[ WP ] After losing yet another sock , you 've finally decided that you 've had enough , and begin investigating . Instead of a logical explanation , you find that sock gremlins exist , and they 've got nefarious plans for all the socks they 've gathered ...

If they had n't taken the coloured ones, I'm not sure if I'd have noticed. 
 
 They were my favourite pair, red on the heel and toe with electric blue for the background. A present from my girlfriend ( *ha ha socks for Christmas, how droll! * ), they were a massive departure from my standard black ones. They were my weekend socks. They were the noisiest socks I'd ever seen, how the hell had I lost one?! I turned my room upside down, amused at my own determination to find the blasted thing when I notice a thin strand of red under the skirting board, like a poking tongue beneath my bed. 
 
 Shifting the bed to one side, and kneeling down I pull it, and the thread pulls for a good inch before coming free, that did not get there by itself. I place my fingers against the skirting board, thick gloss paint feeling like plastic, and notice it wobbles slightly. I move it a bit harder, and a small chunk falls away, revealing a small entrance, like a cartoon mouse hole. 
 
 I grab my phone and turn on the flashlight app, waving it slightly to get a better angle of the light for my eye line against my frustratingly wide head. I can see the tunnel leading away and down, then turning a corner after about a metre or so. I frown. This is an outside wall. There should only be a layer of breeze block, a small cavity, then brick, there is no way the wall is that thick. I stand up, knees clicking as tendons snap over bone, and go to the window. I open it out into the softening light of winter, cold air blasting my face and check the cross section of the wall. Yep, as I expected, only about half a metre tops. 
 
 I return to the object of my confusion again with a tape measure, poking it inside I watch as the length is inserted, and frown again as the end butts against the tunnels corner with the number showing 1m 15cm. What the hell. 
 
 Suddenly I spy movement, a shadow from deep inside the recess *shifts* unerringly, and I find the tape measure suddenly being pulled around the corner. 2m... 3m... 4m... At 5 metres the mechanism jams with a metallic snap, and I feel my arm tense as I counteract the pull, like I've landed a giant fish. The pulling continues, and I'm suddenly aware of noises, like a thousand tiny voices chanting out in unison. I lean forwards, straining to make out the individual words. 
 
'notasock, notasock, notasock' they chant, rising in pitch and tempo as the tape measure starts to vibrate and grow warm in my hand. I start to feel nauseous, my mind spinning before a flash of light, followed by darkness. 
 
 ***** 
 
 I wake, spluttering into dust as it stings my throat and nostrils. I stand, staring at my surroundings, suddenly sure of my own madness. I am standing in my bedroom, but where before the hole had seemed small and insignificant, now the world itself is huge and grandiose. My bed, massive to me now, stands a minutes walk away where I dragged it earlier on in the hunt for my sock, and the hole in front of me is a door sized entrance, perfectly accommodating for my now tiny frame. 
 
 I hesitate, my vulnerability to whatever had done this not lost on me, but carry on regardless, entering it's gloomy interior. What else was I supposed to do? 
 
 The air inside is stale and warm, with a faint light coming from around the corner. I trek down, hearing again the noises I heard before. Where before they had been high pitched, jolly even, they now sound deep and dark to my ears. There are thousands of them I realise, and I can only hope that they are friendly as I approach with mortal trepidation. 
 
 I walk for some time before I come to the corner, idly picking up my tape measure that was also shrunk with me. Unsure of myself I stop, and peer around the corner. 
 
 The sight that hits me is breath-taking. 
 
 The tunnel opens out, birthing into a massive chasm with blue sky peeping in from above, a massive quarry dips in the centre with two giant oval mounds either side, and what must be thousands of other tunnels leading off from the room on walkways both above and below me. There is movement everywhere. Thousands of creatures I've never seen are moving, working and churning away. Grey bipeds with flat noses and wiry limbs are trudging about, in and out of all those other tunnels, some going out empty handed, others walking in dragging socks. In the centre of the quarry, they climb a massive mountain of fabric footwear, towering over all of them, as they climb up with new socks, or climb down without. 
 
 Even taking into account my tiny frame I realise this place is massive, miles across at least, and the number of creatures is staggering. I look up again at the light dwindling down towards us, like looking up from the bottom of some animals den. 
 
 I watch for awhile, fascinated and terrified by the workers nearest me, when I notice it. Under all the socks in the middle, I spy something. It had slipped my eye before due to the number of workers stepping across to climb the pile. The floor in the centre of the room is moving, churning, as the mountain of socks slowly sinks down. I stare at one of the two giant ovals, and jump slightly as they both turn yellow, with dark irises inside. 
 
 The floor just blinked itself awake. 
 
 I realise what I'm seeing. This is not a cheeky collection of mythical creatures stealing socks for fun, this is group of workers feeding something. Something ancient. Something big. 
 
 I realise then that there is a monster under my bed, as there has always been a monster under my bed, as there is one under all beds. 
 
 And it just woke up.
