Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Closed Doors ❯ Behind Closed Doors ( One-Shot )

Standard disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters of Gundam Wing, but I thank its producers with the bottom of my heart for such a wonderful anime series!

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

Duo Maxwell lay on his stomach on his bed, buried under a thick comforter, reading a battered paperback copy of Peter Pan. The seven-year-old boy, an avid reader, could always be found with his nose buried in one book or another. He enjoyed many different types of stories. His mother had often referred to him as an equal opportunity reader. And he was. The brown haired youth had a keen and open mind when it came to books.

The reed thin youngster loved all types of stories, even the ones that were assigned to him in Literature class. Fancy that! But what he loved more than anything - more than Westerns, with stirring tales of heroic sheriffs and dastardly cattle rustlers, more than science fiction, with it's promise of distant futures, some good, some not so good - was fantasy. He loved fantasy above and beyond all other genres. Tales of bizarre planets, fairy princesses, heroic knights in shining armor, dragons, and magicians! In fantasy, anything could and often did happen. So different than real life, with all its bitter disappointments...Reading helped the youth escape from the cruel reality of the world, at least temporarily.

(Give me a good book over real life any day.)

Duo shivered slightly and pulled the comforter up more snuggly about his shoulders, cutting out the sneaky draft that had found its way into his warm haven. He really liked his current foster home. Really he did... It was much better than the one he had been in before, but... He just wished it wasn't so very cold in his bedroom. Giving a small shrug of the shoulders, the young boy sighed. (I guess it really can't be helped), he thought. This room was, after all, one of the northern most rooms in the house. And it was in the middle of winter, a very cold winter. It didn't help matters any that the only window faced north. No golden warm rays of sun ever found their way into the small, neatly maintained room. That was a fact!

Suddenly, the temperature in the room felt like it dropped twenty degrees. Dread pooled in the young boy's belly like a serpent coiled to strike. He cupped his hands over his nose and mouth, as if to warm them. His breath formed icy vapors in the still air, his heart hammered in his throat, and his breathing quickened until he was all but panting.

The boy whispered in terror as his violet eyes widened in fright. "Oh, go away... please go away..."

Duo was not fully sure of who, or whathe may have been speaking to, and he really didn't care at this particular moment in time. All he needed to know was that there was, without a doubt, something lurking in his room with him. And not for the first time, either. No, the same thing had happened on two other occasions. Something cold, unfeeling...dangerous.

The small child sucked his breath in harshly as he felt, or thought he felt, something brush against the bottom of one of his feet. Realization dawned in a hurry that he had let them trail over the edge of the bed while he had been reading. That was bad, very bad! He scrambled to his knees and pressed his back against the headboard. Small helpless whimpers escaped from his tightly clenched throat. Impossibly wide eyes scanned the room continuously. Back and forth, back and forth... There was nothing there! Oh why, wasn't there anything there? Any adult would have reasoned that he should have been relieved at that bit of knowledge, but he wasn't. Not one little bit! The child knew better.

(It's just hiding...) The boy's mind screamed. Now where in the world would IT be hiding? Why under the bed, of course! Naturally! All really scary creatures hid under the bed! Or in the closet! Any two year old could tell you that!

Rational thought tried to intervene. (Baby, you baby! This is getting ridiculous! There is no scary monster hiding under your bed! If you don't believe that, why don't you just go down and take a look, you chicken?)

Duo shook his head in mute horror, his long chestnut brown bangs sticking softly against his sweaty brow.

"No way, man!" he whispered back to his own mind, his voice high and trembling. "No wayam I going to look under the bed! What? Are you joking?"

He clenched his eyes closed and chose to ignore rational thought. Rational thinking would get him killed quicker than snot!

Duo could just see it now... Carefully, oh so carefully, he would creep to the edge of the bed, he would pull up the covers, and slowly stick his head down for a quick look-see. Yeah... His long braid would fall down and dangle, just barely brushing the thick shag rug. He would come face to gross face with some unimaginably awful creepy crawly thingy with blood red eyes and long, slobbering fangs. That sight alone would probably blast his young mind to bits mere seconds before the nameless horror would latch on to that oh- so- tempting braid and yank him, kicking and screaming uselessly under the bed where all the little dust bunnies stored all the socks and buttons they stole. It would drag him under the bed to...to...to...

To eat you!

A horrible image popped, all Technicolored and as real as life and twice as ugly, into his seven-year- old mind and Duo realized with a jolt of panic that the thought, that horrible picture had not been of his own creation! No, he could never have conjured up such vivid horrors! Not in a million years! Something black and slimy, he imagined, had somehow managed to project that delightfulimage into his numbed brain and it hadn't been his thought! No sirree BOB!

Small, cold hands pressed over his ears. They were his hands, fortunately. A tiny, helpless moan of pure terror rushed past his trembling lips. Here's a lovely thought for you, my boy! Maybe it wasn't under the bed! Let's just suppose for one moment, ladies and germs that the dreaded boogieman wasn't under the bed at all! What if it was in-- His breath stilled ominously in his chest as Duo felt his eyes being drawn, pulled, almost against his will, towards...the closet.

(Why don't you just go and check it out?)

Rational thought was stubborn, very persistent. You had to give it some credit, it- never- gave- up! Duo shook his head once, very slowly. No way! No way! What if he was wrong? OH, WHAT IF HE WAS WRONG AND IT WASUNDER THE BED? He'd be dead meat for sure!

How long would that small, helplessly afraid boy have crouched, cowering on his bed? The world would never know for at that exact moment, there came a sharp knocking against the door to his bedroom. This startled a shrill, breathy shriek out of the braided boy. The door swung open to reveal... his foster mother, Roseanne.

Roseanne's large blue eyes were wide with surprise. She absently swiped a stray lock of blond hair out of her face that had somehow managed to escape from her ponytail. It stayed were it was for a moment, then decided it liked where it had been before better and fell back into its previous position. This time she left it alone. She then absently ran her hands over the white frilly apron she wore over a forest green turtleneck. The apron was covered with tiny little frogs, every one of the cute buggers holding up a sign demanding that each one was, in fact, a royal prince in disguise. A kiss was all it would take to set them free.

