•Creepypasta Origins• •Continueing•

Behind Every Door, Under Every Bed

My son came home from school with an odd new nursey rhyme.
Aiden had always loved singing little songs. The first he ever learned was twinkle twinkle little star. In his mind it morphed from a little ditty to an opera. He would stand up on his chubby legs and belt it out. "TWINKLE TWINKLE!" It was as if he was on a stage. I loved it, of course. He was my little performer.
But this tune Aiden was singing wasn't like anything I had ever heard.
Aiden had started 1st grade a few week before. He loved school. He was a very social child and made friends easily. He was the only kid in kindergarten to not cry on his first day. All the other children were weeping as their parents left them in the classroom. But Aiden just waved at me and started playing by himself. He instinctively knew it was going to be alright.
1st grade was no different. He already had friends and loved his new teacher. It was going so well.
"Behind every door," he sang in his small voice. "Behind every door. Behind every door." The tune was odd. But Aiden danced around as he sang.
"What's that song?" I asked him. I was making grilled cheese for dinner. Aiden liked his with ketchup inside.
"I learned it at school," he responded. "Behind every door! Behind every door!"
It was a little grating to hear the same phrase repeated over and over, but you get used to it when you have kids. "Who taught it to you?"
"Mr. D." Mr D. stood for Mr. Deckonopolis, but obviously the little kids couldn't pronounce that. He was Aiden's teacher. Mr. D was a surprisingly handsome man with an easy smile and bright eyes. I even thought he might have been flirting with me during the school's meet and greet at the beginning of the year.
Aiden twirled around happily. "Mr. D says there's more to the song, but I have to wait until tomorrow to learn it."
"Oh really? You'll have to teach it to me too!" I snapped him up in a hug and he giggled. Being a single parent was hard, but Aiden made it a little easier.
The next day when Aiden came home from school he was just as joyful as always. He yammered on about his friends and art class (his favorite.) It was nearly dinner time when I asked him, "Did you learn any more of that song today?"
"Oh yeah!" He lit up. "Behind every door, beneath every bed! Behind every door, beneath every bed!" He wiggled his hands in time with the rhythm.
I thought to myself that it was an extremely weird little tune. But I didn't tell Aiden that. Instead I just smiled at him and let him have his fun.
It was the next day that things turned from odd to down right creepy.
"Mama!" Aiden burst through the door. "Mr. D taught me the next part of the song!"
"Tell me!" I loved how excited Aiden got about everything.
He cleared his throat as though he were a professional singer. "Behind every door, beneath every bed, there is a man."
"A man?" I frowned. "That's the song?"
"No mama, it's a nursery rhyme. I just haven't heard the ending."
"Well I'm not sure I like this nursery rhyme." I dropped it for the night, not wanting to dampen Aiden's spirits.
Once he was asleep I called up the mother of Aiden's friend, Carson. I asked her if Carson had come home with any strange songs in his head. She said Carson had mentioned that Aiden got to learn a special song that no one else was allowed to hear. Apparently Carson was jealous of how much Mr. D liked him. Needless to say this was disturbing.
The next morning I called the school to speak with Mr. D. I called early enough that they could reach him in his classroom.
"How can I help you, Mrs. Brown?"
"It's Miss. And I need to ask you about a song you've apparently been teaching Aiden?" I tried to keep my voice stern without being rude.
"Yes! Aiden is a very special kid. He learns so quickly!" He sounded like a proud father praising his son. This stirred up feelings inside of me. I pictured Mr. D and his handsome face. Since Aiden's dad left it was hard to find him positive male role models.
I softened my voice a little. "Well, I'm a little concerned because-"
"I'm sorry Miss Brown, class is starting. But let's continue this conversation after school ends." He gave me his personal cell phone number before hanging up.
I felt both relieved and a little excited. I'm not ashamed to say that I hoped he might have more than just a professional interested in my son and me. Aiden so needed a father figure.
When Aidan came home he was full of energy. I calmed him down with some milk and asked him again about the song. He beamed at me. "Not yet, mama!"
"What do you mean, not yet?" He was laughing so I laughed too.
"Not yet!!!" He scampered away and I let it go.
That night I made us hot dogs and baked beans. Like usual, Aiden ate everything on his plate. He was such a good boy. We talked about his day and what our plans for the weekend were.
After some homework I tucked him into bed. I kissed him on both cheeks.
Breathlessly he said, "I can tell you now, mama!"
"Tell me what?"
"The nursery rhyme!"
I chuckled. "Oh yeah. Well then go ahead."
He sat up, grinning. "Behind every door, beneath every bed, there is a man, who wants you dead."
I recoiled. "What did you say?"
"Behind every door, beneath every bed, there is a man, who wants you dead!" He bounced a bit on his mattress. "Behind every door, beneath every bed, there is a man, who wants you dead!"
"Aiden, stop it right now." He frowned at my reaction. "Mr. D taught you that?"
"Yeah, he said to wait until bedtime to tell you."
I grabbed my phone out of my pocket. "Mr. D should not have taught you such a bad song, honey." I dialed the number Mr. D had given me and raised the phone to my ear.
Suddenly a ring sounded from beneath Aiden's bed. My body froze. I lowered the phone a bit and looked down at the floor.
The phone had stopped ringing by the time the hand reached out and grabbed my ankle.

A/N: Yeah. It's been a long long time.
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