Companion

Do you remember when you were little, there was that place you were afraid of? A crawlspace in your house, or under the basement stairs. Or perhaps in the back yard or the woods nearby; a little nook under some bushes that only a child could reach.

You were afraid of that place, and you were right to be. You knew something evil dwelled there.

Sometimes you would go to peep into that place, to assure yourself that there was nothing there. But then the horror would rise in you, and just for an instant, you would see it crouching in the dark, staring out at you. And for that instant, a part of you would remember.

You had been in there once, and it got you. It did things to you. It grabbed you with its long, cold fingers and held you tight so it could press its placid, white face up to yours and force you to look into its eyes.

Its eyes. Tiny and pure black, in puckered sockets of corpse white wrinkled flesh. Its eyes showed you things. Things you still know deep within you. Things that visit you in the night when you are half asleep. Unspeakable horrors that slide into bed with you like slithering eels.

Do you know that it made a room for itself inside you? Inside your soul, it carved a little home for its essence. And one of these nights it will creep out into your consciousness and join you again. You will see it in the corner of your room, crouching, staring at you in bed with those black, black eyes. You will freeze, like a deer in headlights, and wait for it to creep up to you again.

And then it will show you more things.

And you will wake up in the morning and not remember.

But that corner of your room will haunt you.

And your soul will be smaller yet.

And it will wait inside you for its next visit.

Your companion.

Me.

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