The Boogeyman

The world was dark. Lightning carved bright, jagged furrows across the sky. Moonlight fought to pierce the cloud cover. Thunder boomed like the mighty footfalls of giants.

And in the house, concealed within the confines of the sleeping child’s closet, the Boogeyman sat with thin, spindly legs crossed, his spade-clawed hands placed gently upon his knees, waiting.

The Boogeyman was at peace for what felt like the first time in a very long time. He sat there quietly, dozing, dreaming peacefully even as the storm enacted it’s fury outside and the family of three humans slept soundly in their beds. The Boogeyman allowed himself to enjoy the silence, for he didn’t know how long it would last. It was bound to be shattered, sooner or later, and not just for him.

He dreamed. He dreamed of a distant land where the sky was lit by a neverending twilight, a land where strange plants rose from the dark earth like the grasping hands of the ancient, long buried dead. He could feel pale white grass beneath his clawed feet. He could feel the gentle breeze upon his skin, smell the heady aroma of arterial earth. He could imagine the sound of underground rivers rushing over stones, filling the endless night with the sound of water running.

A smile creased his face.

It was not a beautiful face, the Boogeymans, but that didn’t bother him. Only humans saw a monster when they looked at him.

His eyes were high and wide set, slanted strangely like those of a cat. His nose was so flat as to be almost non-existent, little more than two vertical slits in his face. His mouth was thin, his lips as insubstantial as his nose. In the span of a heartbeat, those lips could pull back to reveal a mouth full of serrated, shark-like teeth that glistened like saltstone. A long, snake-like tongue waited behind them.

He sat there, dreaming his silent dreams, waiting, listening. . .dreading what was to come.

They were here already. He could smell them. The air was noxious with their corrupted stench. Duty would soon cry out it’s clarion call, and he would answer, with tooth and claw and righteous fury. . .

The Monsters lay hidden beneath the bed of the sleeping child, reptilian bodies curled in upon themselves like those of slumbering snakes.

Long fingers that ended in needlelike talons buried themselves deeply into the hard wood of the floorboards, and eyes like glowing red coals carved through the darkness with the ease of a hot knife through butter.

One of the creatures hissed quietly to himself, and another reached out with his long fingered hand, laying it roughly upon the others thin, bony shoulder.

“Ssssilent!” Whispered the Monster Under the Bed. “Not yet. . .”

And so they waited.

Their long slender bodies bore not even a trace of humanity; they were monsters in every sense of the word, abominations born of the foulest, most corrupt magic the universe had ever given birth to. They were the children of the Wretched Abyss, coughed up by the corrupted earth and given life by a darkness too deep for any sane, rational creature to survive in for very long.

They lay there beneath the bed, wondering, waiting, all three dreaming of the slaughter to come, relishing the thought of it.

The Abyss was on their side. They could feel it in their bones. The darkness was so complete that not even the moon and the dreadful stars were there to illuminate their wicked forms. It was a good sign, a positive omen, they were certain of it.

Yes, the killing would go smoothly this night. Quite smoothly indeed.

And so, they waited, hidden under the child’s bed, concealed in the good, soothing darkness, waiting for their chance to strike.

The Boogeyman opened his eyes suddenly.

He rose slowly, silently, reaching out with one thin, long-fingered hand and pressing the tips of his claws gently against the closet door. It swung open just a crack.

The Boogeyman put one of his bright blue eyes to the gap and peered out into the room beyond.

It was a room typical of any human child. Toys strewn all over the place, dirty laundry and discarded little art projects. Drawings of strange characters hung on one of the walls, while next to the bed, a small window opened out onto the outside world. The curtains -blue, like his eyes. The darkness was no more an issue to him than a fly would be to spider- had been pulled.

The storm was still raging strong outside, lightning flashing so brightly that even the curtains couldn’t hold back the light. The brightness made him recoil slightly, but he remained at the door, peering out through the small slit, searching for any sign of danger.

There was a night-table beside the child’s bed, one drawer pulled open and left to hang. There was a lamp sitting on top of the table, and the hand of some stuffed toy hung limply from the open top drawer.

The Boogeyman shuddered at the sight of the lamp; he did not care for light of any kind, sunlight most of all. Lamplight was a pale imitation of sunlight, but it brought immense discomfort to him all the same. He dreaded the idea of the child waking up and flicking the wretched thing on.

He turned his thoughts away from such things. He had no time to worry over such simple things as a lamp.

He panned his gaze across the room, taking in everything. There was a chest of drawers close to the door, short and stout as a barrel. More toys sat on top of it. It’s legs rose slightly up off the ground, and the darkness underneath it was as total as that within the closet.

‘Too small’ Thought the Boogeyman. Only the smallest of all his potential foes would be able to conceal themselves under there.

He turned his attention to the bed.

It ,too, was low to the floor, but it was wider underneath, a fit hiding place for any human. It was a fit hiding place for other, more sinister things, as well.

