On a hot and humid I met something wicked. I was lucky enough to not have been killed by it, but it’ll forever be ingrained in my mind. That night, again, was a hot and humid one regardless of the two fans I had going. I tossed and turned trying to get comfortable enough to sleep in this heat. I couldn’t, but my love that slept next to me did. Soundly I might say.

 

It was three in the morning as I stared up at the dark abyss of a ceiling contemplating on whether I should just stay up or continue to figure out how to cool off. The idea to sleep on the floor hit me as soon as I stood up and felt the coolness at my feet. In a rush, I got a blanket and pillow to lay on the hardwood floor in hopes of having a peaceful sleep.

 

Sleep hit me instantaneously after I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I was asleep, but I was pulled out from my slumber by some scratching noises in front of me. Facing underneath my bed, I open my eyes and what I saw next took away any scream I could have produced. It was staring right at it was trying to climb out of the darkness.

 

Long sharp nails scraped my floors as it kept attempting to pull itself up. It got frantic once it realized that I could see it, and started scratching the floor like crazy trying to get to me. This low wailing noise accompanied the other sounds it was making. It almost sounded like a cry for help. That sound made me reach out a hand to pull it up.

 

I instantly regretted such a decision because it’s razor sharp teeth bit into my hand as its snake like tongue lapped up the spilt blood. Its grip was so tight I felt the blood gushing from the wound. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I didn’t have long to think about it though. Luckily I always sleep with a switchblade beside me. I quickly overcame my terror as I stabbed it to let me go.

 

The shriek it let out will be one I’ll never forget. It’s like the sound is now etched into my memory and soul. The thing disappeared back into the darkness underneath my bed, but not before smiling at me.

 

I got up and quickly cleaned my wound got back in the bed. It was only when my lover asked me what was wrong did I realize that I no longer have a voice.

 

Some of this is part of a true story. The true part is that it was a humid night with my love next to me. I was hot so I did sleep on the floor that night. Fortunately, I slept safe and soundly and I can still speak. But this story did come to me as I laid on the floor staring underneath my bed thinking about what I would do if I saw something or if something grabbed me. I’ll just blame my over active imagination here on the heat. Hope you enjoyed my little story. – Grim

 

 

Image: Flickr

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