thê møñśtèr üńdęr thē bėd
thê møñśtèr üńdęr thē bėd warning: creepy stories
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avidflame
avidflame Hey! I write fanfics, Hope you like them
Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
Do you remember the monsters under your bed? Or in your closet? Or behind your dresser? Well, even if you don't, there was always something. Anything, or anyone. Who knows what it is that makes us feel safe under the blankets? Why are we scared of the dark, when it is only a black shade of light?

thê møñśtèr üńdęr thē bėd

Do you remember the monsters under your bed? Or in your closet? Or behind your dresser? Well, even if you don't, there was always something. Anything, or anyone.

Who knows what it is that makes us feel safe under the blankets? Why are we scared of the dark, when it is only a black shade of light?

While nobody can explain these feelings of dread, I can add some more in "the monster under the bed".

There's nothing like the sound of a baby laughing. Except if you live alone on the third floor.

I hear the tapping on the window and go to investigate. I only know what it is when I hear it again, coming from the bathroom mirror.

I can't move, see, speak, or hear, and it's always so quiet and dark. If I knew it'd be this lonely, I would've been cremated instead.

She wondered why she was casting two shadows. After all, there was only one light bulb.

Something is looking at me through my window. I live on the fourteenth floor.

My girlfriend asked me why I was breathing so heavily. I wasn't.

They delivered the mannequins in bubble wrap. I hear popping coming from the main room.

I wake up. She doesn't.

The officer finally got back to me. The call was coming from inside my house.

The last man on earth was sitting in his house. Something knocks on the door.

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