It’s lonely in the dark.
The odd rumbling of an occasional distant car, the gurgling buzz from the refridgerator, and the deep breathing and snuffling of my companion are the only noises.
A gentle movement, a leg quickly retracted against the chill of the night.
I stand guard as always but the monsters are few these days. I’ve heard tales of nights full of them, each nook and cranny holding a new and terrifying sight. My sisters say the monsters only pick on the smaller ones, or maybe I’ve just been lucky. Either way it’s been a long long time since I saw one.
The last time was a while ago. It was a night like many others, the evening rituals the same and it wasn’t long before we descended into the familiar silence. The first realisation that anything was wrong was when my companion suddenly flinched, his body twitching violently beneath me. He cried out, a soft moan full of dread.
I did what I could to comfort him but no matter how I folded myself round him he pushed me away. I checked the room again and again but no monsters appeared; I do wish he would close the wardrobe door properly though, that’s just asking for trouble.
I’m glad the monsters seem to have gone away now, that those nights are few. It wasn’t always this way.
A gentle melody trills out and a faint glow washes the ceiling. He moves, his arm snakes out into the cold air as he groggily reaches around for the noise. It falls silent and the arm recoils. He falls still again.
A few minutes later the melody calls out once more. He moves again, twisting his torso to look more animated this time and the music stops.
He falls back, eyes opening and, with a heavy sigh and slow movements, he throws me back and leaves.
I watch as he goes, feeling the heat from his body escaping into the room and know that I will see him again soon.