In 500... (or less)

Which Monster?

There are few things in life which can more perfectly shatter a sound sleep than the scream of child.

My wife and I shuffled as we heard a cry from our youngest child's room. It wasn't a normal scream. He didn't ask for mommy or daddy specifically. It was an ear-curdling wail for help.

We both shuffled lightly.

"He'll go back to sleep," I whispered to my wife. "It was just a bad nightmare."

I received an unintelligible response. She was still mostly asleep. 

I had almost drifted back asleep when the cry became more intense, more frightened, more filled with terror.

My wife sat up immediately, I was already half out of the bed.

"I'll get him," I groaned. These things always happened on Sunday night. The whole week's sleep schedule would be thrown out of whack.

"Daddy," he said softly, in a voice I hadn't expected. "Hurry!"

I shuffled into the room, my eyes still blurred with sleep. I cursed under my breath as my foot was pierced by a toy on the dark floor. 

"What's wrong?" I tried not to sound annoyed. Only his head stuck out from under the covers. His face was locked in sheer terror. It must have been a bad nightmare. 

"It's under there." He motioned toward the floor, under the bed.

"What's under there?"

"A monster."

I relaxed a little, remembering my own fear of the dark decades ago. Only the imagination of a child was able to twist the shadows into horrifying beasts keen on gobbling up a kid in bed.

"It's ok, I'm here." I went to sit on the bed, but he forbade it.

"Look. Please." There was an urgency in his voice that gave me pause. Seldom did anything upset my little guy like this.

"Let's have a look."

I thought I saw something move under the bed, but it was dark and my eyes hadn't adjusted to the low light. I theorized that it was the cat.

"It's just Plinky," I said, trying to convince him.

"No," he said emphatically. "It's not."

"Sure it is, I saw him." I wasn't all that convincing.

"No, it's a monster. It talked to me."

I finally relented, and walked over to turn the light on. Again the damn toy got me. I was hoping to avoid turning the light on, it would surely cost me an hour of prime sleep now.

I got down on my hands and knees and peered under the bed. At first I didn't see anything, then it became clear there was an outline of something under there. Then it moved toward me.

As the light hit the object, I felt the blood drain out of my face. I hoped I was dreaming, but I knew I was awake. The face of my child, the same child who was shaking with terror in the bed, appeared slowly from under the bed.

"Daddy," the doppelganger said. "Is the monster still in my bed?"