It began with the sound like that of a cat walking about Hayley’s house – except she didn’t own a cat. The soft thud of footsteps on the wooden floor irritated her. Her neighbourhood had a very visible rat problem and she had seen enough of them to realise one had now made home in her house. The unnaturally cold weather was forcing them to seek shelter.

The ratcatcher visited and placed traps about the place. They were adroitly avoided.

Hayley noticed that the rats hadn’t appeared to have caused any damage either. When she mentioned this to the returning ratcatcher he was concerned.

“You might have a nest of Creepies somewhere,” The elderly man warned. “If you swear you ain’t got no cat nor seen no rat it’s all it could be.”

Hayley smirked contemptuously. “A nest of what?”

“Creepies. Little things they are but harmless they aint. They must know you live on your own and -“

She interrupted him angrily. “You need to fuck off out of my house!”

The ratcatcher shrugged his bony shoulders. “Your choice,” he muttered as he left. “Only trying to help.”

That night, Hayley awoke to the sound of her bedroom door creaking open. Half-asleep she reached for the lamp. The shock of light illuminated the shadow of something small as it darted out of the room.

Hayley screamed. Then she calmed herself down. The fucking old ratcatcher had freaked her out. Fucking Creepies. It was just a rat.

She was too frightened to go back to sleep and so the following morning called other pest controllers in the area. When she gave her name and address they all put the phone down or gave excuses.

Curiosity got the better of her so she searched online for any references to the Creepies. Nothing. Hayley was annoyed at herself for even believing in such bullshit.

Despite this, she decided to get her own ratcatcher: a snarling old tomcat called Spartacus.

As night fell, Hayley climbed into bed. Spartacus laid at the bottom, staring intensely at the bedroom door. Ten pages of ‘Lud-in-the-Mist’ and Hayley fell asleep.

At two am she was awoken by the bedroom door creaking open again. Spartacus leaped off the bed and ran into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind him.

Hayley turned her bedside lamp on to see a group of ragged, thumb-sized creatures at the end of the bed. They had harsh faces with gaping, toothless mouths. They moved up the bed expertly, whistling an odd tune.

Reflexively, she kicked out but the Creepies dodged every hostile movement. Outside, she could hear Spartacus scratching at the door trying to get in.

Then the tune increased in speed and she found herself fighting less and less. She went stiff.

One of the Creepies climbed onto her face, forcing her mouth open with a lolly stick.

“Family cold,” it said. “Family need somewhere warm to stay until winter passes.”

Hayley saw the skinny, shivering children climbing in first.

Licking their lips.