The Monster Under the Bed || Kickthestickz

Decrepitude

Currently unedited, so yet again- expect like 678904832 typos

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“Hey, Pj? The Christmas meal in the hall should be starting soon. Should we go inside? It’s chilly out here and the woods are getting a bit dark. I’ll put the heaters back and carry all the blankets to the car. Pj?” I stand myself up, twisting my head round in all directions. “Pj!?” I repeat once more, shouting this time. He can’t just vanish like this. “If this is a joke, Peej, it isn’t funny! Where have you gone? I’m cold and don’t want to miss the food!”

The wind picks up and blows gustily through my thin layers of cold. My body rattles from the cold and I slowly pick up the damp wool of the blankets, cocooning myself inside them, hoping for some sort of warmth. Carefully, I place my feet one in front of other making my way back in the direction, I think we left Pj’s car.

“Chris!” I hear a voice wail. “Chris!” It comes again, noticeably sobbing this time. “Chris!” I squeals, pure terror sounding through its voice. Then I recognise it. I’ve heard that voice with that tone of horror and panic. Phil. The only time he has ever let that his voice sound that way his mother was stone drunk, chucking glass objects at him, getting closer to him and losing control. Dan was on holiday and he’d only just managed to make a grab for his phone, screeching at me down the line.

“Chris, help me! Its coming!” He cried, getting louder and more panicked, more distressed.

I swung my legs round in the direction of Phil’s voice; knowing deep down it was a mistake. But I couldn’t risk it. He would never be calling for me like this. He would never put me through a situation like that again. It had affected me. It had affected both of us. For months following the incident I slept uneasily, paranoid if the boy was okay- if he was coping alright.

With no warning the woods is benighted in darkness. I trip and stumble, falling hard to ground. What I have to believe to be thorns and prickled gouge into my skin ripping and tearing thing, yet deep, stinging cuts. I hiss in discomfort as I stagger to my feet and continue to sprint as fast as I can. As I run I hear my breathing echo around me bouncing off the trees and the foliage I’m surrounded by.

My nose crunches against it first, before the rest of my body follows crushing against what I can only make out to be a wall of cold air. In contrast to the glacial air of the woodland surrounding me, I can make out the warm feeling of the blood from my nose trickling its way down to my upper lip. I swipe it way hastily with the back of my grubby hand, sniffing the rest up as I do.

“Chris! Please, please help!” my eyes dart up as I see Phil standing bare in the middle of the woods. I wish to turn my head but with the stress of the situation, I know I must. I must use every second I can get. He steps forward one more, then I notice Dan trails behind him, clinging intensely to his fingers. Pj is on his other hand, with Calum gripping tightly onto his. “Chris, you have to help us! Please, I’m begging you!”

Each one of them stands there unclothed. Helpless, defenceless. They’re littered with cuts and bruises, as thin as their bones themselves. Calum’s elbows protrude at awkward angles and his and Pj’s fingers awkwardly tangle together, desperate not to lose their grip. PJ’s knees are knobblier and possess huge, just healing cuts things are the size of my arm. From what I can see of Dan, hiding himself away, trembling behind Phil, his cheeks are scarily defined and the darkest circles fall underneath his petrified eyes. Dan blinks his eyes once, nuzzling himself into his boyfriend’s dirty hair, and his tears silently begin to fall. I’ve never seen Dan cry before, and it is something I never wish to see again.

As they stand their just out of my reach, a high pitched squealing sounds through the forest as if a kettle left boiling over. Pj’s eyes dilate, and his breaths become noticeably heavier before Calum slams his hands to his ears attempting desperately to block out the sound.

Before my eyes, the tanned boy’s shoulders slam into another invisible wall, before his head moves gently to the side. His lips are visibly trembling and his eyes become darker and watery. “Please,” he whispers, “we need your help!” His head comes back straight before snapping to the side and becoming loose of the top of his spine. His eyes are let open and glassy as he crumples to a dirty heap on the floor.

Bile rises in my throat as I see Pj slammed back hard, his head –more forcefully this time- moved to the side once before repeating the same action as Calum.

They’re breaking their own necks?

Then Phil. As his head moves of its own accord, his hand clamps terrifically hard onto Dan’s. Using what is obviously the last of his energy to let his lover know he is not alone, before the crack of his spinal cord breaks through the trees as Dan is left alone.

At this point, I know, for some reason, I can help. I get to my feet, and surge forward, no invisible wall keeping me down. My lungs burn and my legs ache as I sprint as fast as I ever have before to my last remaining friend. However, he’s further away than I anticipated, no matter how hard I run, he stays the same distance away.

I watch through my watering eyes, the despair on Dan’s face. Never in his life has he been so vulnerable. He’s just watched all his friends die in front of him, and I just sat and did nothing. And he knows he’s next. It’s inevitable.

His dirty fingernails dig in to the skin on his face, making clean streaks within the grime caked onto it.

And he was next. His face contorts with terror as his shoulders get slammed back. I won’t be able to make it in time. He tries to resist the force as his head moves gradually to the side then back up.

And it snaps. He crumples. All four of my best friends on the floor.

*

“Christopher, are you alright? You fell out of bed.” My eyes shoot open to see Pj standing worriedly over me, in the gap between my bed and chest of drawers. He’s well-feed, not bruised or cute and his neck is most definitely not snapped in two.

Hesitantly, I sit up feeling like an alien in the warm surroundings of the bedroom. I hear either Dan or Phil shuffle in their sleeping bag before I burst into tears. I hate crying. Pj shuffles his arms underneath my body and carries me onto his bed before tucking the pile of blankets at the end of the mattress around my shaking form. “Do you wanna talk about it?” I shake my head. Maybe some other time.

Slowly, he crawls under the blankets with me, stopping momentarily to ask, “Is this okay?” I nod quickly and he continues to wrap us together between the wool. He pulls me gently into his side before whispering “I’ll stay up with you forever, if I must, Christopher. I just want you to be alright.” My chest squeezes at his words and his crazy attractive sleepy voice before I close my eyes, and sigh contentedly. 

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Decrepitude means weakness and feebleness btw.