posted on Oct, 28 2004 @ 08:32 PM
In an average room in an average house in an average neighborhood, one like even you or I might live, there was a little boy named Billy. Billy had
the usual kind of friends and all the popular toys and even wore the typical style of clothing for someone his age. Perhaps Billy even shops where you
and I shop.
However, late one night little Billy had a very disturbing problem. It seems as though a Bogeyman was squatting in his closet and refused to leave no
matter how much Billy begged and pleaded. In fact, his anxiety and fear appeared to provide sustenance for this vile creature. It was almost as if
Billy could hear the beast’s mass expanding within the closet. The drowning sound of space gasping for air accompanied by the sickening slaps of moist
flesh against the closet walls. This was not a good sign, but as you know the violent fluctuation of semi-rotting meat is never an omen of candy and
Billy cried out time and time again for his father to evict the monster from the closet, but every time his father opened the closet door there was
nothing to be shown. This was certainly one tricky Bogeyman. One must give him that praise if nothing else.
“Billy there is nothing in there! Is this one of your imaginary friends again? Perhaps that Eric fellow you are always blaming things on?” The father
“No! No! I swear he was in there just a moment ago and I think he wants to do bad things to me. He has three steaming eyes and they all hate me!”
Billy’s father tucked him in once more and told him to go to sleep completely unaware and seemingly uncaring of the menace lurking within the
As soon as Billy’s father left the room, the Bogeyman reappeared from the shadows and began to consume little Billy’s toys. First his toy cars that
met their end with a crunch and next his action figures that were destroyed with even less resistance. Their little guns and ninja accessories could
not save them, but at least Billy could live with the reassurance that they put up a valiant fight. Not like his sister’s dolls because dolls are
stupid and come with dresses where as Action Figures are cool and come with tanks and missiles.
Upon filling his stomach with shards of metal wheels and plastic arms, the Bogeyman perched upon the end of the bed and gurgled hungrily at Billy with
those three hate-filled eyes. Its chicken-like talons dug into the footboard of the bed, which could never support the Bogeyman’s weight on its own.
That is not to say that it had an obesity problem because as we all know it is not wise to tease a monster about his girth, but rather that it was
actually supporting itself with a large striped kangaroo-like tail. To complete the Bogeyman’s ensemble, his torso was cloaked in thick shaggy hair,
which gave way to stubby lobster claws that protruded more from his chest then his shoulders. Now when I refer to the Bogeyman as a Him, I really
should specify that not all Bogeymen are male. It is just that Bogeymen are very PC and one really has to watch what one says about things like gender
or obesity or, god forbid, the shortness of one’s striped kangaroo-like tail.
It was at this moment that the wretched creature finally spoke for the first time.
“I am going to gnaw on your tender toes for an appetizer, suck out your meaty innards with my twisty straw as a main course and lick up your brains
like pudding! Maybe I will even save your chickeny fingers as a leftover to make a nice sandwich out of for lunch tomorrow.”
Just as Billy was about to scream in the hope that his father would finally come to save him, a thick, black fog seeped into the room from the
windowpane and floated under his bed. Within seconds a lumpy, grayish object violently flung itself from under that same bed and crashed against the
adjacent wall. Both Billy and the Bogeyman stared in puzzlement at the fleshy mass that now writhed in the coroner of the room.
Suddenly the dark figure took form and lunged at the Bogeyman. With one gaping expanse of this jaw, the strange creature bit off the Bogeyman’s head
and swallowed it whole. The headless body of the night terror slumped to the floor in an oozing mass. Billy kept to the safety of his bed as the
second monster stood before him drenched in the blood of his adversary; a truly frightening sight for the likes of you or I. It flexed its massive
mouth to expose a multitude of barbwire like teeth stained by chunks of flesh and bone. In fact, this demon’s head was more mouth then cranium. A
gruesome sight that peered through a pair of black raisin-like eyes which seemed to sink inward.
In an uncontrollable urge little Billy cried out…..
“Eric! Where were you? That monster nearly got me!”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a bus to this part of town after dark”, Eric the demon questioned with a scowl to his massive lips. “Calm
down! Calm down! I’ll read you a story to help you get to sleep. Just do me a favor and tell your mom that mess on the floor is from the dog.”
So Eric put on his thick reading glasses, sat in the nearby chair and began to read Billy a book called The Ghost Who Thought I Was A Ghost. It
is an old story that I think most of us have heard before perhaps even on a night like tonight. A night where the average monsters go about their
average business. A night that you and even I may have had many times before.