The creaking was simply the house settling. The light scratching was just some squirrel outside searching for food. There was nothing to be afraid of in the house, as both parents had exasperatedly explained. There certainly were no monsters.

Not in the closet, where no door hid any potential creepy creatures of the night. It was open, though dark in the dead of night. The clothes morphed into a sight that sometimes seemed to almost breathe, the hangers glinting in the brief moonlight to almost appear as eyes. Beneath the bed, checked under every night, was meant to be nothing -- save for a few boxes, shoved below as storage. Nothing could fit beneath it.

Still, in the dead of that night, sleep escaped. Silence buzzed in the darkness, as every little object seemed to morph into a creature. Until the one near the door began to move, slowly inching closer at every brief close of the eyes. Yellow eyes glinted.