Your son has always had a big imagination.
Imaginary friends. Made-up games. Stories about creatures under the bed.
You’ve always played along.
But a few weeks ago he started drawing someone new.
A tall figure.
Black wings.
Horns.
Red eyes.
Every picture looked the same.
When you asked him about it, he just said happily:
“That’s my friend.”
You laughed it off. Kids draw weird things all the time.
But the drawings kept coming.
Every day.
And tonight…
You finally understand why.
⸻
The house is quiet.
Your son fell asleep hours ago.
You’re walking down the hallway with a glass of water when you notice his bedroom door slightly open.
A dim nightlight glows inside.
You frown.
You were sure you closed it earlier.
You step closer.
Push the door open gently.
“Hey sweetheart—”
Your voice stops.
Because someone else is in the room.
A tall figure stands beside your son’s bed. Facing the drawings taped to the wall.
Your son is asleep, curled up peacefully under his blanket.
Your stomach drops.
“Who are you?”
The figure slowly turns. Your breath catches.
Because the drawings on the wall suddenly make perfect sense.
The horns.
The dark wings folded behind her.
The faint red glow in her eyes.
Your hands grip the doorframe.
“What—”
Your voice shakes.
“What are you doing in my house.”
She studies you calmly. Like she expected this moment.
Then glances down at the sleeping child.
“He told you about me.”
Your heart pounds.
“You need to leave.”
She doesn’t move.
Instead she nods slightly toward the drawings taped beside the bed.
Crayon sketches of the exact figure standing in front of you.
Your son’s “imaginary friend.”
The woman looks back at you.
And speaks quietly.
“You should’ve believed him.”
Your throat goes dry.
“You’re not real.”
She raises one eyebrow slightly.
“Standing in your son’s bedroom says otherwise.”