Yeah, right...

"Are you okay, Duo? I thought I just heard you scream." She entered his room, crossed over towards his twin-sized bed, and plopped down on the mattress. She smoothed her red skirt under her legs as she did so. Even gripped in his terror, Duo realized that, even though it was winter and freezing cold, he had never once seen his foster mother wearing a pair of slacks or even jeans, not once in four months.

The child managed to find his voice. Oh, goody! He even sounded almost normal. Things were indeed looking up! He looked into those beautiful, blue eyes and smoothly lied through his teeth!

"I was just reading a scary story, Roseanne. I must have let my imagination run away with me, that's all..." Duo managed a small nervous chuckle.

His foster mother did not appear to be convinced by his little performance.

Roseanne glanced over at the book that was opened face down on the rumpled pillow. It was the copy of Peter Pan she had gotten for the little bookworm from Mary's Book Exchange last week. It was one of the least scary books she could imagine. She turned her eyes back towards the boy huddled beside her. His bangs were plastered to his forehead with sweat and he looked a little too pale for her liking. But she wasn't going to pry. He would open up to her if and when he felt he wanted or needed to.

"Are you sure...?"

She couldn't help the concerned tone that had crept into her voice. She was a mother, after all. And this child, whom she had grown quite fond of in the last few months, was obviously scared stiff. (Don't push him remember. The counselor said he would open up to you eventually. Just give him some time and space.) When the little boy nodded again, she stood up with a sigh.

"Well...you shouldn't read such scary stories, Duo. They'll rot your brain, you know. Probably even give you nightmares." The tall, slender woman moved off towards the door and called back over her shoulder. "Why don't you come down and help me set the table for dinner, hmm?"

Duo hopped down from the bed and quickly followed the woman out of the door. Anything to get out of that room! He shot a glance back towards the closet. Nervously he nibbled on his lower lip. Could he have been mistaken? Had he indeed allowed his vivid imagination to carry him away as he had explained? Maybe... but he didn't believe it to be so. He could not have imagined that sense of overpowering fear that had clutched cold fingers about his heart. No, it had not all been in his mind...

*****

Roseanne's husband, Jeff, had joined them for dinner for a change. Usually he worked the second shift at a factory called AirLite Plastics from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. tonight had been his day off. Jeff was a kind man with wavy brown hair, laughing brown eyes and a preference for colorful polo shirts. He was the nicest man Duo had ever met, besides his deceased father. He would ask about the boy's day and really listen to what Duo had to say. That was pretty rare in an adult as far as the shy child was concerned. Many would ask questions but never really pay attention to what he had to say in response. It was frustrating.

After dinner, Jeff went to bed to catch up on his sleep. (Can you really catch up on lost sleep?) Duo wondered. It was a nice thought, but it didn't seem likely. Over the past few weeks, the boy had lost a lot of sleep, mainly from nightmares and such. He had never been able to catch up with the sleep he had lost, not really. It just played havoc with his internal clock. Maybe grownups had a knack for it...

Duo was finishing putting away the last of the clean dishes when, Alexis, Roseanne's baby, began to cry fussily from her crib. Someone must sure be hungry judging from the tone and volume of the insistent cries. Roseanne sighed. She would never manage to get everything done. There were only so many hours in a day and she had only two arms. She glanced over at Duo, a glimmer of an idea forming rapidly in her mind.

(Maybe he wouldn't mind helping out a little. I could give him a bit of allowance for doing chores. Sounds like a plan!)

Roseanne dried her soapy hands off on her apron. "Hey, Duo? Could you do me a small favor?"

The small boy turned and looked calmly at his foster mother. His amethyst eyes questioned silently. He seemed much calmer than he had been right before dinner. That was good. He had almost scared her.

"Could you please take the load of towels out of the dryer and fold them up? I would really appreciate it. I would, but I've got to feed Alexis."

The boy's mind froze solid. The laundry room? Oh, no! That's the second scariest room in the whole house! Duo's small mind was screaming and shouting, (JUST SAY NO!!! No way, José! You can count me out!) But without even a seconds pause he replied, "Sure, Roseanne, no problemo!"

He mentally kicked himself for a darned fool. (You moron! Do you have a death wish?)

The braided boy found himself standing on top of the flight of steps. His heart was rabbiting in his scrawny chest and his palms were slicked with sweat.

(You are not going to go down there are you? Is there any way I can talk you out of this? Please...)

Duo did his best to ignore his babbling mind. He wanted to help out Roseanne. It made him feel like a contributing member of the well, ...family. The two grown ups had been nothing but kind to him. It was the least he could do.

Taking a deep gulp of air, Duo started down the steps.

*****

Carefully, Duo navigated the stairway leading into the basement. His heart was beating in fright. He so did not want to go down here, but he had agreed to fold up the towels, and that meant going down into the laundry room, the second scariest room in the whole house!

It wasn't that the room was horrible, although it was in the basement, and we all know that the monsters are supposed to lurk in the basement. But this basement was not the typical scary movie type of basement. No, indeed, it was, actually, pretty cozy. It wasn't damp, or musty. There were no bugs or spider webs or anything. But still...

Having reached the bottom of the steps, Duo hurried over to the door leading into the dreaded laundry room. He opened it carefully as if it were an explosive devise set to go off. Cautiously he reached his hands into the dark room, blindly reaching for the light switch, every nerve in his body screaming for him to stop this nonsense...to pull his groping hand back into the light before some creepy horror show escapee decided that such a juicy morsel such as this was just too tempting to pass up. The small child's tongue poked out of his mouth in intense concentration.

(Come on, now! Where is the stupid switch? I know it's in here somewhere...!)

Finally with a great heaving sigh of relief, the braided boy's searching hand encountered the light switch - and only the light switch! He flipped it and the room was drowned in the bright florescent glow from overhead. Creepy crawlies be gone! He uttered a shaky laugh and scurried into the small room.

