Collection of Oddities

Vigil

Summary: Goth discovers the monster isn't under the bed. It's at the foot, watching him sleep.

Night had since descended upon the realm of death. Grey clouds crept along the moonless sky, making a promise to bring about a thunderous storm in the upcoming hours. Perhaps, creating what one might call a "dark and stormy night," the cliché seen at the beginning of numerous horror stories. Howls echoed from the fog-laden woodlands that surrounded the land's sole structure: a mansion.

However, this mansion was no ordinary mansion. Within the building's creaking wooden walls lived two dangerous monsters, both proficient in reaping souls, Reaper and Goth. The father and son duo had retired to bed for the day after a long shift spent completing their unappreciated job. One fell asleep almost immediately, and the other could not catch sleep if it were contagious.

In the mansion's depths, the little skeleton child laid on his plush mattress and huddled further into the quilt hiding him. He feared neither the storm nor the howling beasts lurking beyond the veil of darkness. They happened to be a constant in the ominous realm. A thing Goth grew up with and knew very well. No, something - someone - inflicted terror on the young death god's soul. Not a beast, not a nightmare, but an unholy creature that made horrid noises in the shadowy corners unlit by the nightlight's warm yellow glow.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Goth cowered beneath his blanket. The sound repeated over and over and over again as he shivered and hugged his legs to his chest. A tiny sniffle escaped without permission, causing the creature that created the bone-chilling sound to pause a moment before starting anew. Thus, making him squeeze his eye sockets shut and pray the (hopefully) imaginary demon would disappear.

He didn't want to be a coward. He was a death god revered - but more often feared - by mortals; The son of Death and Genocide, who should be stronger and braver than a mere child.

Mustering all his courage, the young death god abruptly cast aside his plush shield and righted himself; a hand stretched out with a single phalange pointed at the noisy thing while he wobbly demanded, "W-w-why are you here?!"

Silence answered.

Goth slowly cracked open his eye sockets and blinked. An even darker mass mingled amongst the shadows laying at the foot of the bed frame. Its hazy shape looked skeleton-esque and appeared to flicker side to side ever-so-slightly in certain areas, like static-y snow the TV displayed sometimes. A bright yellow/blue orb shone where he could only assume an eye socket laid. If not for those details and the fact the figure was about an inch too short to be the only other skeleton in the house, the young god might have believed his father decided to prank him.

Once Goth's eyelights adjusted to the dim lighting and took in the sight of the creature waiting at the end of his bed, he whimpered. Almost immediately yanking his hand back to his side and drawing the covers tight around his sitting form, eyelight quivering fearfully.

Opposite from him stood none other than Error, the destroyer of worlds. The fizzle of the broken-coded being's glitches was masked by the hum of the old house's outdated air conditioning system. His dark-toned bones barely stood out against the shadows, and his opposing form loomed menacingly over the bed's edge, providing a decent view of the white/red striped popcorn bucket clasped in his multicolored hands. Despite the poor lighting, Goth could see a somewhat surprised expression on that foreboding face.

The other seemed to observe him for a moment before answering. "To-to watch y-you sleep-p."

"Don't! Go away!" Goth whisper shouted, trying to keep his voice quiet enough as not to wake the home's second resident. But would it be a bad thing if he woke his father? Probably. Reaper was rather useless when tired, and the young death god doubted the other would be able to fight off a powerful monster in such a state.

At the mini outburst, the destroyer merely raised a brow and popped a few more pieces of fluffed corn into his mouth. "Wh-why? It-t-t never bothered you-you before."

Goth let out a strangled whine and quickly pulled the top of his sheet over his head. For hours he stayed awake under the covers, listening to the dreaded crunching sound until his body rebelled and dragged him into a restless slumber.

When the skeleton child woke up the next morning, he found a well-crafted doll of his mother eerily sat in the destroyer's stead.