The creature first came when I was 7. It was the night of my birthday, and I had just gotten Barry the Bear that day. He had soft, thick fur, big black eyes and a wide smile, with just a hint of fangs showing through. Daddy asked me what I thought of him as I held him close for the first time.”Very bear-y.” I said.
Well, actually, it came out more like “Barry Barry.” Everyone laughed, Pop-pop took pictures, and my newest friend got his name.
I took Barry to bed with me that night. It was after Pop-pop left and Mommy and Daddy went to bed that the creature came. I woke up to a rustling coming from the window. There, in the shadows cast by the moonlight I saw a claw pushing its way through the curtains, slow and steady.
My heart jumped into my throat and all semblance of sleepiness left me. I grabbed for Barry to protect me, after all, a bear can kill a monster, can’t it? But Barry was no-where to be found. As I looked around frantically, afraid to move lest I trigger a sudden rush of the beast in the window, I could see that my bedroom door stood ajar. In the crack, I could see Barry. In one furry paw, he held one of Mommy’s kitchen knives.
He was looking at me with his big black eyes. His smile seemed wider than I remembered. But then the beast brushed against my nightstand, making a small sound. Barry’s eyes snapped to the beast, and he let out a quiet snarl that -even though he was there to save me- sent a little shiver up my spine.Barry rushed the beast, but before they collided, I broke loose from my fright just enough to pull the covers over my head. I heard them fight, Barry snarling that vicious snarl, and the beast huffing like a cow at the petting zoo.
I stayed that way until everything went quiet, and then I peeked out. There was no sign of Barry or the beast. I quickly leapt out of bed and ran to Mommy and Daddy’s room. The next morning, Mommy found Barry underneath the bed, under a heavy book.
As time passed, the nighttime battles became common. Every night, it started the same way. Barry in the door with a knife, and the beast, creeping through my window. Eventually, I learned to sleep through them. The only thing that changed was where I’d find Barry. Sometimes under the bed, sometimes in the dirty clothes hamper, sometimes in my closet. Once I found him stuffed under my dresser. But each time, he was underneath something heavy. I never though too much about why that was. I only loved Barry for protecting me from the beast.
One night, when I was 11, I spilled spaghetti sauce on Barry at dinner. My mom took him to put him in the wash. I begged and pleaded, but to no avail. She said I could go one night without him.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed, dreading the approach of the beast, until finally I heard it scratching at the window. I watched it slide its gangly bulk inside, and when it finally straightened out above my bed, I felt my bladder let go.
“Where issss the creature?” It hissed. Its voice sounded like the grave; cold and breathless.I could not reply. Fear had taken my voice. The beast stared at me, with its smoking red eyes. “Quickly, child. There issss little time. Where issss the bear?”
“Muh-muh-muh…” I stammered. “M-mommy put him in the wash.” I don’t know why I answered the beast truthfully. I think I was simply too scared to lie. The beast nodded its wolf-like head at that, then leaned over me. “I will sssssssshow you the truth, child. You will ssssssee with your own eyessss.”
The beast hunched down, tucking itself under my desk. And there it waited, for what seemed like hours. As I began to wonder if the beast meant to attack me at the break of dawn, I head the creak of my bedroom door opening.
There was Barry. Wet and dripping, the same knife in his hand. I started to feel a rush of relief, except… Something was different. The smile which always seemed wider when he smiled at me before his battles looked… Sinister. Barry peered all around the room, but did not spot the beast, in the shadows under my desk. When he was satisfied that we were alone, he leapt quickly up onto my bed. My tension heightened, and I began to tremble.
“I’ve waited far too long to do this, boy.” Barry’s voice was deep and gravelly, not at all like the friendly tone I’d imagined. He walked up and perched on my chest, staring into my eyes. “I’m glad you can be awake for this. It’s so much better when they understand what’s happening.” Barry’s smile grew wider still, and I whimpered as he raised the knife up.
Just then, long black claws wrapped around the blade and plucked it from Barry’s hand. Barry grunted and spun, finally realizing his mistake.”Thisssss life issss yoursssss, child. May I have it?” The beast’s voice seemed eager, and somehow tired. I stammered back, “wh-wha?”
“For too long, you have ssssuffered hissss attackssss. But hissss life isssss yoursss to keep, or give away. I asssssk you for it.”
I don’t think I really thought it through. I was scared and confused. “Will you protect me?” I asked the beast, stupidly. But the answer I got was not what I expected. “Alwaysssss. Forever.”
“Okay.”
With that, the beast snatched Barry to it and ripped him apart in a flurry of fur, stuffing and Barry’s quiet screams. When it was finished, the beast gathered up all the pieces and stuffed them down into the bottom of the trash can. My breathing had finally returned to normal when I felt the bed creak, and saw the beast step onto the foot of it. It curled itself up into a tight little ball, the only feature of which was the baleful smoke rising from its closed eyes. “Ssssssleep now, child. You are ssssssafe.”
With that, I finally understood what had been happening, these past four years. I relaxed and closed my eyes, and did not wake until the morning.
The next night, I woke up around midnight to go to the bathroom, and there was the beast, curled up at the foot of my bed. It opened one eye to observe me. “If you ssssscream, I will come.” It said. And then it closed its eye. I went to the bathroom and got back into bed, and for the first time in four years, I truly felt safe at night.