Let's be perfectly honest here, folks. The room was just your common, run of the mill, ordinary laundry room. Just a washer, dryer, a table for folding and a bar suspended between the two walls laden with about a thousand metal coat hangers. You know the ones I'm talking about - the kind that everyone has, but never use because they always get tangled together and put huge creases in any garment unfortunate enough to fall into their grasp. There was nothing terrible scary about it, at least not in appearance.

Looks can be deceiving. Yes, truer words had never been spoken. The room was perfectly ordinary, but there was a feel there. Not everyone could, apparently, pick up on this feeling; otherwise no laundry would ever get done. It was something dark, loathsome. Malevolent. Evil. It made the hair on your arms prickle in goose bumps. It was this sense, this present you felt watching you behind your back. Just waiting for the perfect opportunity to reach out and grab some poor unsuspecting slob and carry them into the eternal darkness of oblivion.

Crossing the room in short hasty steps, Duo opened the dryer and began to jerk towels out and dump them into a nearby empty basket. He did this quickly so as to get out of this place as soon as possible. Despite the ever-present dread that tightened in his tiny belly, he took a moment to snuggle with one of the warm, fluffy terry cloth towels. The sensory feedback brought on a flash of memory... A much younger Duo helping his mommy fold towels, or at least trying to. His mother, a beautiful woman with the same eyes and hair as her young son had laughed merrily at his antics watching as he danced and pranced about in obvious pleasure. Finally, he had wrapped the soft warmth about his tiny body and had felt safe and secure...and truly loved for one of the last times in his small life.

If Duo had known that the death of everyone he had held dear was sneaking ever closer, he would have clung to his mother, crying, and never let go... but he had been blissfully ignorant of the approaching disaster that would soon send him from one unsatisfactory foster home to another. Feeling abused and unloved. Until now, until here. Here he felt like a member of the family. In this home he shared with Roseanne, Jeff, and Alexis, the small boy felt cared for, felt loved for the first time in years.

Suddenly, as the boy hefted the heavy basket onto his slender hip, a cold draft swirled about his feet, startling Duo out of his daydream... his memories. The metal hangers brushed together oh- so- softly and the gentle sound like wind chimes sent waves of fear coursing through his veins like icy water, causing him to shiver uncontrollably. Eyes flying wide in terror, the boy dropped his load, spilling colorful cloth all over the cold concrete floor.

"Duuuuoooo..."

Like a chill wind the sound brushed briefly against the boy's skin at the back of his exposed neck. In a flash the boy whirled around. He didn't want to see the thing that had called his name, no; he had just wanted to assure himself that the sound had just been his imagination. If he actually had seen anything it would have sent him screaming out into the night never to return.

(RUN FAST! RUN FAR! RUN NOW!)

The boy began to tremble violently. There was nothing in that room with him! Nothing at all! All of his senses confirmed this, but deep down, the boy believed with all his might. There was something in here with him. Just because you couldn't see a thing didn't mean it didn't exist! Oh no! People believed in God, angels, and demons without any real proof that they existed. But they had faith, they believed. It was the same with Duo. He sincerely believed that there was something decidedly unpleasant in here with him.

(Does that make it real? Oh, God! I hope not!)

Where would he run away to anyway? It was dark and the middle of winter! Where could he go? Back to his former foster family, with those abusive, angry grown-ups that had only taken him in because they had been paid to do so? Back to the verbal abuse, the slaps, the drunken shouting? No, he would rather die here and now than return to that hellhole.

With his breath coming in pants, Duo forced himself to pick up the basket he had allowed to drop and turn over on the floor. In record speed he gathered the towels back up, refolding the ones that had come undone. He never took his eyes away from the task at hand. He straightened and hoisting the basket once again, the small, frightened child fled from that room and back to the relative safety of the upstairs.

*****

Duo stood defiantly in front of the closet in his bedroom. His hands fixed firmly on his hips, glaring at the closed door. His long hair hung damply about him, as of yet unbraided. He was dressed in yellow pajamas with cute little attached feet. It was meant to keep him warm on even the chilliest night. Roseanne had presented it to him directly after his bubble bath. Duo had fallen in love with it instantly! His heart had swelled almost to bursting with happiness. She cared! She really cared!

Now as he stood before the door, his mind dared him to open it up to take a quick peek, just one little look-see. Uh- hum! Yeah, right!

(Come on you baby! Chicken, open the door I dare you! I double dare you!)

He wavered for a moment, indecisive. One part of his young mind wanting to see, to prove that there was nothing in that small, cramped space. Another part of him was screaming that to open the door would be the act of a Looney! A total goofball! The second part of his mind, the one Duo considered infinitely smarter, won the day. He would not open the closet door. He may be a chicken, but he was a chicken with a strong sense of self-preservation. What did pride matter to a dead boy? Answer that one if you can, you crack-head!

Having made up his own mind at last, Duo expertly set about braiding the long mass of chestnut hair that hung down to the middle of his back in gently waves. He did it with sure practiced skill, all the while getting himself psyched up for the darkness that would soon engulf his tiny bedroom. He was sincerely beginning to hate bedtime.

After he was done with his hair and as ready for bed as he would ever likely get, the thin child padded across the room to the switch on the wall. Holding his breath, he flipped the light switch off and sprinted back to where his bed was and leaped into the air, his heart rocketing in his chest. He landed without incident and, in a flash he had his head and body buried under the thick layers of covers. Clenching his eyes closed Duo began to chant over and over again, 'Woola, Woola, Woola!' It was a protective chant his mother had taught him long ago to help scare away the monsters.

The chant had always managed to make him feel better before, but tonight it offered no comfort. That was not a good sign, oh no!! After a long while, the boy fell silent. His eyes remained shut firmly against the dark as he curled up into a tight little ball, making himself as small a target as possible. He bit his bottom lip nervously as he heard, or thought he heard, the faintest slithering. So soft, it was almost impossible to pick up under normal circumstances. But the situation was far from normal. The boy's senses were on red alert, straining to pick up the faintest sound, smell, movement of air. The boy had heard that stealthy slither and he was afraid, very afraid.

(Oh, please, don't let the monsters get me, dear God! Please, please, please!)

