Bride of the Bogeyman

[RoryN]

It was just a normal closet. Clothes draped over thin plastic hangers hooked in a neat line on a metal rail about 6' from the floor. Shoes collected in the bottom, worn and old yet arranged in an easily accessible line. And a shelf above the hangers, a small pocket of space where small boxes could be shoved away. Plain. Simple. ...Uninhabited.

That changed with the descent of the sun in the sky, the rooms growing dark and the closets growing darker still. From the corners of this closet, a harsh hissing erupted, black and liquid shadow curling and spreading like droplets on a napkin, to envelop the plain white wall behind the row of clothes. Like an infection it spread, the wall crackling softly as it was consumed by a darkness so thick it looked impenetrable. But it was anything but.

Finally, the progression stopped, the entire back wall of the closet blackened, with tendrils of shadow curled over the corners and already beginning to scar the two side walls of the small space. And a presence grew from the center, a part of the shadow moving and separating from the whole, like a sentience given birth. A face appeared. Then a form. Snowy white irises flashed with life as the newly formed being stepped forth, moist and sickly wet blackness clinging to his body and clothes before he slipped completely free. Underneath a dark cloak, neck and shoulders wreathed with spindly feathers, his muscles rippled as he crouched down to huddle amidst bright blouses and cheerful colored shirts. The door was closed but it proved no obstacle, the knob lightly turned and pushed to creak open an inch giving a clear view of the room beyond.

 

[RoryN]

The ring of white iris in each of his eyes were surrounded by inky blackness, filled with a predatory glimmer as he watched the young woman approach the closet and undress. A wicked smile curled his lips as his gaze licked over her slender curves and ample bosom, admiring her body even as something primitive and wild stirred within him. And he knew her. Visiting millions of closets and bedrooms just like this, he, and the other creatures that inhabited his kingdom, fed off of the terror and sorrow that was elicited so easily from the young. And he'd been to her bedroom thousands of times, frightening the five year old little girl until she grew up and her fear faded.

But Locke did not forget about her, and a tremor of delight coursed through him as she became aware of his presence. That intoxicating fear in her eyes kept him magnetized, feeling the waves of it rippling off of her. Now that he'd found her again, grown and ripened beautifully, he was not leaving without her.

Leaving the comforting shade of the closet, he stepped forward into the light that spilled from a lamp on her desk. Standing at full height, his dark jacket went all the way to the floor, left to hang open and exposing his bare chest. His lower body was obscured by a dark pair of pants that hung low, clinging to his hips and exposing washboard abs and several inches of pelvis flesh beneath his belly button. Hard, and wild features dominated his face, eyes shadowed and dark, with black hair, short and spiked wildly all over his head.

He stood apart from the closet and regarded her with a hungered look. "Sophie..." he said, his voice smooth and deep, practically purring the word with satisfaction. And it was repeated by a multitude of whispering voices, emitted from the closet where vague shapes moved behind the row of clothes.

 

[RoryN]

Her frightened exclamation got another dark smile to twist across his lips. But rather than answering her, he moved forward closer to the bed. And he did not move like a man but rather with a stuttering, jolting walk, his image speeding across several inches that separated them, standing firm and then speeding again - like someone was playing with the fast-forward button and directing it at him.

Suddenly he was there, on her bed with her, ripping her blankets off and grabbing ahold of her. He let her struggle weakly in his unyielding grasp, pressing his muscled body between her delicate legs, allowing her to feel the arousal buried within. And despite any noises she was making, he smirked, unworried, before opening his mouth in an elongated "O" shape, the interior of which had been transformed into a depthless darkness. A harsh rushing sound, like a stormy wind, came from his lips and his eyes opened wide before he surged forward and latched his mouth onto hers.

Laying over her, his dark coat draped over her to obscure her from the light. And a second later, they had appeared on a walkway, surrounded on both sides by dark, dank caverns. He grasped her arm and dragged her along behind him, his boots echoing on the floor of the corridor. On either side of them, occasionally the walkway branched off, turning upward and ending against smooth walls where doorways to that other world could be created. It was colder here, and damp, a heavy quality filling the air marking this place as completely different from the world they'd just left.