Monster Under My Bed

By Kyle Adams

Roger Whitt has a monster under his bed. The creature is imaginary, but that doesn't make it any less hungry. Or dangerous.

Despite growing up into a respectable young man, Roger has kept the sense of wonder he had as a child. Because of this, he sees what other kids see: monsters hiding in the shadows, under beds, in closets, and around corners. These monsters have gotten stronger as Roger got older, and now they threaten his life.

If Roger can't keep a handle on his fears and learn to be a monster hunter, his own imagination will swallow him whole.

MONSTER UNDER MY BED is a novella, the beginning of a possible series. I recommend it to you if you enjoy adventure, protagonists that bite of more than they can chew, and a dose of imagination tempered with childhood nostalgia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kyle Adams
• Release date: Jul 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463521830

Kyle Adams

My name is Kyle Adams. I am a storyteller. I love stories so much. I've often lamented that my time here on Earth only allows me to experience a finite number of them. Every bit of world-building, plot twists, character quirks and defects, atmosphere and feeling, suspense and relief, it all matters to me. Nothing quite matches the feeling of discovering a new story, whether I am the storyteller or the receiver. I don't mean to diminish my own life's story, as I am also a husband, musician, martial artist, voiceover artist, video game designer and engineer. More importantly, I am a Christian and part-time preacher. I live in the southeastern US with my wonderful wife and three cats. Here's hoping that you'll enjoy experiencing stories with me!

Book preview

Monster Under My Bed

Copyright 2018 Kyle Adams

Published by Kyle Adams at Smashwords

Cover Art by Mason Tailsteak Williams

www.forwardcomic.com

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

About Kyle Adams

Other books by Kyle Adams

Connect with Kyle Adams

Acknowledgements

Dedicated to Reddit user Bonster85, who inspired this story

Many thanks to the friends and family who beta read this for me.

And thanks to you, the reader.

Part One

My first thought when I was bounced violently out of my sleep was, Oh no, did I forget to feed the dog? Unfortunately, the beast I had forgotten to feed was much bigger, much worse, and much less forgiving.

And was strong enough to toss my entire bed in the air.

I slammed into the ceiling, saw stars, and then fell into the calloused green hand of a genuine monster. My bed crashed back to the ground. The rest of the dangerous creature glared at me from the gaping hole under my bed, fangs gleaming.

Mm okay, I told my addled brain, it might be a good idea to wake up now.

A thunderous growl followed that shook my room, uneased my stomach, and rattled pictures off the wall. I went straight from deadbeat drowsiness to survival mode and lifted both hands in the air.

Whoa! I yelled. Hey there Mumb, old friend. Uh, fancy getting to chat with you this time of night.

That was not what the beast wanted to hear. It yanked me forward, and I curled up my knees just in time for them to slam into the bed frame. I sucked wind through my teeth as I braced myself against the bed and floor, unwilling to let him drag me into the shadows—and into his maw.

Ow.

The monster’s speech came out in, oddly enough, Pig Latin. OUYAY OMISEDPRAY EEMAY AWAY EASTFAY AWAY EEKWAY AGOWAY! Pig Latin sounds a lot scarier when whispered menacingly from a mouth that is straining to bite off your toes. For those not familiar with the dialect, he said, You promised me a feast a week ago! Which was, uh, true.

There’s been a setback–

IARLAY! (Liar!)

I swallowed the bile of fear that was gathering in my throat. My body shook. The bedframe cracked, and I was worried my knees would follow with the way I had myself braced.

I will not sleep again until you are fed, Mumb. Mark my words.

OURYAY ORDSWAY EANMAY OTHINGNAY. (Your words mean nothing.)

Pinky swear, I said, holding up one hand.

Mumb hesitated, then dropped me. I didn’t have time to catch my breath. Monsters aren’t that patient. Instead, I spun to my knees and met the creature’s monstrous pinky with my own. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, I said.

OUYAY ILLWAY IEDAY IFWAY OUYAY EEPSLAY ILEWHAY IWAY UNGERHAY. (You will die if you sleep while I hunger.)

I know, I said, standing up and putting slippers on my feet. That’s what I promised. I’ll get to it.

The large hand retreated under my bed, and I let out a sigh of relief.

My name is Roger Whitt. I’m… something of a