The Boogeyman pulled back slightly, away from the door, lest he be spotted by anything. . .unfriendly. The child was sleeping soundly, lost in his dreams. He wouldn’t be that way for very much longer. . .

“Now. . .” Said the Monster under the Bed.

The floor began to vibrate slightly. Thunder boomed outside and lightning flashed, illuminating the pale blue hand of the Monster as it crept out from under the bed and slammed down onto the floor, claws digging into the woodwork.

The noise brought the child out of his dreams and back to reality. He opened his eyes slowly, swimming dizzily into full wakefulness.

Suddenly, it was upon him.

Long fingered hands closed suddenly about his throat and lifted him clear of the bed. His eyes widened and fixed upon the thin, monstrous face of the thing which held him in it’s terrible grip. The child felt warmth run down his legs as he wet himself in fright.

“Die, human!” Said the Monster.“Die!”

The child screamed.

Then, the closet door flew open and the Boogeyman slammed into the Monster as more snake-like beasts began to emerge from the darkness under the bed. The child flew out of the Monsters grip and hit the floor with a solid “thump.”

The Boogeyman drove his elbow hard into the middle of the Monsters back, sending it reeling across the bed. It hissed and snapped wildly like some wild, rabid beast, lashing out with it’s claws even as it struggled to right itself.

“Go!” Cried the Boogeyman as the child regained his feet and stood with wide, terrified eyes, watching the scene unfold.“Run to safety! Go!”

The child turned suddenly and raced for the door.

The other Monsters, unwilling to let their prey escape, howled and began racing along after the young boy. The Boogeyman seized the lamp and clicked the mechinism, flooding the room with light.

The Monsters howled and reeled back, ashes rising from their scaly bodies as the light ate away at their corrupted forms. The Boogeyman fought off the urge to retreat back into the closet even as the light covered him, filling him with terrible discomfort. He would not die. The artifical light the humans had made would not kill him, but by the Abyss, was it uncomfortable.

The Child finally managed to tear the door open just as the Monster on the bed turned itself over and lashed out with it’s slender tail, slapping the lamp out of the Boogeyman’s hand and into the wall. The light went out, but it was far too late. The child had escaped, rushing down the hallway beyond the door.

“Filthy Zaa’zau!” The Monster hissed, using the name of the Boogeyman’s proud and noble race as if it were the most terrible of insults.“Filthy, hideous Zaa’zau!”

“Wretched Raa’nok, I will send you to the Abyss in pieces!” Cried the Boogeyman.

“Kill him!” The Monster hissed as it righted itself.“Kill the Zaa’zau!”

The other monsters, slaves to the first, lept suddenly and crashed into the Boogeyman with thunderous force, driving him back against the wall. They seized the Boogeyman’s throat with their thin fingered hands and squeezed with a strength that their thin, corpse-pale bodies had no right to possess.

The Boogeyman’s eyes watered and his vision blurred, but he managed to catch sight of one of the creatures just long enough to bring up one of his hands and lash out with it, carving four jagged red lines into the Monster’s face.

The creature reeled and jibbered in a language as dark and corrupted as it was, clutching at it’s ruined face with both hands. It’s companion howled and made to bite down upon the Boogeyman’s neck, but it was far too late.

The Boogeyman brought his hand up and around in a swift arc, cracking the beast across the face. It’s grip upon him loosened and he threw himself forward, grabbing the monster by the throat as he ran and lashing out with his teeth. He bit the beast in the neck and pulled a huge wad of dark, corrupted meat free. Black blood splashed across the Boogeyman’s face.

The monster struggled in his grip for a moment, than relaxed suddenly as the life left it.

The Boogeyman lifted the creature up with both hands and hurled it across the room. The body slammed into the scarred Monsters flank and sent it reeling across the room, into the closet.

The Boogeyman wasted no time. He ran, closing the distance between himself and the closet and pouncing upon his injured foe. The Boogeyman roared triumphantly as he dug his claws deep into the Monsters chest.

He lept off of the thing as it squirmed and bled out it’s last, turning to face his third and final foe.

His eyes widened in surprise and horror.

The Third Monster, the one to whom the other two had been bound, was gone. . .

The Child ran as fast as his legs could carry him, tears streaming down his face as the sounds emerging from his room grew even more frenzied and horrible. He could hear his father’s voice up ahead, raised in alarm.

Hope bloomed in the child’s chest, and it gave him the strength to move on, faster than before.

“Daddy!” He cried.“Daddy!”

Something crashed behind him, a sound like claws on polished wood.

“Little wretch!” Something hissed.

The child threw a look over his shoulder, and saw the Monster working it’s way down the hall after him on all fours like some horrible, mutant dog. It’s eyes burned with hate and rage.

