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1
The monster was back again, standing tall and towering in the doorway. Most people would scream or cover their eyes, but I knew it was pointless.
Only I could see him.
That tall, slender shadow blocked the exit, its red eyes glowing as horns protruded from its head. Its spindly arms were outstretched, leaving no room for escape.
“I’m guessing no work today then,” I said coolly, annoyed since I’d just made my lunch too.
If he was blocking the door, then there was no leaving the house today. Standard procedure. Trying to get past him would result in him shrieking at me and clawing my arms. The gashes healed quickly, in mere minutes, although no one else ever saw them.
Just like they didn’t see the four monsters that terrorized me.
The monster just stared at me, watching me with those burning crimson eyes as I sighed and dumped my bag on the shitty couch.
“Fuck you, mate,” I growled as I collapsed on my crappy blue couch. I played with the hole in the arm, the frayed threads frustrating me.
I barely earned enough to afford this rental. And taking days off like this had already lost me a few jobs.
What was I meant to do though? Ring up and tell them the truth? ‘Oh, you know, the monster won’t let me leave the house today. Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it, he’s been around since my mother died. Not just him, there’s three others. No, I’m not crazy, I swear.’
I blew a raspberry at this.
Hell, maybe I was crazy and seeing things.
Schizophrenia.
Maybe triggered by my mother’s death. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to go and get diagnosed. Did anyone really ever want to find out that they were, in fact, insane? Hell no. At least not me.
I flicked my eyes to the monster still blocking the doorway, all imposing and dicky.
“You suck, you know that, right?” I muttered.
He just growled softly and crossed his arms, not budging an inch.
I’d named him Jack. Short for Jackass.
To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if he was a he, but judging by the way they all acted, I assumed they were all guys.
Only guys were such tools and so frustrating.
I pulled out my phone, ignoring the massive crack across my screen as I shot a text to my boss, informing him I was sick.
“You know, I’m going to end up on the streets because of you guys,” I groaned as I lolled my head back on the couch cushion.
Well, a day off from tolerating dickheads in the McDonald’s drive-thru wasn’t something to be upset about.
Fast food. That was the only kind of job I could get now, and if these assholes kept up with keeping me from leaving the house, I’d struggle with even that.
I heard some shuffling, and I looked over to the kitchen doorway, finding Chumley hovering there. He was smaller than Jack, his horns thicker and more curled, and he was sturdier and more built.
He hung around the kitchen mostly, and I’d grown used to seeing them all around my house. Never speaking, just grunting or growling. My monsters.
My mother died when I was just fourteen, and that was when they’d first appeared.
I never really knew why, but strangely, I found their presence comforting. Not many people would say that about shadowy monsters that plagued their existence.
But I always felt oddly at ease with them. Except Jack. He was the main prick, barring me from leaving the house. And he was the only one who ever hurt me. Clawing my arms when I fought against him.
