The Creature

A teenage boy stands in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth, going through his nightly routine. He says goodnight to his parents, walks down the hallway, and closes his bedroom door behind him. But as the door clicks shut, he hesitates—struck by the oppressive silence. It’s too quiet. Unease crawls up his spine, but he shakes it off, forcing himself towards his bed. He flicks on his night lamp, the dim glow barely holding back the encroaching darkness.

He climbs into bed, pulling the sheets tight around his body, cocooning himself in the only fragile layer of protection he knows. Eyes darting around the room, he checks again, as he does every night, confirming that he’s alone. Alone in the silence. The boy tries to distract himself, limiting his gaze, as if narrowing his vision might stop him from seeing what he fears most. Eventually, exhaustion overtakes him, and he drifts into sleep.

But the darkness doesn’t sleep.

From nowhere, it comes—a shadow, more than just the absence of light. A darkness that the night lamp, with all its effort, cannot touch. Slowly, it gathers mass, taking on the form of a human silhouette. A pure black figure with no features, no face. A shapeless, moving entity of shifting darkness and static noise.

It stands in the middle of the room, motionless, watching. Silent.

Time means nothing to it. When it decides to move, it moves without movement—teleporting from the center of the room to the edge of the boy’s bed in an instant. Hovering. Its face—if it could be called that—looms inches away from the sleeping boy’s face. Though featureless, its stare penetrates deep, staring into the boy’s soul.

Then, with no warning, it reaches out. A single, intangible touch. The boy jolts awake, his heart racing. The creature disappears just as quickly, vanishing into the shadows like it was never there. But the boy knows. He felt it. The cold, invasive touch. The terror rises within him, an unshakable knowing that something was there. Something close, and something that will come again.

Every night, it returns. The creature’s presence weighs heavily in the air, a shadow in the boy’s mind, feeding off his growing terror. He knows it feeds on him—on his fear, his loneliness, his weakness. The boy tries to resist, to calm himself, but each night he falls apart a little more. He feels like a beacon, signaling to the creature: Take me. I can’t fight anymore.

Weeks turn into months. Each night the boy fights sleep, but exhaustion always wins. Each night, the creature comes back, stronger, more menacing. The boy’s bedroom—once a place of safety—has become a battleground of terror, a prison of fear where no one can help him.

And then, one night, it finally happens. It seems like any other night—mundane, tiring, suffocating. But this time, the creature has grown too powerful, and the boy too weak. He wakes again to find the creature standing inches from his face. His heart stops as he stares into the void of the creature’s face, its darkness consuming every light around them.

The boy can’t move. He’s frozen in place, paralyzed by terror. The creature reaches out, touches him once again—but this time, it’s different. The boy feels his stomach twist violently as if his insides are being pulled out, turning inside-out. He looks down and sees the darkness spreading from the creature’s touch, consuming his body, dissolving him into nothing.

He tries to scream, but no sound comes. The darkness pulls him in, devouring him whole. Piece by piece, his body turns to shadow. His limbs, his face, his mind—all swallowed by the creature.

Within seconds, he is gone—nothing but a void, a new creature of darkness, standing beside the one that claimed him.

The room is silent again. No boy, no creature. Just the empty space, the faint glow of the night lamp flickering against the oppressive shadows.