Dan from from Kentucky sent me this one:
I’m eleven. My sister is nine. We live with my mom and dad in a small house in Louisville, Kentucky. About a month ago, Karen started telling me that she believed there was a monster living under her bed.
“Give me a break!” I said, being my usual compassionate big brother. “That stuff is for babies. When are you going to grow up?”
“Danny!” she whined. “I heard a strange noise. I was sure it came from under my bed, so I stuck my head down there and it was really weird. It was like I was looking at a picture or a movie of another place. It was all white and snowy, and someone was walking through the snow. Then I saw the monster, like a big dog, growling. And—Danny, stop laughing at me!”
I couldn’t help it. It just sounded so weird. My sister was pretty frightened by scary movies and stuff like that, and I knew she had a vivid imagination, but this was way wilder than anything I had ever heard her say.
“If I see it again, can I knock on the wall?” she asked, not letting it go.
“Sure,” I said smiling. This was the signal we had used since we were little kids. Whenever Karen got scared at night, she would knock on the wall and I’d come into her room until she wasn’t scared anymore.
The next night, I was awakened by a knock on my wall. I slipped from bed and headed quietly into Karen’s room. Our folks were downstairs with some people and I didn’t want them to know that we were still awake.
Stepping into Karen’s room I found her leaning over the edge of her bed. She tightly gripped the blanket which draped over the side. “It’s back!” she whispered, as if the creature she believed to be under her mattress might hear her.
I knelt down beside the bed. “Go ahead,” I said, rolling my eyes.
She pulled the blanket up, then hung her head over the edge of the bed. I flattened myself onto my stomach and stuck my head under the mattress.
I’m only 11 but this was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. It’s hard to explain. It was as if the small space between the bottom of the mattress and the floor had opened up into a vast arctic scene. It was not so much like watching a movie, but more like poking my head through a hole into another place.
With Karen’s head upside-down next to mine, I watched as a man in what looked like a soldier’s uniform trudged through the snowy wasteland.
“This is exactly what I saw last night,” Karen explained. “It’s like a movie that keeps playing. The monster should show up any second now.”
Sure enough, a few moments later we heard growling, then suddenly a four-legged beast came tearing through the snow. It had thick white fur and long teeth. Its face and teeth were drenched in blood, fresh from a kill.
“It’s a wolf!” I said. “An artic wolf.” I’m an animal lover and I can identify animals from around the world, and this one was pretty obvious.
The soldier stared at the beast, terror in his eyes. And then the weirdest thing happened. The wolf turned and looked right at me! I swear! Our eyes locked and the wolf snarled as if it meant to charge right at me. Then it turned back and attacked the soldier, teeth sinking into the man’s leg.
“Make it stop, Danny!” Karen screeched.
I yanked the covers down to cover the scene. When I peeked again a second later, the snowy scene was gone. There were only toys under her bed.
Then I heard someone downstairs sobbing. It didn’t sound like my mom or dad, so I went back to bed. The next morning I asked my mom if everything was okay, and she explained to me that her visitors were sad because their son had died.
About a week later, my folks had company again, a woman I didn’t know. Then, an hour after I went to bed, Karen knocked on the wall. I scooted into her room.
“It’s happening again, Danny!” she cried, pointing under the bed.
I ducked my head under and once gain peered into some kind of opening. I saw a man running down a dark, deserted, rainy street. It looked like a city, but it was hard to tell. He kept looking back over his shoulder as he ran.
Suddenly another man came running onto the scene. He was much larger than the first man. His brown hair was disheveled and he had a wild look in his eyes. The second man quickly gained on the first and within a few seconds had caught up to him, tackling him to the ground.
“What’s going on?” Karen asked.
“Shh!” I said. “Just watch.”
The larger man had the first man pinned to the ground. He reached into his long overcoat and pulled out something that flashed in the streetlight.
“He’s got a knife!” Karen whispered.
Down came the knife, again and again, into the first man’s chest. It made a sickening slicing sound with each stab.
“He killed that guy!” Karen shouted as tears poured down her face.
The murderer stopped as if he had heard Karen’s shout. He turned and looked right at us, the bloody knife still dripping in his hand.
“Now you two kids didn’t see anything, did you?” he asked, standing up.
“Danny, he sees us!” Karen whispered, grabbing the sleeve of my pajamas.
Still clutching the knife in his black gloved hand, the murderer slowly walked towards us, his boots sloshing in the puddles on the pavement.
“I asked you a question!” he shouted, picking up his pace, coming closer. His eyes glowed with rage. “Did you see anything?”
His body filled the entire portal now as if he were just a few inches away. We froze in terror.
“What’s the matter?” he snarled. “Cat got your tongue?”
Karen grabbed my other arm. The killer kept coming. I could feel the dampness of the rain and the power of his anger pouring through the portal.
“Well maybe I’ll just cut out that tongue!” he barked, reaching through the opening and grabbing Karen’s hand!
“Help!” she screeched. “Get him off! Get him off!”
The killer’s arm and shoulder were now in the room. His huge hand closed around Karen’s wrist. Then he began pulling her toward the portal.
“You’re coming with me!” he shouted.
“Danny! Help me!” Karen screeched hysterically
I scooted behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist and yanked with all my strength. We both fell backwards onto the bedroom floor.
Then the portal snapped shut.
“Ahhhhh!!!” Karen screamed, completely freaked out.
“Stop screaming!” I yelled. “He’s gone!”
Karen stopped, but a horrified scream continued from downstairs.
“What’s going on?” Karen shouted, running for the door.
She yanked open her bedroom door, and jumped back, startled. A large figure filled the doorway, then stepped into the room.
“Dad!” I said, relieved. “What’s going on down there?”
“I thought the screaming might frighten you,” he said, as Karen climbed up into his arms. “I came to check on you guys. That’s a client of ours downstairs. She’s very upset.”
“What kind of client?” I asked.
“Do you know what a séance is?” Dad asked me.
“Well, duh, Dad, everyone does,” I replied.
“Your mother and I conduct séances for people trying to find out what happened to missing loved ones,” Dad explained. “We just helped our client find out that her husband was killed. The poor woman’s so shook up. We were able to identify the murderer as a large man with wild eyes and red hair.”
“Actually, Dad,” I said. “His hair was brown.”