[Fiction] Story #3 posted 1/11, "Glorg the Monster"
- Thread starter Number47
- Start date
Number47
First Post
Glorg the Monster
I was so pleased to see the post count rise a little and get a couple responses, it inspired me to write a new story. I just finished it two minutes ago.
_______________________
Timmy cowered on his bed. The lights were out. It was bedtime, really for real bedtime no more asking for water or waking up daddy for any reason bedtime. The door was closed. It was supposed to be open, there was supposed to be the hall light on. Mommy was away visiting grandma who was old and sick, though, and Timmy couldn’t wake up daddy again to tell him. He also couldn’t get out of bed, because there might be something under it.
There was a nightlight. It helped. It wasn’t really working too good, though, and that scared Timmy. It was the kind that was supposed to know if it was dark or light, but it kept flickering like it wasn’t really sure. Timmy curled up under the covers, afraid to close his eyes because that made the room darker. His Power Ranger pajamas were in a twist and slightly damp from perspired fear, but he couldn’t straighten them. If he made any motion, it might bring the monster out, or wake up daddy. He wasn’t sure which was more feared.
Then, as his eyes were so heavy he was nearly asleep, there was a faint ‘tick’ noise. Timmy opened his eyes wide in fear, especially because he hadn’t realized they had been closed. The nightlight was out. The room was only lit by what little light made it from the streetlamp two houses up through the tangled bones of the tree outside his window. There was definitely something moving, something breathing. Timmy made a noiseless scream and covered himself head to foot with the blanket, even though it made the air hot and stale.
Something moved. Something creaked. Timmy breathed hotly, loud in the closed confine of his blanket coffin. That noise was surely something moving under the bed. That noise sounded like something moving around on the floor. THAT noise sounded like a big, hairy beast with long sharp claws and drooling fangs and eyes the size of dinner plates leaning right over his bed and looking at him!
“Hey, kid,” a soft and low voice said next to the bed. It was the kind of voice that wanted to tell you a secret.
Timmy only managed an ‘ulp’ noise and barely held onto his bladder.
“Nice room you got here, kid,” the voice said.
“Are you a monster?” Timmy quietly whispered.
“Yeah, that’s right, kid. Everybody calls me a monster, even without getting to know me. I was under your bed until the freaking light finally went out. You know how long I been under there? You sure must not like the dark.” There was a sound of fumbling, then a grunt. “Feels good to finally stretch the old protoplasm, if you know what I mean. Eh, of course you don’t. You’re just a kid, after all.”
“Are you going to eat me?”
“You know, kid, that really ticks me off. Oh, Glorg lives under a bed and can’t come out into the light, he must be a monster,” the monster said in a bitterly sarcastic voice. “Glorg is a monster, he must eat children. You know kid, you didn’t even bother to ask my name before you started making assumptions about my basic nature. Hell, you haven’t even bother to look at me. Maybe I don’t even look like a monster, ay?”
Timmy kept the thin little blanket up over him, for what little protection that offered. “Do you have claws and fangs?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then you’re a monster.”
“Okay, kid. Point. But that doesn’t have to mean I’m bad, does it? You don’t have to hate me, you know. I got it tough enough as it is without anybody hating me. I mean, look at my life. I live under a kid’s bed. Not a very tidy kid, either, if you know what I mean. You know what I eat for dinner every night? Spiders, that’s what! And no, they aren’t a tasty treat for monsters. You should be grateful, you hate spiders. I heard you caterwauling for your mommy plenty of times when you thought you saw one. So maybe you could go a little easier on me, hey?”
“Sorry,” Timmy muttered fearfully.
“Hey, that’s better. Just you wait, old Glorg is gonna show you what kind of guy he is. I can be really nice. Really, I can be. Hey, why don’t you come out from under there and we can get acquainted like civilized people?”
“I...” Timmy felt scared, but embarrassed about it. “I don’t think I want to.”
“Hey, Timmy, you realize that it’s only a blanket you’ve got there, right? I mean, do you really think that tiny scrap of fabric is somehow holding me back? Come on kid. Get real. Just show me your face, so I know who I’m talking to. Maybe we can be pals.”
Timmy thought maybe the monster was right. What good was the blanket, after all, if he was a vicious monster. “Okay, Glorg. Just don’t do anything scary.”
“Hey, kid. Trust me, okay?”
Timmy lowered the blanket down to get a glimpse of Glorg. Having waited for just that moment, Glorg quickly seized Timmy’s head in his huge, taloned paw and yanked Timmy out of bed, holding him before his fanged snout and inspecting him with dinner plate sized eyes.
“You said you were nice! You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”
“Actually, kid. I never said I was nice or wouldn’t hurt you. I merely accused you of thinking that I wasn’t. You shouldn’t have let down the blanket, kid. Tough luck, so long.” With that, Glorg tossed Timmy up and swallowed him in one gulp. Sweeping up a couple of spiders to take along, he crept back under the bed, back into the dark world, and waited for another child’s bed to open up to him, humming to himself.
I was so pleased to see the post count rise a little and get a couple responses, it inspired me to write a new story. I just finished it two minutes ago.
