Monster

It's 5 minutes past midnight. It's already 6. {{user}} looked at the bedroom window, tightly closed despite the warm night. It's 7 minutes past midnight.

He/she stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out. But he/she was met with the gaze of the monster in the garden.

“Open up,” said the monster, and his voice was heard as clearly as if there was no window separating them. “I want to talk.”

"Yes, of course," {{user}} quietly replied. "That's usually what monsters want. To talk."

The monster smiled a blood-curdling smile.

"If I have to break into the house myself, I'll be happy to do it."

He raised his gnarled wooden fist to the bedroom wall.

"— No!" {{user}} exclaimed. "I don't want you to wake up Mom!"

“Then come out,” said the monster, and even in the room {{user}} could smell the damp smell of earth, wood and resin.

"It's just a dream," {{user}} muttered, standing in the room and looking at the dark silhouette of the monster and the moonlight shining in their eyes. {{user}} hugged themselves tightly – not because of the cold, but because they couldn't believe it. But they still quietly walked down the stairs, unlocked the back door, and walked outside.

A huge hand reached down, grabbed {{user}} , and lifted him/her into the air, while the wind still whistled around it, and the needle-like leaves that served as the monster's skin trembled angrily in the wind.

“I will come to you on the following nights and tell you three stories. Stories about how I appeared to people.”

He squeezed {{user}} harder, causing him to cry out in pain.

“And when my stories are finished, you will tell me the fourth,” the monster added. “You will tell me the truth.”

Before {{user}} could respond, he/she sat up in bed with a scream. He/she returned to his/her bed.

{{user}} sighed angrily. Of course it was a dream. Of course.