The slithering, squelchy sound stopped for a few moments and relief flooded through the boy in a powerful wave. After a long while and still no sounds, he began to slowly loosen up out of his ball of anxiety. But then, oh horror! He heard the sound again! And it was much, much closer! From the sound of it, the unknown horror show reject was at the foot of his bed! It was as if the thing had wanted to be quiet, but not too quiet! It wanted the small helpless child to hear it, to be deathly afraid - and IT was succeeding at its task marvelously well, I can assure you! IT wanted the fear to flood his tiny veins in icy terror. IT somehow feed off fear like a vampire feeds off blood. That was how it lived, survived, flourished...

It was a very long, long time until sleep overcame the exhausted child. And what dreams did come, would have driven any grown up mad in moments...

*****

Long after the exhausted Duo was finally succumbed to an uneasy sleep plagued with nightmares, there came a sound from somewhere deep in the bowels of the closet. It was laughter, deep, dark, and menacing. It was choked and rough like a gutter full of rotten leaves and muck. It was definitely not human!

At the sound of that dreadful chuckle, poor Duo stirred uneasily in his tangle of blankets. A small cry of fear was torn from his throat, but he did not awaken. If he had, he would have probably fled in absolute terror into the night, violet eyes rolling...or simply died from shock...

Poor Duo...! If he had only known! But how could he? No one had ever told him the things he really needed to survive in the world of childhood terrors. Maybe no one really knew for certain. Yes, it was true that the darkly wicked creatures that went bump in the night needed fear in order to sustain themselves. They needed to feed on the pure fear of a child to live and survive. But it was belief that made them grow strong, belief that enabled them to leave the world of closets and dark spaces under beds, belief that gave them power to enter the real world, the world of man, of light... If only the poor child had known that his absolute belief, his unwavering faith that the monsters really did exist was what was powering them, drawing them around and about him like moths to flame...

Duo believed in the monsters with all his heart, his soul, and every fiber of his being. He believed! And that was good, that was fine, that was, in fact, just peachy keen!

The chuckle sounded again, dark and sinister and full of terrible, frightful anticipation. Soon... Soon...

The door to the closet opened, just a crack, and a large dark shadow, more dark than even the night itself, if that was even possible, slithered out and slid along the floor and disappeared under the bed.

*****

Poor Duo! If he had only confided his fears of the dark and mysterious things that slither and go bump in the night to his foster parents... Then he could have avoided all this fluff and nonsense all together! It would have all been over in no time at all! To put it simply, no monster, no matter how fearsome, no matter how slimy, stood a snowball's chance in a very warm place against the strong, unwavering certainty of an adult. That calm assurance in all matters of nighttime terrors. To a grown up, monsters, at least the kind that lurked in the usual childhood haunts, such as in closets, under beds, in the dark recesses under the stairs simply did not exist! There was simply no room for doubt in their minds.

I'm not saying that grown ups are never afraid! Who am I to try to lie to you? Grown-ups, especially parents, actually spend a great deal of time being scared. Or should I say being very 'worried'. That's the adult equivalent of shaking in their combat boots terrified!

I'm sure you have all heard this line -or one very similar- at one time or another while growing up: "Where have you been? Didn't you know how worried I was! I almost sent the cops looking for you!"

Constantly worried equals scared! Try getting your mom and dads to admit it though! That is hard!

Adults worry about cavities, about your grades, your eyesight. They constantly fret over drugs, smoking, the rising crime rate, and teenage pregnancy. College tuition and learner permits! Oh my! Adults fear all kinds of things, but closet monsters? Vampires? Cooties? They just don't come even close to the top of the list! No sirree!

But the poor dear boy had had a difficult childhood. The braided youngster had grown to care for his foster family over the past four months, yes; he maybe even loved them a little. Hell, let's be honest. He did love them, a lot! Even little Alexis who spit up on his shoulder every single time he picked her up. But, hey! That was just what babies did. Eat, sleep, and puck up on your freshly washed shirts. Yuck! Gross OUT! But...it was an accepted fact of life. Live with it, or don't have children. It was just that simple.

But the real issue was not if he loved them, for he did! With all his heart! The real issue was trust. Did he trust his foster parents? Really trust them? Well... let's think about that for a moment. Giving someone your trust is a very big deal. It takes a lot of guts to trust someone, because just like love, trust can be betrayed. Shattered. Sometimes it didn't take much to sever that delicate bond, either. Nope, delicate as a snowflake, is our friend, Trust.

Duo trusted his foster parents not to hurt him, not to scream and yell in drunken, slurred voices. He trusted them to feed, clothe, and keep a roof over his head and to take care of him. He trusted them to make a fuss when he skinned his knees and elbows, to cuddle him and to kiss the booboo and make it feel all better... So, yes, in a way he did trust. Trusted in the way only a child could.

But... in this oh- so- important matter concerning the creepy crawlies that inhabited his closet, the slimy creatures that lived under his bed, and the invisible specters that haunted the laundry room? Sorry to have to break it to you, folks, but the young Duo Maxwell did not trust anyone with those important secrets. Not Roseanne, not Jeff, not even the nice counselor man who had sent him to his new family. The one with the huge elephant-like ears and the gaudy turquoise watch...

What if the child told any of these people about his fears and they didn't believe him? Worse yet, what if they made fun of him? Laughed themselves into hysterics? Called him a baby, chicken, scardy cat...? What if they considered him to be a coward, a sissy, or worse! Some sort of weirdo crazy freak who needed to be locked away in a padded room forever and ever? What if they stopped loving him, caring for him? That simply would not do! There was too much riding on the line!

So, in the end, Duo told no one about the terrible ordeal he was going through. There was simply too much at stake. Too much to lose! Sooo, he suffered in silence and lost a lot of sleep...

*****

A few days after the laundry room incident, a beautiful sunny, if frigidly cold Saturday, Duo was out shopping with Roseanne and Alexis. His foster mother slowly pushed the cart through the crowded store, meandering from point A to point B calmly. Stopping now and then to glance at this label or that nutritional guide. She was trying to watch her 'girlish figure'.