_______________________
Timmy cowered on his bed. The lights were out. It was bedtime, really for real bedtime no more asking for water or waking up daddy for any reason bedtime. The door was closed. It was supposed to be open, there was supposed to be the hall light on. Mommy was away visiting grandma who was old and sick, though, and Timmy couldn’t wake up daddy again to tell him. He also couldn’t get out of bed, because there might be something under it.
There was a nightlight. It helped. It wasn’t really working too good, though, and that scared Timmy. It was the kind that was supposed to know if it was dark or light, but it kept flickering like it wasn’t really sure. Timmy curled up under the covers, afraid to close his eyes because that made the room darker. His Power Ranger pajamas were in a twist and slightly damp from perspired fear, but he couldn’t straighten them. If he made any motion, it might bring the monster out, or wake up daddy. He wasn’t sure which was more feared.
Then, as his eyes were so heavy he was nearly asleep, there was a faint ‘tick’ noise. Timmy opened his eyes wide in fear, especially because he hadn’t realized they had been closed. The nightlight was out. The room was only lit by what little light made it from the streetlamp two houses up through the tangled bones of the tree outside his window. There was definitely something moving, something breathing. Timmy made a noiseless scream and covered himself head to foot with the blanket, even though it made the air hot and stale.
Something moved. Something creaked. Timmy breathed hotly, loud in the closed confine of his blanket coffin. That noise was surely something moving under the bed. That noise sounded like something moving around on the floor. THAT noise sounded like a big, hairy beast with long sharp claws and drooling fangs and eyes the size of dinner plates leaning right over his bed and looking at him!
“Hey, kid,” a soft and low voice said next to the bed. It was the kind of voice that wanted to tell you a secret.
Timmy only managed an ‘ulp’ noise and barely held onto his bladder.
“Nice room you got here, kid,” the voice said.
“Are you a monster?” Timmy quietly whispered.
“Yeah, that’s right, kid. Everybody calls me a monster, even without getting to know me. I was under your bed until the freaking light finally went out. You know how long I been under there? You sure must not like the dark.” There was a sound of fumbling, then a grunt. “Feels good to finally stretch the old protoplasm, if you know what I mean. Eh, of course you don’t. You’re just a kid, after all.”
“Are you going to eat me?”
“You know, kid, that really ticks me off. Oh, Glorg lives under a bed and can’t come out into the light, he must be a monster,” the monster said in a bitterly sarcastic voice. “Glorg is a monster, he must eat children. You know kid, you didn’t even bother to ask my name before you started making assumptions about my basic nature. Hell, you haven’t even bother to look at me. Maybe I don’t even look like a monster, ay?”
Timmy kept the thin little blanket up over him, for what little protection that offered. “Do you have claws and fangs?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then you’re a monster.”
“Okay, kid. Point. But that doesn’t have to mean I’m bad, does it? You don’t have to hate me, you know. I got it tough enough as it is without anybody hating me. I mean, look at my life. I live under a kid’s bed. Not a very tidy kid, either, if you know what I mean. You know what I eat for dinner every night? Spiders, that’s what! And no, they aren’t a tasty treat for monsters. You should be grateful, you hate spiders. I heard you caterwauling for your mommy plenty of times when you thought you saw one. So maybe you could go a little easier on me, hey?”
“Sorry,” Timmy muttered fearfully.
“Hey, that’s better. Just you wait, old Glorg is gonna show you what kind of guy he is. I can be really nice. Really, I can be. Hey, why don’t you come out from under there and we can get acquainted like civilized people?”
“I...” Timmy felt scared, but embarrassed about it. “I don’t think I want to.”
“Hey, Timmy, you realize that it’s only a blanket you’ve got there, right? I mean, do you really think that tiny scrap of fabric is somehow holding me back? Come on kid. Get real. Just show me your face, so I know who I’m talking to. Maybe we can be pals.”
Timmy thought maybe the monster was right. What good was the blanket, after all, if he was a vicious monster. “Okay, Glorg. Just don’t do anything scary.”
“Hey, kid. Trust me, okay?”
Timmy lowered the blanket down to get a glimpse of Glorg. Having waited for just that moment, Glorg quickly seized Timmy’s head in his huge, taloned paw and yanked Timmy out of bed, holding him before his fanged snout and inspecting him with dinner plate sized eyes.
“You said you were nice! You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”
“Actually, kid. I never said I was nice or wouldn’t hurt you. I merely accused you of thinking that I wasn’t. You shouldn’t have let down the blanket, kid. Tough luck, so long.” With that, Glorg tossed Timmy up and swallowed him in one gulp. Sweeping up a couple of spiders to take along, he crept back under the bed, back into the dark world, and waited for another child’s bed to open up to him, humming to himself.
seasong
First Post
Same reason a vampire has to be invited into your home, and holding a holy symbol is necessary for a cleric - we like to think our belief in something makes it so, and so in our fairy tales, it is! That is to say, it's not the blanket, it's the belief in the blanket.
For that matter, the TV Man has the same problem, except that his belief isn't making it so.
Number47, nice short-shorts!
For that matter, the TV Man has the same problem, except that his belief isn't making it so.
Number47, nice short-shorts!
Similar Threads
