Fear is delicious. I love the taste of fear. Little jump scares. Terrifying nightmares. All of them are absolutely delicious.

I, and my kin, live under beds and scare people. Living off of their nightmares and fears. We help prepare children for life.

We’re usually move on once a child is in their late teens. Once someone becomes an adult, their fears are less…. Satisfying some how. There is something about the fresh fears of childhood that sustains us the best.

Timmy is my first human. I was placed under his crib when he was brought home from the hospital and I have been with him ever since. There is just something special about your first human.

When he was sixteen I was thinking of moving on. His fears were becoming stale and old. And then, she hit him. His mother hit him. And then his father hit him. My sweet Timmy. He has new fears but I was sickened by the thought of eating those. I maybe a monster but his parents are monstrous.

What could I do? I am an amorphous fear monster, how do I defend him? I did the only thing I could, I moved in under his parents bed and taught them what it was to fear. Their fears aren’t fresh like a child’s but I shall feast on the quantity.

Katie took the bus back home today from high school. She bought a bag of fruit snacks from the gas station convenience store on the way. She reached home. Mom and dad accidentally forgot to unlock the door. So she had to knock. She waited a minute and then crawled through the living room window. Mom and dad were watching tv, sprawled on the sofa with a box of pizza. “Hi, I’m home” Katie said. “Oh, ok” said dad, lifting his head up briefly. Katie scarfed down the fruit snacks and tossed the plastic wrapper into the trash.

She then went to her room and shut the door. Today was yet another dreary day. Nothing to look forward to with her parents at home. No asking how her day was. No dinner. No help with homework. Katie just wanted to go to bed early. She didn’t know why but she really enjoyed sleeping. She just knew she had amazing dreams at night. Each morning when she woke up she didn’t remember any of the dreams. But she did remember there was a wholesome warm feeling, in stark contrast to what the rest of her day would be like. Katie changed out of her tight stuffy school clothes and put on her soft old pajamas. She lied down in bed.

This whole time I was also there, under her bed. I knew this routine very well for the past several years. As she dozed off and the sun began to set, I began my spooky actions.

I reached my slimy thorny purple tentacle out from under the bed. I passed it through the bedsheet covers making its way to Katie. With the very tip of my tentacle I tapped her armpit. She laughed instinctively at the ticklish sensation. Her eyes opened and she realized in horror what it was that was touching her. “Aah!” she screamed. She was wide eyed and completely awoken from her sleep.

“Boo!” I uttered in response. Waving my tentacle. Like I had done for the past 16 years

Katie trembled in fear. “Wh-who are you?”

I speak in a sinister tone, pronouncing my horrible name. “I’m Valtrixa the Demoness of the Night”.

Katie looked a little perplexed. “Hold on, Valtrixa, that name sounds familiar”. It triggered some memory deep down. Not a scary memory but a warm memory. Something Katie vaguely remembered years and years ago.

“Yes, I am the monster under your bed. I haunt you every night” I continue, trying to sound spooky.

“Every night?”

“Yes, every night. Yesterday, day before, day before that. The thing is every morning your memory of what happened at night with the monster goes away. That is how bedtime monsters work in general, I can’t change it. All that is left is a vague emotional memory, that is it”

Katie is still trying to process this. Her heart is racing. She has a mix of apprehension at this speaking creepy tentacle, and some inexplicable instinct that this will be ok.

“Katie, why don’t you come on to my realm”, I tell her. “Just crawl under your bed. It will be amazing”. I know it will be. She has done this thousands of times.

Katie decides to do as my monstrous voice tells her. She throws away her bedsheet, gets onto the floor, and crawls into the space under the bed. Three years ago she could slip through the seven inch gap easily. Now she struggles to fit but slowly worms her way through. I anticipate that in a month or two she won’t be able to fit at all, and at that point our nighttime adventures to the happy place will have to end. The under-bed realm isn’t built to accommodate grownup-sized people and Katie is nearing the limits. But I hope to at least enjoy what’s left of our our time.

Once Katie is entirely under the bed, I begin wrapping my tentacles around her, passing them through the narrow space. Then I let all my thorns vibrate. There is an audible low hum.

Before she knows it Katie finds herself in a bright sunny front yard of a home. It is actually her own home. Except her parents are not there. Instead there is a caretaker, dressed in a purple gown. That is actually my physical manifestation in the happy place.

I explain to Katie for at least the two-thousandth time what this place is and who I am. Then I place a covered plate on the table before her. She opens it. It is custard rolls. Her favorite snack. I baked it for her. She looks delighted. Never in her memory has anyone taken the time to make food like this for her. She pops them into her mouth and relishes the taste.

We go inside and I offer to help her on her homework. She pulls out her math workbook. Now it’s honors precalculus. I’ve had to learn a lot to keep up with her. But I go through the worksheet with her and explain it in a way that’s fun. She loves math. Never in her memory did anyone take interest in subjects she liked.

Now it’s play time. Today both of us decide to enact a skit. Katie writes the dialogue. She is really good at this. Very imaginative, very funny. I have my cell phone record it as both of us enact all 34 roles she came up with. Of course, the cell phone recording will vanish as soon as the night ends and Katie goes back to bed. But at least in the moment, we can see our video. It is awesome. It probably would get a million likes on youtube if it was possible to send it from the happy place to Katie’s normal life. But that is not possible. I have tried a hundred times.

Then we dance. Katie always wanted someone to teach her to dance. She had to learn all the way from the beginning, although she does have some muscle memory from the past few hundred times that lets her pick up the steps quickly. Either that or she is just naturally good.

Soon it is almost time for the night to end. “Tonight was awesome” says Katie. “Thank you demoness, I love you”

“I love you too” I say.

“I want to do this tomorrow night too. And the night after. And every night” she says.

“Of course”

“I don’t want to ever stop. I don’t like mommy and daddy. I don’t want to ever leave you,” she says.

“Of course” I tell her.

“You promise?”

“Yes” I say. I will keep making the same false promise for the next month or two. “Are you ready to go back to start your day?”

“Yes” she says. I hug her. She witnesses me transform into my hideous purple monster form and watches her surroundings turn into the tiny space under the bed in which she is squeezed lying down. She slowly crawls out of the bed, and as she does her memories fade rapidly. She climbs back onto her bed, pulls the sheets, and finishes her sleep.

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