Under the covers, the monsters can‘t get you.

It‘s something every single child knows intuitively. If you hide every single piece of your body, and don‘t look, a monster born from the dark can‘t grab you.

Adults, they forget about this simple rule, but most monsters have very sensitive taste buds. The older a person, with more life experience, the more bitter the taste of their fear. But young ones… They taste fresh. Sweet. Unburdened.

Alex here is not sleeping. She can‘t, with me around. I lurk around her room, slowly, silently, tasting her succulent fear with each step, as it fills the air. It‘s driving me mad, but I can‘t touch her. She is fully under her covers, hiding from the dark, hiding from me.

She never saw me, when I hid in her closet last night, or when I sneaked under her bed the night before that. Yet she knows. These children always do.

Her parents don‘t feel me, as hard and brittle as they are from their years of living. Little Alex here is all alone. Except for me.

But I don‘t make for good company.

She started crying a little while ago, quiet sobs, which almost make me lose control. The fear spreading everywhere makes my appetite grow, oh so much. This is the most important part. I creep, right back out of her room.

I always pick my victims carefully, those that ask questions. Those that look at the world with bright eyes, trying to look at every single thing. The curious children. I make my presence known. I give them a taste of everything that I am. I drive them mad with fear.

I‘m standing in the hallway, looking through a crack in the door, directly at the shaking covers.

And when they can‘t stand it anymore… I give them hope. Hope that I left. Other children, those who are not so curious, they just fall asleep, still in the safety of their bed, hidden from me. The ones who need to know though…

The blankets shift and now, a pair of blue, wet eyes is looking directly at me.

Got you.