Don't Look Under The Bed

Really, just... just don't.

I missed giving you all a story last week, so this week you get two!! Before we get to this thrilling tale, are you interested in buying one of my ebooks? Use code CYBERMONDAY at my Payhip store to get 50% off your total purchase. https://payhip.com/ScottRoche

Nicky pushed the door to the motel room shut. "Which bed do you want, sweetheart?"

Marcia, wide brown eyes drooping, shook her head. "Doesn't matter, mom. I'm just ready to fall into bed." She dragged her roll-on suitcase beside the nearest one and stared at the burnt orange duvet. “Will you check?”

Photo by Sean Mungur on Unsplash

The sigh came from Nicky’s toes. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing under there. And you know these beds aren’t like the ones at home. The bedframe goes all the way to the floor.”

“The one in New Jersey didn’t.”

The one motel they’d stayed at where there was space under the bed had been an even bigger dump than this one. And of course she was right. “Okay, I’ll check.” She got down on all fours and lifted the cover. “See, nothing.” Other than some moths and a square foil wrapper she was sure hadn’t been on a Dove bar. She felt rather than heard her daughter get down.

“Thank you, mom.” They both stood up. “I know big girls don’t worry about things like that.”

Nicky hugged her little girl, suddenly reminded she wouldn’t be little much longer. “It’s okay. Do you want me to check under mine?” She held her back out at arm’s length.

“Nope.” Marcia twirled around and flopped onto the bed, springs barely whimpering. “If the monster eats you first at least I’ll have time to run.”

"Gee thanks, baby." Nicky's smile was as tired as the rest of her, but it was genuine. It had been a hard year, but they were on the upside. This cheap motel would be the last sub par accommodation they would have to use once they got to New York. There, her grandfather's lawyer was supposed to have a fat check waiting for them.

She rolled her own suitcase behind her and took the bed farthest away. The edge of the bed creaked under her tired backside. She tried not to think about who might have lay on it and what they might have done. She tried not to think about the smell of old farts and bad food permeating the walls. Under those scents, she could make out the faintest whiff of cigarettes. It hadn't been legal to smoke in motel rooms since she was Marcia's age. The odor did wake a craving inside her.

With a sneaky look over at the small form on the next bed, she stood up and walked towards the door.

"Where you going, mom?" She mumbled the question, but it was audible enough.

"I have to get something from the car. Be right back." She touched the door handle.

"Gonna smoke?" Marcia propped herself up on one elbow. Puffy eyes still managed a knowing look.

Nicky looked over her shoulder. "As soon as we get our money, I'm going to start on the patch. I promise." She opened the door, letting in the night air. Tinged as it was with diesel fumes from the truck stop across the street, there was still a hint of that special scent carried on an autumn wind. "This pack is the last one I'll buy. Change into your PJs and crawl into bed. I'll get something for you from the machine and then you can brush your teeth."

The promise of sugar had the tween up and out of bed. She unzipped her pink vinyl case and began pulling out the knock-off Hermione Granger nightgown.

Nicky closed the door behind her and jog-walked to the vending machine area. A few minutes later she had a plastic-wrapped confection in one hand and a Pall Mall in the other. She'd put the filter tip in her mouth when she heard a noise from the room. It might have been one only a mother could hear. God knew, Danny never heard the little sounds of terror their daughter occasionally made in the night.

She wheeled on the door and stuck the key in, managing to do no small amount of damage to the SnoBall in the process.

Marcia had backed against the air conditioner. The nightgown was bunched in her hands. "Something under the bed."

Nicky shook her head. "No, baby. We checked, remember." She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. The monster under the bed was a common enough theme in the girl's nightmares, but she hadn't even gotten in bed yet. "I'll check again." She walked over to the bed and reached down for the edge of the duvet.

"No. Yours." The words were breathy and flat. "I was going to brush my teeth and I passed your bed. And I saw it. A finger."

An honest to God chill ran down Nicky's spine. "Alright, honey. We'll have a look." She walked around her daughter's bed and stopped before she could see the space between them. What if Marcia was right? What if there was someone under there? She shook her head. "Back up to the door, Marcia. Be ready to run." She squared her shoulders and looked over at her daughter. "Marcia Dean, you get your little butt over to the door, now."

Marcia shook herself out of the fugue state. "Yes, ma'am."

Nicky reached into her back pocket and pulled out the knife she kept there. It was the one she'd stabbed Danny with. The blade snapped out. "If you're hiding under the bed, you better not be playing a joke." When she got to the point where she could see between the beds, there was no finger. "Marcia, you better not be playing a joke either."

"No, momma. No joke." Marcia had made it to the door. "I swear."

Nicky dropped to her knees onto the threadbare green carpet. She had to admit there was an odd smell this close to the underside of her bed. Meat just gone past its date. They'd eaten their share of that, so she knew the odor well. With her left hand, she lifted the edge of her duvet and looked. The first thing she saw was the rictus grin of a man she hoped was dead. The second thing she saw before she dropped the fabric and screamed her daughter's name was the horrific face of some creature. It was gnawing on the man's finger and drooling, with hunger in its piss-yellow eyes.