Midnight Snack

For a brief moment, David thought it was the pills’ fault that he’d woken up. They’d done their job well for the past couple weeks, but he had learned to expect an incident every so often. On most nights, it was nothing more than muscle memory, and sleep would come back to him before he knew it. Sometimes, though, the nightmares were simply too much, and he’d be left staring at his bedroom door until his eyelids finally gave out. David couldn’t remember having dreamt at all, so it must have been business as usual. He shoved his face back into his pillow, wondering when his last full night’s rest even was.

It was the familiar prickle on the back of his neck that snapped him out of his haze. He froze, doing his best to relax his body despite every fiber of it screaming at him to look up, to see where his goosebumps were coming from. He didn’t have to. He knew what he was going to see. An open door, and 12:00 AM on his clock. It had come back.

“where is it”

David’s fingers dug deeper into his sheets. He hadn’t left the offering by the door. He didn’t know why he hadn’t, it was stupid to even consider disobeying it again, but hope had gotten the better of him. Maybe the worst was over. Maybe it had moved on to someone else, and where he put it didn’t even matter. He kept quiet, some part of him still wanting to deny the truth. If he just didn’t give it what it wanted, maybe it would leave him alone….

“David”

The shock forced him upright. That was Kyle’s voice. It was a strained, angry whisper, and yet it was unmistakably Kyle. He squinted, doing his best to tease out a shape from the black abyss of his hallway. If he didn’t know any better, he might have run straight into it, just for the slim chance of finding his friend amidst the shadows. He did know better, though. He’d seen Kyle’s body.

“David, where is it”

David felt everything crash into him at once. The screams, the tears, the questions, the blood…they’d all chosen the worst time to bubble to the surface. He grit his teeth and swallowed the sobs that threatened to break out of him. He couldn’t panic. If he panicked, his parents might hear, and then they’d get hurt. Kyle was just a warning, and that thing was making sure he had taken it to heart. It was testing him.

David took in a sharp breath. He wasn’t going to panic. His doctor had told him what to do in times like this. He felt his heart crash against his chest as he counted to ten, and then slowly, carefully, exhaled. There was no point in pretending things would go back to normal. Accepting his fate was the only option left.

“It’s under my bed,” he whispered. “I didn’t put it off this time. I just…didn’t know if you’d be back.”

It was the truth, but each second without a response forced David to realize just how little it would help him. A simple mistake was better than outright defiance, but he had still broken the rules. Not only was there no guarantee his punishment would be any less severe, he had put himself directly in harm’s way. If it wanted that offering, it would have to enter his room. Either that, or he’d be forced to….

“bring it here”

David’s breath caught in his throat. He counted to ten, then slowly exhaled. A dull calmness washed over him as he peeled the blanket off his body. He barely realized he was out of bed until the stench of the shoebox hit his nostrils.

Even as he kept marching forward, he couldn’t keep his feet from dragging. Nothing was stopping it from taking him alongside the box. Every step he took could be his last. He tore his gaze away from the door, desperate to find some sort of comfort in his surroundings. His Spelling Bee trophy, the toys on his shelf, the family photo he’d hung on the wall. They were nothing but vague outlines, shadows that were too faint to make out. He was going to die in darkness.

His blood ran cold. Breathe in. He wondered if it would be quick, or if his suffering would be dragged out as long as possible. Count to ten. He imagined his parents’ anguished cries as they found their son’s corpse, mangled beyond recognition. Exhale. Tears streamed down his face. Breathe in. This was all his fault, he should’ve just done what he was told. Count to ten. He couldn’t protect his family, he couldn’t protect himself, he couldn’t protect anyone. Breathe. Breathe.

David set the box down in front of his door.

A thin, gnarled hand emerged from around the corner, snatching its prize from sight. David was so close that he could hear every delicate squelch of flesh and crunch of bone, but he didn’t dare try to catch a glimpse. When its feast finally ended, the silence was somehow just as unbearable. He sniffled out small breaths, no longer able to make it to ten. He could feel its eyes on him.

“bring me something bigger next time”

The door closed, and the air instantly felt much warmer. It was gone.

It took a few minutes for David to come back to reality, and even longer to fully process what had just happened. It had spared him. He was alive, and if he wanted to stay that way, he’d have to find larger offerings. He slowly turned around, taking a cautious step back towards his bed. He’d already failed this task before, but he would have to do better this time. There had to be a forest he could hike through, or a road he hadn’t checked. Dogs get hit by cars all the time, maybe he’d be able to….

David violently retched, his legs no longer able to support him. Bright stars danced around him as burning liquid filled his mouth. He shuddered and twitched on his carpet for what felt like an eternity before he felt something begin to creep back up his neck. He looked up, and was blinded by light. It was his parents.

They were asking him something about the vomit, about why he was out of bed, trying to make sure he was okay. David wasn’t thinking about what they were telling him though. He was thinking about everything he should be telling them. He knew what really happened to Kyle. It wasn’t just his death that kept him from sleeping properly. All he had to do was say something, and they would help him in any way they could. Maybe they’d even be able to kill that thing.

But he couldn’t. It had told him so the first time it came to him. Tell anyone, and you will regret it. He’d already broken the rules twice, he couldn’t risk breaking another. He couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly, “I think I just need to get used to the pills.”