Angus was thirty-seven years old but as he lay awake in the darkness he couldn't take his eyes off the closet.
His uncle once said that monsters lived in there and if you stopped believing in them, that's when they came for you.
Angus stopped believing a long time ago and the monsters hadn't come for him yet. But now something clawed at the door from inside the closet.
He pulled the covers over his head and told himself it wasn't real but his heart pounded against the wall of his chest as something pounded on the wall.
There was silence for a moment until he heard a shriek. Angus shrieked too but he decided he'd had enough.
He stood up, his legs shaking like jelly, and walked towards the closet. He reached for the handle and paused, taking in a deep breath.
He pulled open the door, flicked on the light and looked inside. It was how he left it, clothes hanging up and his latest victim lying lifeless on the floor.
Angus closed the door and looked in the mirror. He knew why the monsters never came for him. He was one.