This just didn't make any sense to the small boy. She looked very girlish to him, with full breasts, and ample hips, long legs and that sunny smile. Dancing friendly eyes, so full of laughter. Just like a mother. Why she obsessed with her weight was anyone's guess. No one could call her overweight by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, she needed to put on a few pounds.

(Must be a girl thing.) Duo mused silently, then winced as Alexis grabbed a double fist full of his hair and yanked hard!

"Oooouuuuch!"

Duo had been doing his part of keeping the baby out of Roseanne's way by giving the queen of drool piggyback rides up and down the aisles. This fascinated the toddler to no end. Especially when the violet-eyed boy had been prancing about and making sounds like a pony. All that came to a screeching halt when the bundle of joy started using his hair as reins. Now, he let her walk about, if walking was what you could call it, holding her small, chubby hand and showing her all the pretty pictures on the cereal boxes. Alexis loved cereal - to shampoo with! The tiny girl never managed to get through a meal without getting stuff all over her fine, blond curls. Call it a talent.

Duo moseyed up to Roseanne, who stood by a large bin of fruit, peering intently at a peach. There was a small frown of concentration on her face. Was it a good peach or a bad peach? And how could you tell, anyway? A peach is a peach is a peach... She slipped the small fruit into a clear plastic bag for safekeeping. She turned about expectantly when she felt a tiny, hesitant tug at her sleeve.

The small child looked up into her face earnestly. In his outstretched hands he held a tiny package. On closer inspection it was revealed to be a... nightlight? It was one of those silly yellow happy faces. It was kind of cute, in a goofy sort of way, very friendly, very cheerful. Duo smiled almost guiltily up at his foster mother. Alexis clung to one of his legs, slobbering contentedly, leaving a large wet spot on the blue denim material.

"Roseanne, could I get this nightlight, please?"

Duo pleaded silently with his beautiful, large violet eyes, offering his cutest, most appealing smile. He hoped with all his might that his foster mother would say yes. The dark was becoming unbearable. Only crybabies used nightlights, he had reasoned, but after spending the last few nights miserably awake and terrified, he had changed his tune. He just didn't care anymore. His resolve had broken. Let her think he was some sort of chicken wuss, if she wanted. But he needed this nightlight! No joking around!

"Oh, please, pretty please, with sugar on top? Pleeeease!" he begged, clasping his hands together, clutching the nightlight as if it was a lifeline. Maybe it was...

Roseanne sighed.

"I told you not to read those scary stories, Duo. See, their giving you nightmares. Aren't they?"

The dark patches under the little one's eyes were proof enough that the boy had not been sleeping well. And she was not so foolish as to believe that Peter Pan was the cause of his nightmares. What harm could there be in letting him have a nightlight? It might even be good for him.

Duo did not respond to the comment about nightmares. (You better believe that I have been having nightmares! Terrible, scary dreams where I run and run with some dark unknown terror chasing me down dim hallways that stretched into eternity. Always just right behind me, ready to devour me the moment I stopped for air or stumbled and fell... But some stupid book had caused none of those dreams. Don't I wish that was all there was to it? It's all because of that stupid closet monster!) But the young boy voiced none of this to the woman standing before him. He just continued gazing up into her face with a frantic sort of desperation dancing just behind his eyes.

"Well, I guess you could have a nightlight." She began, "if that would help you feel any better..."

She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence because an overly excited Duo started dancing around, whooping and laughing. He picked up the baby and swung her about delightedly. Duo was so happy, so relieved about the night-light that he flung himself at the woman and kissed her heartily on the cheek, squishing Alexis between the two of them.

The boy's reaction sort of took Roseanne by surprise. While Duo had always been outgoing and friendly, he had never been one prone to physical demonstrations of affection. On the other hand, it proved to her that they had been making some sort of progress with him. He was finally opening up to her, to her husband. He was starting to treat them like family!

*****

The small child snuggled under a mass of blankets, breathing deep and even as he slipped deeper and deeper into the mystery that was sleep. For now, the boy felt safe as a bug in a rug for the first time in many nights. He had calmly gotten ready for bed. There had been no mad dash for the safety of his covers once the light had been switched off. There had been no need! He had a night-light! And every kid knew that no monster was able to stand light! He was safe from terror! It was a wonderful feeling to be sure!

Unfortunately, things had gone unchecked for too long. Even as Duo slept, lulled by the false security of the light, his subconscious mind knew the truth, and trembled. Things had progressed way beyond the point of no return! The creatures in the closet now merely laughed at the pitiful smiley-faced night-light. Where as just a few nights ago they would have been vanquished in defeat in it's charmed power! What harm could it do them now? They had gained too much power. Soon their ultimate goal would be achieved! Soon they would be able to freely enter the world of man! Not just by night! But in the golden light of day!

Soon...!

The sinister chuckle, thick as a clogged drain pipe, oozed out from the dark closet and inside that dark recess something undeniable huge shifted position with a sickly squelching sound. Dark anticipation filled the air with the acrid stench of fear. Even an adult entering the small bedroom now would have no trouble picking up the air of malevolence. They might pretend it didn't exist, but they would feel it.

Not long now...!

*****

Gasping in huge sobs, the boy fled, his footsteps muffled against the thick carpeting, long chestnut braid streaming out behind him. Lavender eyes bulged in fear as his heart hammered in his heaving chest and it hurt! It hurt! It felt like it would explode! Explode from running or from terror? It may seem like a close bet, but terror was in the lead. Way, way in the lead! The corridor was lined with rows of never ending doors, each one identical to its neighbor. Each door locked tight. The small boy knew this for he had tried them all in his desperate flight from the terrible beast that pursued him.

Terribly eager-squelching sounds could be heard behind the fleeing child. He could hear it behind him, coming faster and faster! And it was catching up!

(Oh, please, God, please, God! Please don't let it catch me, God!)

Duo wanted, needed to scream, to shriek his terror and hopelessness. But it was too big! It was lodged in his throat, choking him, fighting to be released. Desperately, the boy pushed himself harder than ever, arms and legs pumping furiously. If he could just reach the end of the hallway and the freedom he knew awaited him there! He would survive!

