Single mom Selina Sardi would do anything for her 6-year-old son. Eager to turn their new house into a real home for him, she's devastated when she discovers that the monster under his bed is not a figment of his imagination but the real deal.
Elia...
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She didn't like how his arctic blue gaze seemed to slice her in half, making her feel vulnerable and divided, torn between wanting to hide and not being able to move. With trembling voice, she said, "I'm asking you once again nicely, please leave my house."
"I can't. I'm hungry."
He was. She could feel it. His need hung heavy in the air between them, but his need wasn't her concern. "I'll fight you," she said.
"If you must. I will have to munch on your fear while you're at it then." He crawled back up, expanding as he flew closer.
"I'm not scared of you. You just told me. It's not real. You won't hurt me. It's only my imagination. I'm not scared of you anymore."
"You seem to forget who you're talking to," the bogeyman whispered, his breath landing in hot puffs on her forehead, his claws curling closer to her chin, "You can't hide your fear from me. The smell of it rolls from your pores, like waves of sweet, heavy cologne ... and I want it. I need it. I crave it."
"I'm not afraid," she insisted, scrambling back on her hands, away from his paralysing gaze. She scanned the room for something she could use to defend herself. Her fingers touched a crate of toys. She grabbed the first thing, a robot? Good enough. She flung it at his head.
He ducked and hissed. "Stop doing that. It's no use. You're still scared as a bog. All you're doing is slowing down the feeding process."
A plastic dinosaur hit his thigh. Or whatever it was. The smokey tendrils that floated from his waist down flared out and wavered. The dinosaur whizzed through.
"You're making this unnecessarily painful for both of us. Stop it and let me eat."
Her hand closed around a firetruck. Her muscles tightened. She squinted and aimed. The truck hit his crotch. He gasped and staggered back, grabbing for the place she'd hit. "Boggit!"
Selina raised her eyebrows. There was something there. Under all that ghostly, wavering nothing sat something solid and vulnerable. Surprise, surprise. With renewed vigour, she commanded, "Now please leave!"
"I can't!" He blew up and in a blink, loomed over her again, the stuff of nightmares caressing her skin. "I can't leave until I eat, and don't you think for one second that because I'm not in the habit of hurting people that I can't. I can hurt you, lady."
She held her breath while he enveloped her in a mist of nightmares. "Or your son," he added and fear returned instantly in all its overwhelming power, engulfing her, swallowing her, destroying her.
"Yes," she heard him croon, "yes, that's it. More. Just a little more. Think about my claws on Lowie's precious little neck."
She winced and whimpered, the image imposing on her, choking her, or choking Lowie? No, not Lowie. Lowie's breath staggered. Was he dying? No, no. Noooo ...
