Little Monster

“There are no monsters under my bed, silly!” Katy tells her Aunt.

But Auntie continues playing her game. “I’d better check.”

A sound creeps out from deep beyond the wooden panes of the wardrobe. Katy pulls the duvet up over her eyes in the way only an eight-year-old can: she knows what’s coming.

Auntie glances up. “See, all-”

Suddenly it grabs her, an ice-cold hand around the ankle. The wardrobe doors explode open and Auntie is dragged inside. In an instant, she is gone, lost to the darkness.

“But there is one in my wardrobe,” Katy whispers.


Author: jackkholt

Film graduate. Lover of lots of good films and quite a few bad ones. Reader. Writer. Novel in progress, obviously.

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