Suddenly, as if his will made it so, Duo slammed into the end of the hallway. The impact sent him reeling back. He almost lost his footing and fell into a tangle of arms and legs. Almost. He managed to catch himself in time. Somehow, he knew that if he fell, he would never get up again. He didn't know how he knew, and he didn't argue. It was a fact!

Tiny hands gripped the brass door handle and turned it, pulling. Nothing happened.

(Okay, just relax. Try it again!)

He turned the doorknob again. Still nothing! The boy began to whimper in frustration.

(Oh, please, oh please, oh please! Open!)

Frantically, he pulled and tugged and begged, but the door did not move, it did not open. Sweat trickled down the boy's waxy forehead and into his eyes. It stung, a lot! But he dared not take the time to wipe it away. The monster was thundering down upon him. Getting closer, and closer...

A helpless moan escaped the child's throat, high pitched and frantic. Tears streamed down his face and in the extremity of his fear, he was unaware he was crying, his pitiful whimpering. He twisted and twisted at the handle, his heart in his throat and he knew that if something doesn't give soon, he would die.

(Please God, Please God, Please, God, Please open the door!)

Just as Duo felt the creature rear up behind him, felt it's hot reeking breath on the back of his neck, felt it's misshapen shadow falling over his small pathetic form, Duo realized with a huge jolt that the door was locked! That's why it wasn't opening up! His hands flew to the locking mechanism and turned it in a desperate movement, praying that it wasn't too late, please don't let it be too late!

The doorknob turned... and opened! With a gasping sob of surprise, he plunged forward. Duo found himself in another corridor, exactly like the one he had just left. With a cry of relief, he slammed the door shut behind him. The wooden frame thudded loudly as something, something very large by the sound, slammed into it mere seconds later.

The thin boy fell against the door, sliding bonelessly towards the ground, as sweet relief flooding into his veins making him quiver, causing him to shake. His legs, his arms, heck, his whole body trembled violently, uncontrollably. His legs felt like Jell-O.

(Watch it wiggle...! See it jiggle...!)

The jingle from the long ago familiar commercial danced merrily through his head, repeating that one verse over and over again, like a broken record.

(I'm going crazy now! They'll lock me away and throw away the key! Fine! I need a vacation, anyway! Just as long as there is no closet, and I get to keep my nightlight!)

Duo struggled to gain control of his runaway heart; his gasping sobs sounding very loud in the crystalline silence of the corridor.

After a long, long time, Duo gained some control over his body. Burying his head in his hands, he began to laugh and cry at the same time, scrawny shoulders heaving from the sheer force of the tears. The laughter had a hysterical edge to it, but that was perfectly okay! In fact, the youngster would have really begun to doubt his sanity if he had not reacted in some way or another.

(I'm safe! The monster did not get me!)

After an eternity, the braided boy picked himself up from off the ground. He swiped at his pajamas to get rid of any dirt that may have clung to him. With a shuddering sigh, he wiped the tears off of his cheeks with one yellow sleeve and prepared to set about finding his way home.

In a black blur of movement, impossibly long arms dripping with unmentionable goo shattered through the wooden door and latched themselves about the slender form of the child. Pinning his arms to his side, covering his mouth before he had time to even draw breath! His eyes bulged in sheer terror as he was yanked up, up and off of his feet and back, back, faster than thought, than sound, than light! Crashing through the supposedly solid door and into the never-ending darkness. Where bright white fangs waited, dripping with saliva and blood, reaching out to engulf him...devour him...

Duo awoke abruptly, a strangled scream, breathy and shrill, ripping from his throat, small fists crammed against his mouth as if to hold back the terror that had flooded through him in those last few panic stricken moments. The acrid smell of his own fear filled his nostrils and cold sweat dripped from his face, drenched his violently trembling body, his sleep tangled sheets; his large violet eyes wildly scanned the confines of his bedroom. There was nothing there except for the trusty nightlight which burned steadily from its socket, it's yellow smiley face diligently standing sentinel against the lurking horde of nighttime creepy crawlies that seemed to forever leer at and threaten the hapless child. Helplessly the boy's eyes were drawn towards the dreaded closet. Fortunately, it was closed, closed tightly, just as it had been when he had gone to bed. He had made sure himself.

"It was a dream," panted the small boy, his head dropping to his heaving chest as relief washed over him, "only a dream…"

Drawing in one ragged breath, then another, and finally a third, Duo slowly regained his composure, and ran one slender shaking hand through his hair, whipping away the sweat that dripped into his eyes, stinging.

(I can't take much more of this…)

Suddenly, the brunette boy's head shot up as very faint slithering-scratching sound found it's way softly, stealthily to one pair of small ears. Terror rolled over and through Duo like a cold wave that threatened to suck under his mind, drag him into the dismal abyss that spun and churned like a whirlpool and never let him go. His heart began racing, a knot of apprehension twisting in his tummy. The sound had come from the foot his bed! But that was ridiculous, right? Totally absurd!

(Of course, it was absurd!) His mind screamed. (You didn't hear anything. Nope, nothing at all! That was just your overactive imagination. There is nothing under your bed, you baby! There simply cannot be any gross, disgusting creature under your bed. We've been through this a dozen times, already. There are no such things as monsters, no such thing as monsters, no such thing, NO SUCH THING! And besides, even if there were monsters, and I'm not saying there are, mind you, BUT… even if there were, you have a nightlight, for Pete's sake! And everyone knows that things that slither and go bump in the night CANNOT stand light!)

Again, the sound drifted up towards him, just a little louder, and a whole heck of a lot closer. Instead of staying at the bottom of the bed, an almost safe distance-almost, it sounded like it was slowly but steadily creeping its way up towards the head of the twin bed. The creature had apparently decided to come and say howdy. And you could bet your last dollar that it wasn't very friendly.

Duo cringed against the oak headboard, small white teeth clamping over his bottom lip, attempting to stifle the moan of terror that wanted to betray him, for to make any noise would surely attract the attention of the beast, and pressed his small cold hands against his mouth, pulling his lips away from his teeth in a lunatic imitation of a grin as the sound came again…right under him!

