Each week, I send out a story via my email newsletter. Each story is around 1000 words, sometimes less, sometimes more. The stories are in a variety of genres: supernatural, thriller, sci-fi, horror, and sometimes romance, and all of my stories typically feature a gay protagonist.
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This is story number 5 of the series. Enjoy!
The Midnight Visitor
Tyler jolted awake, his heart thundering like a drum in his chest. There it was again—a faint, persistent scratching, like nails on chalk, coming from beneath his bed.
His hand trembled as he reached for his phone on the nightstand, the screen casting ghostly luminescence across his nightstand. 2:37 AM. The scratching continued, more desperate now. Scratch-scratch. Scratch-scratch.
“What the hell?” Tyler muttered. Living alone in this dilapidated Victorian house, he was accustomed to the occasional eerie creak or groan, but this was different. This sounded intentional. Alive.
Gingerly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, toes recoiling as they touched the cold, warped hardwood. Dust motes danced in the beam of his phone’s light as he groped for the baseball bat he kept nearby—a relic from his collegiate days. Clutching it with both hands, he inched forward and peered into the inky void under the bed. Two glowing, amber eyes stared back at him.
“Jesus!” Tyler recoiled, heart skipping a beat. The thing under the bed let out a guttural growl, low and menacing—a sound of primal warning. Tyler’s mind raced. A raccoon? A stray cat? No, the growl was too deep, too filled with malice.
With a shaky exhale, he flicked on the bedside lamp, squinting as the dim light flickered, struggling to illuminate the room. He blinked as his eyes adjusted. Steeling himself, he knelt and looked under the bed again. The creature remained enshrouded in shadow, but now Tyler could make out the outline of a massive, heaving body, covered in matted fur that reeked of wet earth and decay. The glowing yellow eyes that fixed on him shimmered with a malevolent intelligence.
“Okay, okay,” Tyler stuttered, his voice shaking. “Just… I’m going to open the door, and you can leave, alright?” He began to inch backward, not taking his eyes off the monster.
Suddenly, a clawed hand, grotesque and covered in coarse, black fur, shot out, swiping at his ankle. Tyler cried out as sharp claws grazed his skin, and he swung the bat in a wide arc. It connected with a sickening thud. The creature shrieked, an inhuman wail that chilled the blood.
Tyler bolted for the bedroom door, wrenching it open and thundering down the stairs, the creature’s heavy breaths and the clicking of its claws close behind. At the bottom, he turned, bat raised. “Come on, you bastard!” he roared, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
The creature loomed at the top of the stairs, a grotesque silhouette—a twisted combination of wolf and nightmare, muscles bulging under matted fur, fangs bared in a snarl. Tyler’s resolve faltered and he felt his knees go weak. This couldn’t be real. Monsters like this didn’t exist—shouldn’t exist. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist outside of nightmares and horror movies.
The monster lunged, and Tyler swung with all his might. Crack! The bat struck true, and the creature stumbled, dazed. Tyler didn’t hesitate. He ran for the front door, yanked it open and sprinted out into the night, not daring to look behind him.
The cool air filled his burning lungs as he raced down the street, bat still clutched in his white-knuckled grip. After a few blocks, he dared a glance over his shoulder. The street was empty, the creature wasn’t following. He slowed, chest heaving, mind racing. Who would believe this madness?
Tyler’s mind reeled. Should he call the cops? And tell them what – that the Wolfman — or something like a Wolfman — had crawled out from under his bed? They’d think he was high, or crazy. He needed help, but who would believe him?
He scrolled through his contacts, fingers slick with sweat, and stopped at Marcos—his ex, a cop, and perhaps the only person who might believe him. Within twenty minutes, Marcos arrived. Tyler poured out the whole story, watching the other man’s face go from skeptical to worried.
“Show me, Ty” Marcos said finally, unholstering his gun. They crept back to Tyler’s house, pulses pounding. The front door hung open, claw marks gouged into the wood.
Marcos went in first, weapon raised. “Police! Come out with your hands up!”
Silence. They searched the whole house, but found no trace of the creature. Marcos lowered his gun, giving Tyler a long look.
“I swear I’m not making this up,” Tyler pleaded. “You have to believe me.”
“I believe you,” he said quietly, despite the disbelief shadowing his features. He stared at the deep gashes on the floor. “There’s more out there than we understand. I’ve seen things on this job, things I can’t explain. But this…”
He took out his phone and made a call, speaking in low, urgent tones. Tyler caught snippets – “not human”, “contained”, “backup”.
“The cavalry’s on its way,” Marcos said, looking grim.
Tyler felt a rush of gratitude, and something else – an ember of the old spark that had once burned between them. “Thank you,” he said softly.
Marcos’ eyes met his, a familiar mix of exasperation and tenderness. He “bumped shoulders with Tyler. “Just like old times, huh? Me saving your ass.”
Tyler managed a shaky laugh. “Except the monsters were usually metaphorical back then.”
A few minutes later, an urgent flurry of activity descended on the quiet street—black SUVs, agents in suits, strange equipment that hummed with an unsettling frequency.
As dawn bled into the sky, a woman in a crisp suit finally approached them. “Mr. Kowalski, the entity is contained,” she stated, her voice devoid of warmth. “It’s best you forget this night ever happened. For your safety, we’ll handle it from here.”
Tyler gaped at her. “That’s it? What the hell was that thing? Where did it come from? How did it even get in?”
She met his gaze, her eyes hard as flint. “Some truths are better left unexplored. You’re safe now—that should suffice. Goodbye, Mr. Kowalski. And thank you for your cooperation.”
With that, she turned on her heel and strode away, barking orders. Tyler turned to Marcos, overwhelmed. Marcos reached out for Tyler’s hand and they intertwined fingers. Tyler sighed at the familiar touch of Marcos’s hand.
“Spooky Men in Black shit,” Marcos muttered. “Never a good sign. But at least it’s over.”
The reality of the unknown weighed heavily on Tyler. He exhaled slowly. “Is it? Will it ever really be over, now that I know things like this exist?”
Marcos squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I got you. I’m not losing you again, monsters or no monsters.”
Tyler leaned into him, allowing himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a light at the end of this surreal tunnel. That light was Marcos, and the promise of a new beginning rising with the sun.