A BED TIME STORY

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“BED TIME STORY”

Celebration of Dysfunction

A Short Fiction

David A. Archer

02/15/1968

09/10/2006

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A BED TIME STORY – Short Fiction

The shadow seemed always to loom at the door.

It always appeared long after all were in bed, and

the house was entirely quiet.

I can’t recall any sound ever accompanying it as it

stained the carpet beneath my closed doorway. It was

always lit from some source I could never find in all of

my attempts and searches in daylight hours.

I think back on it, and it wasn’t the darkness that

I found scary – It was a form of light that I now see

was terrifying – that light which carried the ominous

shadow from where ever it came and where ever it

always returned to.

Hiding under the blankets was never any use, as

it was always of the gravest importance to keep an eye

on that shadow.

And further, hiding under the

blankets only would serve to make a person an easier

victim under some axe blade or other hideous

implement which the horrific apparition may have

chosen to wield at the slightest opportunity.

I was no dummy.

I always expected a growl or moan – some

terrifying sound described in so many stories as being

monster like – but, it was always just silent. Deathly

silent. Silent and still as I watched it from my bed,

beneath the door, just knowing quite psychically – that

should I stop watching it sway for even an instant, it

would immediately gain entry and spirit me away in

some bloody fray – or perhaps simply consume me

where I lay, leaving only stains and bones with

dangling strips of flesh where once was my living,

breathing body.

I bravely decided to try and identify it one night

through guessing at just what could cast such a

shadow in silence, from its own light source no less?

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A BED TIME STORY – Short Fiction

I guessed to myself, “could it be a serpent

bringing evils from even the dawn of time? It couldn’t

be” I thought, “the shadow itself, is far too wide.”

“Might it be a troll? Might it be a goblin?”

“No.” None of these things stood to reason and

even less to the attributes of what ever this

monstrosity could be.

I even sensed that the monster in the closet would

have nothing to do with stirring in the night, nor the

collection of them beneath my bed – so long as that

shadow loomed at the door.

One night I recall in particular shot terror

through me that is yet un-matched.

My parents had failed to latch the door securely

as they exited my room – and I, ever trusting, didn’t

even think to check it.

It was latched so precariously that as fate would

have it, even the gentle and silent appearance of the

ominous shadow moved it from its closed position –

sounding a loud “CLICK” as the spring loaded bolt

found freedom in the crack now between the door and

the wall. It must have echoed through all of existence

and eternity!

I gasped for breath horrified and convinced that

with the light streaming in, the shadow – and what

ever was making the shadow would soon follow.

Bringing with them my immediate end in this world!

Perhaps even because of my own fear killing me before

whatever the monstrous apparition could deal, befell

me.

I held my breath, and even wanted to cry for help

through the clinching terror gripping the entire world.

But found no ability to do so.

What is more, and making it all the worse in

sustaining the effect, is that nothing happened. Only

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A BED TIME STORY – Short Fiction

more silence and the continued sway and stillness of

that shadow beneath the door ajar, with nothing

between us except the sheer terror which by now, IT

must have felt as well.

I didn’t move for the next several hours.

I may not have even drawn a breath.

Not an eyelash was distracted from that shadow

under the doorway until the dawn came, and with it

the light which wisped the shadow away.

The dog barked and bolted through the door as it

did every morning after exiting my parents’ room,

where it slept.

We had our normal exchange though admittedly

with far less enthusiasm on my part, as I considered

whether or not to finally divulge this apparition to my

parents. Then after some moments, I finally decided

to do so.

I sat at the morning table being all as quiet as

ever.

The newspaper extended where my father sat

behind it, and my mother was now leaning over a hot

cup of liquid.

“I have something I should tell you two” I began

hesitantly. “There is this really creepy shadow that

shows up outside of my door at night…..” I started in

with a meek tone.

“We know” said my father still faceless behind the

news print, then joined in statement almost

automatically from my mother still not having looked

up from her beverage; “Why do you think the dog

sleeps with us?” she said quite un-concerned.

Then my father again spoke, “It used to scare

your older brother, too” he said without looking from

the news, “but of course, you didn’t even know you had

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A BED TIME STORY – Short Fiction

an older brother” he continued and then again fell

quiet. Showing as much lack of concern as had my

mother.

“We forgot to close the door until it latched all the

way, one night” added my mother in a somber tone,

“...and it ate him.”