Dear Child

Dear child I can hear you, down here under your bed. You whimper and cry because you are afraid of the dark. If you only knew. If you only knew, you'd be quite. It's too late now. In the softness of the night your closet door begins to slowly swing open.

You can't see it, but I doubt you'd want to. I know you can hear them however.

The soft patter of feet.

Their relentless giggling.

They can't be too loud. They don't exist if they are too loud. They need to keep you guessing, keep you afraid if they want to feed. I flex my claws as their little feet bring them closer. Their little knives flash as they start to climb your covers.

They want to feed on you. But there is always something sweeter, and I am stronger. In the morning this will all seem like a bad dream to you and that's fine. The morning sun will banish the shadows and for a time you will stop believing in me and that too is fine.

But I am stronger than they were. Deny me, keep me in shadow. I can wait.

There is always something sweeter to eat.