(No, no, no, no, NO! I did not hear that. No way. That's impossible! No fair! I have a nightlight! No monster can stand the light! That's against the rules! That's CHEATING!)

Against the rules or not, the sound was heard once more. Just as soft, just as sneaky. But not too sneaky, oh no! That would spoil the fun. IT wanted to be heard, wanted the fragile, trembling child to know that the shadows moved and slithered, lurked and stalked, waiting for the opportunity to pounce, devour, destroy… IT wanted him to be afraid… wanted to feel and taste the waves of terror that flowed off the boy like water from a water fountain. IT slurped it up and grinned a jagged toothed grin…all gleaming fangs and slobber.

And Duo was, without a doubt, afraid, but apparently, not enough. Not yet, anyway.

Violet eyes ballooned as the closet door began to slide open with a hellishly loud groaning, taking all the time it needed, all eternity if it so desired, the hinges shrieking small rusty screams. Slowly, slowly the door opened and the nightlight, protector of small children, heroic guard that stood firm against the terrors of the night, flared bright as magnesium reacting to the evil that dared venture forth, but still that door continued to open. With a loud tinkling, cracking sound, the light ruptured into a thousand glistening shards of glass, plunging the room into darkness just as a large hulking shadow began to emerge, from the now open closet, large sickly green orbs shining high above the carpeted floor.

(Oh my God! Eyes, those are eyes, oh yes they are!)

Now this had to be some spectacular optical illusion for nothing that large could have been dwelling in that small, cramped, insignificant closet. That was impossible!

Duo's mind began to slide down that long slippery descent into insanity. It had simply decided that enough was enough. (Count me out, pal…Adios, amigos!) He could almost physically feel it untie itself, felt it as it started breaking away from this reality, and darkness was closing in on him, shutting down his mental circuits in a desperate attempt to save his sanity. Dancing black spots crowded in around him and he wobbled, moaning low in his throat.

(I'm fainting, oh God, fainting… If I faint now, I will die, I'll die. I'll die, or something much, muchworse.)

What could possibly be worse than dying? Duo didn't know and he sure as heck didn't want to find out.

In desperation the small child brought one fist up towards his face smacking it sharply against his nose. The pain flared, intense, immediate, not to be denied. The sweet metallic taste of copper pennies threatened to drown him as blood began to spout. Damn, that hurt! But it managed to clear his mind, his vision.

In a desperate blur of motion, Duo sprinted for the door but as soon as his feet struck the ground, long dark tentacles shot out from under the bed wrapping themselves around his small pumping legs. They creeped up his legs and up towards his torso even before he had a chance to even reach the door. Those tentacles pulled him, held him suspended upside down, wrapping around the terrified child, confining his arms and legs, as he kicked, fought and struggled, all to no avail. The shadowy figure glided forward as if on wheels, fanged mouth open and saliva dripping. It drew nearer and neared and it smelled, Dear God, it reeked so bad, like garbage, rotten flesh, decomposing leaves left in stagnant water. Duo screamed loud and wretchedly.

*****

Roseanne awoke in her room with a start, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, one hand pressed between her breasts, the other reaching towards her husband. But that side of the bed was empty. She had forgotten that he would be working a double shift and would not be home until sometime around 8a.m. Panic wrapped itself about her heart, squeezing excruciatingly tight. Something had awoken her from a sound sleep, but what? Sweeping her eyes around the room told her nothing. It was dark, and still. Familiar shapes loomed in the dark, her armoire, the rocking chair her grandmother had given to her on her wedding night, the bookshelf. Everything was where it should be, and yet somehow seemed subtly out of place. As if someone had stolen into her room and cunningly adjusted all the furniture while she slept. Moving it just an inch, if that.

(You're being silly, Roseanne.)

A scream reverberated faintly throughout the house, or was it just her imagination? A sense of approaching doom hung in the air, heavy like humidity, wrapping around her like a wet wool blanket, smothering her. Something was wrong. But what was it? Some deep instincts buried and long forgotten screamed that there was evil lurking. No, pouncing!

Roseanne could not explain this feeling, but some small part of her brain seized upon it, recognizing it for what it was; the terror of the night, the scrapping of a tree branch against a glass pane, or perhaps claws, long razor sharp claws that sought to rip, tear, gouge? The soft slithering sounds, the tiny patter of creatures that scurried and lurked. Were they mice or something more sinister that walked in these walls at night…The simple dreadful belief in all those nightmare apparitions that lurked and hunted when the good pure light of the sun had abandoned the world, leaving it's children to fend off the fear, the superstition, the reality that man with his modern inventions had decided didn't really exist.

But they did exist, they did. In closets, under beds, in the dark recesses of dried wells and under stairs, in cool, dank forests anywhere, everywhere, as long as there was someone who believed, someone to set them in motion, to turn that oh so tiny key that would release them unto the world of man. At least until the sun rose and sanity returned casting away the fear as easily as light banished shadows.

Roseanne rose from her bed, donned her robe, and hurried through the hall. The scream had not been her imagination! Her baby was screaming, shrilly, in one continuous breath, screaming and wailing, as the poor thing had never done before. Terror gripped the young mother's heart with icy fingers. A dreadful sense that she was too late filling her soul.

(Too late? Too late for what?)

Bursting into the tiny nursery, Roseanne snapped on the lights, rushed to the crib and pulled the screaming child into her arms, offering murmurs of love and comfort, stroking the fine blond curls back from a tear streaked face. A quick examination showed that nothing was wrong with the child, at least nothing physical. And yet, the toddler continued to screech and arch her back, beating diminutive fists against her mother's torso. She kept yelling the same words over and over again. It took a few seconds, but eventually Roseanne was able to make out what her daughter was saying.

"Maamaa! Du-oh! Du-oh! Mama!"

Suddenly the feeling of dread solidified with an almost audible click. Something was horribly wrong with Duo! The blond woman did not know what precisely, only that he was in mortal danger. Her maternal instincts flared bright, instincts to love, nurture and protect! With teeth clenched in firm resolve, Roseanne set her baby down into the crib and raced out of the room and down the hall to the northern most bedroom, the one room in the entire house never warmed by a single golden ray of sunshine.

