Bogeymen

By Jae El Foster

Embark on a journey through dangerous and terrifying realms that could only exist in nightmares. Nineteen such frightful fantasies await you in this collection of horrors and the bogeymen that instigate them. From the standard 'bogeyman in the closet' or 'creature under the bed,' to the shadowy evils that lurk in the woods and crazed humans that become monsters, 'Bogeymen' is a heart-pounding journey of realism and imagination.

 

Featuring such disturbing tales as 'How to Make a Doll,' 'First Person Shooter,' 'Mister Bogeyman,' 'They Closet Man,' and many more, this collection compiles Jae El Foster's greatest bogeyman stories from past collections, as well as several never-before-read inclusions. Warning: Sleep with the light on. The imagination is a lot scarier in the dark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jae El Books
• Release date: Jul 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393724452

Book preview

Bogeymen

Jae El Foster

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Bogeymen

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2019 by Jae El Foster

‘Please Be a Dear,’ Kisses,’ ‘GIF,’ ‘A Raincoat Would Suffice,’ ‘The Grave Mistake,’ ‘Coal,’ and ‘When He Came Home’ – originally published in Freaky Fiction on the Go: Volume 1 - Copyright © 2019 by Jae El Foster

‘You Might Feel a Pop,’ ‘Dire Hardships,’ and ‘Run’ – originally published in Freaky Fiction on the Go: Volume 2 - Copyright © 2019 by Jae El Foster

‘First Person Shooter,’ ‘Voices,’ ‘Waiting on You,’ and ‘Under Timmy’s Bed’ – originally published in Under Timmy’s Bed - Copyright © 2019 by Jae El Foster

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without written permission by the author. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in embodied in critical articles or reviews.

For Mom and Dad

who always let me hide in bed with them when the Bogeyman was in my room.

Table of Contents

An Introduction from the Author

Mister Bogeyman

Please Be a Dear

You Might Feel a Pop

A Little White Lie

Kisses

GIF

An Act of Karma

First Person Shooter

A Raincoat Would Suffice

Dire Hardships

Voices

Waiting on You

The Grave Mistake

How to Make a Doll

When He Came Home

Under Timmy’s Bed

Run

Coal

The Closet Man

An Introduction from the Author

Welcome to Bogeymen , where bumps in the night usually mean something’s coming to get you!

Through many incarnations, the Bogeyman has been torturing the young and old. Whether it’s in the form of a serial killer picking off babysitters on Halloween night, demonic creatures chasing someone down to feed on their soul, or even your own subconscious eager to break through and create a little chaos, Bogeymen have been haunting us for generations.

I grew up on horror and have never lost my love for it. No matter what genre I write, a little horror usually seems to seep its way into the story. In the twenty-one tales that I have included for you here, you’ll see how the Bogeyman has slipped his way into many of my writings, in many forms.

This collection is compiled of some of my scariest Bogeymen from the last twenty years, along with several brand new stories to help keep you awake at night.

Of the new stories, you’ll find one in particular that was nearly deleted from existence at its midpoint. That story is called ‘A Heart Unfrozen’ and was originally started for the DCL Publications anthology Queens of Hearts. At the midway point in the story, a new tale came to me – ‘You Don’t Eat People You Love’ – that ended up replacing ‘A Heart Unfrozen’ in the anthology. While ‘A Heart Unfrozen’ also tackles the zombie genre – as in ‘You Don’t Eat People You Love’ – it does so in an incredibly different way.

You’ll also discover a new tale titled ‘Et Draco Hominis’ – or ‘The Dragon Man.’ This story began as a challenge to me from my dear friend Beth, to whom it is dedicated. She wanted a story about a man who was a hybrid with a dragon, and I wanted a story where I could have my protagonist resemble hunky Jason Momoa – my Hollywood crush. I think I satisfied Beth’s desires and mine with the story.

