For weeks now, the sweet solace of sleep has eluded you. Rest has been stolen by a relentless string of nightmares, each more vivid and ghastly than the last. The terrors have grown so intense that waking hours are haunted by phantoms—twisted illusions of so-called ‘monsters.’

One such creature distinguished itself from the others. Unlike the grotesque, animalistic forms of its kin, this figure was lean, almost elegant in its slender frame. Night after night, it lingered at the edge of your perception, peering through the narrow slit of your closet door. Its eternal, unnerving grin stretched impossibly wide, revealing teeth that gleamed with malice beneath piercing, unblinking eyes.

But tonight was different. Tendrils, black as shadow striped with pure white, slithered from the crack of the closet door, curling like serpents across the floor. The door creaked open slowly, as though savoring the moment, revealing the creature once more. Its smile—hideous and eternal—seemed to broaden as it emerged. Step by step, it advanced toward you, its movements deliberate, almost ritualistic. Finally, it spoke, its voice fractured, trembling with unnatural cadence:

“Ahh… fear n-not, my chi-child-! I… I am your… frie-friend-!”

The stuttered words slithered into the air, a cruel mockery of reassurance. The creature loomed at the edge of your bed, its tendrils coiling tightly around the frame like a predator claiming its prey. Its head twisted to one side, the motion jagged and wrong, a grotesque mimicry of curiosity.

“Do-do you allow… me to… to join yo-you?”

It inquired, the question drenched in a disconcerting sincerity as it tilted its head back to its original position. And there it waited, still as death, for your answer.