[ WP ] the monster in the closet finally lures the child into the darkness , only to realize something is very very wrong

This hobby of mine, this thing I do, is not out of need or compulsion. It is a desire most sentient. It is the last thing that I would ever want to do. There is sense of importance, being that which will subtlety influence entire lives being at one point, at one time. I am the thing that haunts at night, a shadow in the dark place that invokes the strongest of nightmare day dreams. I am the one who breaks the sanctity of safety, who makes hiding under covers too terrifying. I am the monster in the closet, the unwanted room mate, and the ghost haunting the walls. 
 
 Tonight will be a most memorable haunt, for sure. A poster with bright, cheery faces of movie heroes hangs over the door to the hallway, opposite of a wooden angel hanging over the victims bed. A dream catcher lies limp while draped over the bed post closest to the sleeping child. This kid is no stranger to terror, it seems. I knew what game to play tonight. I will wait, because this is a child that will wake up soon enough. This is a child used to the feeling of being stared at from shadows. This is a child who knows that, despite parent's assurances, wooden angles and dream catchers only work when the monsters are imaginary. 
 
 Thanksfully, my wait was not long. A rustle in the sheets and a sneeze cued me into the momentary lack of sleep. Now was my chance to draw the attention of my audience. Darkness extended out from the closet on my behalf. Sticking and spreading along the walls to the focal point infront of the person, curled into a protective ball. The breathing sounds of the small person stopped momentarily, and I knew I had its attention. I drew the shadows away from the light under the hall doorway to shift the focus. A creak was coaxed out of the old matress. It's eyes were fixed on that small sliver, desperately making sure light was still a natural phenomenon in this world. The shadows danced around it, moving their way to the picture over the door. This was my art, bending faces through shadows alone. Once smiling cheeks became maniacal stares with the aid of darkened cheeks and altered eyebrows. It was n't a painting that needed completed though, for a whimper broke from the opposite corner of the room. I, next to the hall door, decided to rush the venerable moment and step from my place in the closet. The light under the door dimmed, just enough to make out my vague silhouette. I lingered for a second to allow my form to be viewef, and whisked the last light from the door out of the room. The final move was upon me. I took a step closer. Whimpering turned into crying. The stage was set. I was ready. 
 
 But the crying subsided. And eire silence fell over the room. Then a deep breath. An exhale. Then a tougher exhale and another. Each breath led to three or four forceful releases in a way that sounded jovial. Like laughing or a hard chuckle. It was a sudden show of bravery, I'm sure. Or, I was. The light had returned without my behest, only it was not from the door. Candles I had previously not noticed burned on the bedside table. A red/orange glow emanated from the window. There was a warm breeze with no origination that suddenly circled the room. The child's head raised from the bed, followed by it's neck and back. Then, with arms still and no extra effort, it's torso was off the mattress and was on its feelt. It looked straight at me with eyes of fire. This was a mistake, I had realized. 
 
 I leapt to the closet, aware I was over my head. But fire rose in front of it. I rushed down the hall as quick as a tangible shadow could. I reached the top of the stairs, only to find to adults on the landing covered in blood and wounds. What had this child done? This was it for me. Centuries of mild terror and mental health tampering gave me no experience in this world. I felt a breath reach my shoulder as the boy appeared there. Suddenly I was warm. Suddenly I was a pyre, enveloped in the flames of my conception. Suddenly, I was gone.