The boy screamed, and the sound of footfalls up ahead drew his attention away from the monstrosity. He turned a corner in the hall just in time to see the door to his parents bedroom fly open and his father, clutching a baseball bat in both hands, step out into the midnight darkness.

The child yelled, and his father froze as he saw what was chasing after the boy.

“My god,” He said, and backed off a step.“Oh my god!”

The Monster halted for a second and growled at the sight of the man, clutching his feeble weapon and staring with such absolute terror. It savored the look on the man’s face, grinning widely, before resuming the chase, scuttling across the floor with blinding speed. It leapt at the last second, soaring through the air with arms held out, claws ready to tear into fresh, yielding meat.

“Raa’nok!” Cried a voice from somewhere behind him.

A hand closed about the Monsters ankle.

The Boogeyman howled, and pulled back upon the Monsters leg, spinning it around once before slamming it hard into the wall. Pictures shuddered and fell, and somewhere, a window shattered.

The Monster lay there for a moment, wracked with pain, shuddering convulsively before turning itself over onto it’s stomach and righting itself. It looked up, and scowled.

“Filthy Zaa’zau!” It growled, staring fixedly at the Boogeyman.

“Degenerate Raa’nok!” The Boogeyman said in reply.

“You cannot save them. Even if you stop me, more will come!” Said the Monster.“We are legion!”

“I know,” The Boogeyman said.“But so are we. You’ve lost.”

“Gah!” The Monster shook it’s head fitfully, like an angry dog.“You will never stop us! We will outlast you! My people are strong, and we shall never kneel! I shall never kneel!”

The Boogeyman bared his sharp teeth.

“Then I will gut you standing,” He said.

The Monster roared, and the Boogeyman roared with it.

The two of them leapt, flying through the air toward one another like two arrows flung from opposing bows. Claws glistened wetly in the low light.

It was over before the child’s mother even reached the door, a strange device clutched in her hand. She started to say something as she stepped out into the hall, but the words died in her throat as she saw what had been done to the Monster.

Black blood oozed from a long, vertical gash in the Monsters throat. It twitched and squirmed upon the floor for a minute or two, than it fell still.

Before the three humans, like a knight before a royal family, knelt the Boogeyman.

There was a cut upon his side, bleeding a strange blue substance that might have been blood. He was breathing heavily.

“My god. . .” Said the Mother.

The Boogeyman looked up and saw them; the entire family, man, woman, and child. They were staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. The mother had begun to weep silently. But the child was no longer crying. In fact, he seemed almost. . .excited.

For a moment, there was silence, then the boy spoke.

“Who are you?” He said,“Are you a monster?”

The Boogeyman smiled.

“I am,” He said, and rose to his feet.“I am a monster. But not like them.”

The Boogeyman indicated the bleeding thing on the floor.

“What was that?” Said the boys father.“For christ’s sake, what are you?!”

“I am a figment of your imagination,” The Boogeyman said.“A bad dream. Nothing more.”

“Like hell you a-” The man began, then the Boogeyman fixed him with a hard gaze.

“We do not exist,” He said, voice low.“It must be so. I was never here, and neither were they.”

“What if they come back?” The child said suddenly.

“Then so shall I,” The Boogeyman said

The Boogeyman turned and started to walk back down the hall, toward the closet, toward his way home.

“Wait!” Said the man.

The Boogeyman paused.

“Thank you,” He said.

The Boogeyman said nothing. He simply moved on. . .

Inside the closet, the darkness was as complete as it had been during the night. Outside, the sun shone brightly through the window, and voices rang through the halls as two adults struggled to convince the authorities that, somehow, a wild animal had found its way into their home during the night.

Only the child spoke the truth. Only the young boy whose life had been saved spoke of what had really happened.

“It was the Boogeyman!” He said.“He came out of my closet and fought the monsters that live under my bed!”

It was the truth. But it would not be accepted.

The Boogeyman didn’t mind. One day, the child would come to see this as little more than a hallucination, a fantasy concocted in a fit of terror. That was good. It would be better that way.

The bodies of the slain Raa’nok had been pulled out into the backyard and left in the open, to be burnt away by the light of the rising sun. No evidence remained, save for the blood, and even now, that was being burnt away by the light, rendered down into ashes and scattered in the wind.

The threat remained, of course. The Raa’nok were a tenacious, stubborn race. They would continue with these horrible, midnight raids, and sometimes they would succeed. But so long as there remained at least one Zaa’zau Boogeyman, they would not do so unchallenged. The surface belonged to man, and it must remain that way.

The Boogeyman closed his eyes, sparing one last thought for the people he was leaving behind.

This battle was over, and the call of his distant, underground home was ringing loud in his ears.

The Boogeyman smiled as the old, dark magic carried him away from the world of man, through the darkness in the closet and out of the reach of the sun.

The smell of arterial earth filled his nostrils, and the trickle of underground streams filled his ears.

He smiled. . .

END