet that creature would burst. Driving to his throat, pummeling him with rageful fists, skin taut around over sized muscles and with veins protruding like ropes. Horns just inches from his face, as he switches from bludgeoning him to wringing his neck, so pathetic in comparison, till there was no more resistance.

On a normal night the thought of these two horrors would stir his mind with such fright, that he could seldom remember how he felt  the evening before. But not on this night, no. He was preoccupied with the almost unending stare down he had with a creature more terrifying than the rest. It stood completely flat, and so tall that it folded against the corner of the wall and the ceiling. It looked down upon him with bright eyes that almost shined like the moon compared to the rest of his darkened body, that was in the shape of a suit. It stunned him, he could not look away. It removed him from all worries and all the memories he once had, no longer could he exist separately, never again shall he frolick during the day while awaiting the dreadful night, he shall only exist in terror.

On a normal night, the thought of the two horrors would stir his mind to think only of staying awake and waiting for the day, where he would not face those tormentors. But not on this night, no. He was far more preoccupied with a being that loomed over him, possessing powers ancient and unknown. Completely flat, its black body, resembling a suit, folded against the corner of the wall and ceiling, having a pure white face, but eyes of a human, decaying almost but still locked to him. 

But now it is too much. He could lie there motionless for twice as long as he already did and would gain no ground on the phantom. The slight opening of his door enchanted him with the thought to flee, and with his grand suspicion that that horrific ghost of his plot, he took without looking back.

And then he ran, chubby limbs flailing along the open hallway of his house. Creatures poking their little deformed heads from the shadows, materializing in his peripheral as he pushed on faster and faster. They laughed at him with crackling giggles, reinforcing his imminent doom. The phantom was ever present, stretching further upon the ceiling, following him, while the horrid cackling grew. Then it stopped. As it always did once he reached his escape, his ever compliant oasis lying behind an oh so familiar door. Its ability to vanquish all that was horrible, to reduce power so terrifying to a non existing abstraction, would bring him to such awe, that he, in this moment, did not question why the light was on.    

 No thoughts rang through his head, no fear, no anguish, no comforting embrace of safety and happiness, just an overwhelming befuddlement that overcame him as he saw his parents in actions so alien. His mother bent in such a vulnerable position, gripping the bed in what could only be pain. As his father stood over her, thrusting his hips and clenching his teeth, as both of them breathed as if in mid sprint. In this moment he could barely recognize them, whom he had always trusted and loved now looked possessed by what he could never understand. He could say nothing, he could not even scream.

His feet slowly shuffled back down the once populated hallway, back into his room, that would still squeak but no longer caused alarm. Laying there motionless, eyes forcibly shut, trying to ignore the shame that covered him, making him feel sick to be alive. 

That night could not be forgotten like the ones before. It trickled into the day, and removed him from the joy of the sun, of playing, or even the park they sat in now. A wind blew, fragrant smells of spring disrupting the calm hang of trees. He could do nothing but sit beside his parents on a bench, staring at the ground to avoid their eyes. His mother looked at him puzzled, curious as to why he was in this slump, “Hey, don't you wanna play?”

“I’m fine,” he uttered emotionless and abrupt, he no longer feared the dark.

“Son I think there's an ice cream truck down the street. How about we get some cones, what do you say sport?” His father chimed in. 

“I’m fine,” there were plenty of monsters out during the day.

      

Reviews

[Aly]

I enjoyed 'he no longer feared the dark'. Lots of nice descriptions of monsters, and the imagery took me back to when I was afraid of the dark. The story held me until it closed softly with the family in the park, excellent contrast to the scary beginning and middle.