Every night, he hides underneath his blankets, pretending to be away. It comes to his room at night. Heavy footsteps heave down the hall and with each step his heart pounds out of control suffocating him with its pressure. The door creaks open and he holds his breath. 

    A dark lanky figure with long sharp fingers, a big smile, and golden eyes trudges in. It hovers over his bed and he could smell the dried blood from its body and the wooden floors burn due to its drool made of cyanide. If it doesn’t see him, hear him, it leaves. It is blind but its ears are awake. If it hears him, it drags him out of bed and carves into his skin, drawing red water while muttering the words, “Marikou, Marikou.”

Monster, Monster.