Gremlins Under My Bed

All Quiet on the Western Front

I yelped. My legs twisted and my arms flailed as I attempted to throw myself up my bed, away from the creature. My anger was instantly washed away by the shock; that thing could talk! The gremlin was struggling to stand in the mess I had made of my blankets. My ears perked up, and I froze.

I heard a door open, then shut quietly, and soft footsteps slowly padded down the carpeted hallway. They reached my door and stopped; then, miraculously they continued down the hall. I let out my breath, not realising I had been holding it. My whole body relaxed as I heard the bathroom door close, and the soft click of a lock being turned.

I returned my focus to the bedroom, and the little creature who had now successfully stood once more on my bed. Now fully awake I studied the creature once more. Again the dim light revealed little, but I could now tell that it's skin was a rough greenish-brown, though the exact shade could not be determined. He had three long fingers and a thumb with thick, short nails or claws protruding from the ends.

My mind barely registered the footsteps once again padding down the hall. I looked at the gremlin and wondered why it would need help — why they would need help. Lost in thought, I failed to notice the gremlin slowly stepping forward. I looked down to find the gremlin was within arms reach, with his head upturned, his eyes looking at me imploringly.

"Help us!" he again pleaded, much more emphatically.

"Shut up Dobby!" I hissed, my anger flashing. I quieted, my ears locking on to the soft footsteps in the hallway. My eyes widened and my mouth gaped in horror as the footsteps in the hall vanished, then returned, this time towards my door. The feet brushing over the carpet became like nails on a chalkboard; every whispered step sending new waves of terror over my frozen frame.

The footsteps stopped at my door, and an eternity passed as I waited for the inevitable.