Dreams After Dark
Boggler
The room was dark. The only light emitted from a small Mickey Mouse night light in the corner of the messy child's room. The sleeping boy stirred around on his bed, before becoming still again. The room was cluttered with toys: Lego's, Superhero action figures, and small trains and cars littered the beige carpet. The bed was something expected in every young boy's room: a race car shaped box, with a small mattress occupying the space.
The small amount of light fell across the boy's face and his eyes fluttered. He was dreaming. He scrunched his face up and let out a tiny squeak. His small hands grasped the matching race car blanket and raised it to his chin. His eyes fluttered once more and then settled.
The figure in the closet smiled evilly and closed a fist over the red and blue door. He wasn't your cliche closet monster. He was one everyone had heard of as they were growing up, but though nothing of as they grew older. He was real alright. He was the Boggler and he was hungry.
His smiled and the pale light glimmered off of his glass teeth. He looked out of the closet at the boy with his one eye and his smile grew. He stealthily crept out of the closet and dragged his plump body behind him. His smile grew with each slide. He got to the edge of the bed, where the boy's legs were hanging out haphazardly and ran his slimy tongue over the boy's big toes.
The boy shivered and stirred, but didn't wake. The Boggler muffled a giggle and let his fat fingers roam over the boy's feet, liking the feel of them. Not too fat, not too bony, just right.
He glanced up at the boy's face and then back down to his toes. He decided and a minute later the boy woke up. He sat up in shock and looked down at his feet. Where his big toes used to be, werestumps. Little nubby stumps. The boy let out a piercing shriek and fell back on his bed. He had fainted.
The Boggler laughed maniacally and slithered back into the closet.
The small amount of light fell across the boy's face and his eyes fluttered. He was dreaming. He scrunched his face up and let out a tiny squeak. His small hands grasped the matching race car blanket and raised it to his chin. His eyes fluttered once more and then settled.
The figure in the closet smiled evilly and closed a fist over the red and blue door. He wasn't your cliche closet monster. He was one everyone had heard of as they were growing up, but though nothing of as they grew older. He was real alright. He was the Boggler and he was hungry.
His smiled and the pale light glimmered off of his glass teeth. He looked out of the closet at the boy with his one eye and his smile grew. He stealthily crept out of the closet and dragged his plump body behind him. His smile grew with each slide. He got to the edge of the bed, where the boy's legs were hanging out haphazardly and ran his slimy tongue over the boy's big toes.
The boy shivered and stirred, but didn't wake. The Boggler muffled a giggle and let his fat fingers roam over the boy's feet, liking the feel of them. Not too fat, not too bony, just right.
He glanced up at the boy's face and then back down to his toes. He decided and a minute later the boy woke up. He sat up in shock and looked down at his feet. Where his big toes used to be, werestumps. Little nubby stumps. The boy let out a piercing shriek and fell back on his bed. He had fainted.
The Boggler laughed maniacally and slithered back into the closet.
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I know you've never heard of this one. I made this character up in English during Shakespeare week. Let me know how it is.