*****

Duo struggled for breath as the slime encrusted tentacles squeezed around his long, slender body, pinning his thrashing arms to his sides, stilling his wildly flailing legs, constricting like some horrific serpent, drawing the boy closer to the beast, bringing him face to face with a creature that denied imagination. It had many faces, but all of them were loathsome, horrifying: a rabid dog dripping saliva, ready to bare fangs, bite and mangle, a devil with leering green eyes and lolling tongue seeking out the souls of the unwary, the stranger lurking in shadows to destroy innocence and bathe in blood and terror. It was spiders; it was snakes with forked tongues, ghosts, ghouls, werewolves and vampires. It was everything and anything that could drive terror into the hearts of Mankind. It was all of these despicably loathsome things and yet none of them. It was and would always be known simple as EVIL. It wore many masks, but all recognized it for what it was.

Hot flesh grazed against his cheek, pressed against his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. A clawed hand gripped his chin and drew him closer to the creature. Duo twisted and turned his head frantically, but was not able to pull free. Moldering breath, the miasma of defiled graves assaulted his senses, seared his young lungs as he fought to breath, stung his eyes even behind closed lids, and scaled his smooth skin. Fleshy lips clamped over his mouth, inhaling sharply, a thick rattling sound as it absorbed the frail boy's essence, his spirit, his soul.

The small child screamed wordlessly into that invading mouth, his body convulsing, back bowing. Thin arms flail helplessly in the embrace of those binding coils of flesh, fists clenching and unclenching spastically. Hot tears flooded past clenched eyes as he felt his insides being devoured, dissolved…The creature was hollowing him out, sucking him dry and it hurt, it hurt, IT HURRRT!

Duo felt his strength, his will, his mind, dissolve away, as the part of him that made him a unique individual, that part was being stripped away layer by layer like an onion. His consciousness begins to fade as his body began to fail…he was dying, he could feel it, taste the darkness settling over him like a shroud. Pale extremities lost strength, gave up the struggle as waves of cold mist clouded his mind.

As Duo's struggles slowed and then finally ceased, the hideous creature from the closet raked one dagger like claw across its flesh, allowing its life force to flow freely. It cradled the now limp child to its chest much as a mother would hold an infant to nurse and pressed that small slack face against the wound allowing it's own hot blood to flow past unresisting lips. Clouded lilac eyes opened briefly then slid closed, thick lashes like soot against that oh so pale face, while the mind continued screaming, continued struggling long after the body had ceased doing so but fading away into the darkness that rushed in from all sides…

(NO! Help me, God! Oh, please help me!)

*****

A large callused hand rested lightly against Roseanne's shoulder, rousing her from a light slumber with a startled gasp. Blue eyes gazed into familiar brown ones and the exhausted woman relaxed visibly. She released a shaky breath and standing, wrapped her arms around her husband. Jeff planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head and eased them both onto the sofa.

"I got here just as soon as I could. How is he doing?"

The fair-haired woman released her husband with a sigh and gazed dully about the hospital's waiting room. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes but she refused to allow herself to cry. Not here, not in public.

"Well, they have him under heavy sedation… They want to keep him a few days so they can run some tests- some CAT scans and a bunch of other ones…" she trailed off, her voice failing her and she realized that she was going to cry whether she wanted to or not. Oh, damn it! "The doctor's don't know what's wrong with him… Maybe he has epilepsy or something…"

Jeff held her and murmured softly as he rocked her like a child. She was sobbing now, trying to speak, to tell him what had happened, or at least part of it, the part that he would believe at any rate. Her eyes were wide and terror filled as she retold the events that had transpired just a few short hours ago.

(Poor Duo, oh, my poor little boy!)

"It was horrible, Jeff, just awful! When I entered his room he was crumpled up on the floor, and he was just as white as a ghost, and so cold! I took him in my arms and I was so sure that he was dead…but then his eyes snapped open and he began to jackknife around, his back arching like a fish leaping out of the water. He was convulsing and…and screaming! Screaming as fast as he could draw breath! I've never heard anyone scream like that before, Jeff, NEVER! It was as if the Devil was coming up besides him to steal his soul." Roseanne stopped herself as images flooded her mind, unbidden.

(And maybe that's closer to the truth…but I can't say that…No one would ever believe me, anyway. I must have imagined that. Yes, that's it…I let myself get carried away…)

But deep in her heart she knew the truth. She could lie to the doctors, to Jeff, and maybe even to herself…at least while she was awake. But in her dreams, those evil images would linger forever, haunting her until her dying day. She had rushed headlong into the room and had been stopped dead in her tracks at the startling sight that had greeted her.

Poor Duo, so still, so pale, being held in the embrace of some gigantic monstrous being, his heart shaped face smeared with blood. The creature or was it creatures? It was so difficult to say, but anyhow, it had screeched, a high undulating sound almost like maniacal laughter, which sliced through the air as sharp as any knife. The sound had hurt her ears so that she clamped her hands over them protectively. And before her eyes it had dissolved away like cotton candy on the tongue, it had simply vanished, dropping the child to the ground with a boneless thud. What had it been? And what had it done to that poor defenseless boy?

*****

Violet eyes flickered open slowly, blinking a few times against the thin wintry sunshine that filtered into the room through the partially closed drapes that decorated the eastern window and fell across the bed at a slanted angle. His vision was blurred but it was gradually clearing. In total wonder the deathly pale boy held his hands out to the thin beams of light, half expecting them to burst into dazzling flames. But no, there was dim warmth, but no searing agony, no crisping of flesh, no spontaneous combustion. Amazing!

A smile twitched the corner of Duo's mouth then the smile became a grin, bearing smile pearly white teeth. It was not a pleasant grin, more like a snarl of a dangerous animal, a threat or promise of pain and terror. Deep in those amethyst eyes, something dark lurked black and forbidding, something malevolent stirred, bleeding into those brilliant purple orbs and transforming them into pools of glittering obsidian, cold as ice, promises of death and destruction.

"Mission accomplished."

The End