The Best of Horror

Pop Goes the Weasel

You had set up a camera in hope of catching your friend.

You see, you would fall asleep at night sometimes, then wake up to find all of your belongings shifted. You were positive that it had to be your friend.

It was positioned in the top right corner of the room, focused on your bed. You slept well that night, sure that you would catch them in the act. 

You woke up at five in the morning, and raced over to the camera. You looked at the shut--and locked-- door behind you. You didn't want your mother to get angry at you for spending your savings.

Delightfully, you hooked the camera up to your computer and pressed play.

Nothing happened for the first few minutes, except for your body moving up and down slowly. Then, the edge of your blanket, which was touching the floor, shifted. A gray...thing slipped out from underneath the bed. It had 3-inch nails, a few scraggly hairs, and was wearing nothing but a pair of your old moldy gym shorts. It shuffled through some of your stuff, until it triumphantly pulled out a hidden chocolate bar. As it scarfed the bar down, you noticed that there was something dark under his fingernails. Something tinged red. The chocolate smeared around his mouth, in the same pattern as the red crust at the edges of his lips. After he finished, he stared at your sleeping figure, licking his lips. After another thirty minutes, it stared into the camera. Its eyes were bloodshot, and wild. It smiled a wicked smile, showing off broken, sharp, stained teeth. Then it crawled back under the bed and stayed there until the recording finished.

The sheets behind you shivered, and you realized that whatever it was was still under there.

Mistress of Darkness,

MarineD