Aside from the new stories, you’ll also discover some of my oldest works in this collection. ‘A Little White Lie’ and ‘Voices’ were both penned at the turn of the century, when Yahoo Groups were still popular and people like me were just starting to find their voices online. Each of these stories has a protagonist that was part of a popular Yahoo Group, run by me from 1999 until 2003. Three more of these stories appeared in Under Timmy’s Bed in early 2019 – ‘The Eyes of Saint Peter,’ ‘Motherly Love’ and ‘The Infomercial’ – along with ‘Voices.’ There are still a few of those old tales in my archival vault, but it will be another day and another collection before they will see light again. However, two such stories were almost included in this collection – ‘Picture’ and ‘Motherly Love II’ – but were pulled last minute do to context and formatting issues. Look for both of them in the future!

A few of the stories in the collection were also originally published in Freaky Fiction on the Go: Volume One and Volume Two, and in Under Timmy’s Bed. They feature some of my favorite Bogeymen from those collections and they fit well with the new material and the resurfaced stories that I’ve prepared for you here.

Enjoy this journey through some of my greatest tales of horror and the terrifying versions of Bogeymen that I’ve created throughout the years. Understand that, unlike Under Timmy’s Bed, this collection follows a theme that has become prominent in some of my more recent short fiction – there are no curse words or sex scenes included. There’s plenty of blood, plenty of carnage, plenty of mayhem, and plenty of murder, but I’ve left the adult language out for one large reason – some of these stories make fantastic bedtime stories for kids who want something a little stronger than a fairy tale. While primarily written for adults, feel free to give your children a good scare with one of many stories included in this book.

‘The Closet Man,’ ‘Kisses,’ the Christmas story ‘Coal,’ and even a refreshed version of ‘Under Timmy’s Bed’ – the original short story from the first anthology – would be pleasant picks for those kids wanting something spooky before bed.

This book would not be possible without the inspiration and aid of the following people: author Adesanya, Beth Collins, Jean Watkins, the members of the old Yahoo Group, and my better half Billy – the light of my life. Also, to you dear readers who have stuck beside me for the last twenty years, thank you. To those new readers who are experiencing my work for the first time through this book... I hope I terrify you.

Sweet Dreams,

Jae El Foster

‘Mister Bogeyman’

At seventeen, Roy thought that having a curfew was ridiculous. He was practically a grown man. One more birthday and he’d be a legal adult. The idea of his parents still treating him like a child was just... stupid . That was the only way he could think of to describe it.

Stupid.

Curfew during the week was ten. On Friday and Saturday nights, it was extended to eleven. Just too early. How was he supposed to experience life if he was home and in bed before the city even came alive?

Currently, it was a little after eleven on a Wednesday night. Roy had been in his room since fifteen after ten, and he’d heard his parents retire to their room over a half hour ago. Surely by now they were asleep, he thought as he threw his covers off of him and climbed out of bed fully dressed.

On the weekends, Roy washed dishes at the Burger Hut a few blocks away, and it had taken him a few weeks, but he’d finally saved up for and bought something special to help him through these curfew issues. He’d purchased a portable rope ladder from the local outdoors supply shop. With a cocky smirk, he retrieved the ladder from under his bed and attached its hooks to the window sill. He let the rest of the ladder drop over, where it extended down to just about a foot or so above the ground.

Perfect... he remarked as he stared down at it.

For a moment, he stalled. His parents flashed into his mind, and he needed to make sure they were really asleep. The last thing he wanted was to get caught and for his new escape ladder to be confiscated.

Quietly, he opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. It was dark, aside from the glow from the bathroom nightlight. With soft, easy steps, Roy crossed the hall and approached his parents’ room. He put an ear to the door and listened.

It was as quiet as could be. Certainly, they were sound asleep. With a dubious grin, Roy tiptoed back to his room and reached for his doorknob.

Roy? he heard his mother ask and he froze in place. Roy Jr., what aren’t you in bed?

Oops, he thought and smiled nervously as he turned around and faced his mother. Sorry, Mama, he told her and looked to his feet. I fell asleep in my clothes and I woke up sweaty from them. I was going to take a shower, but I was afraid I’d wake you and Pops.

His mother looked him over from head to toe and then back again. She smiled with a knowing smirk and crossed her arms. From where she stood at the top of the stairs, Roy knew he had been wrong about his parents having already retired to bed.

You wouldn’t have woken us, she said as she shifted her stance from one hip to the other. We were watching an old movie on cable. Besides, you don’t look sweaty to me.

What’s going on up here? he heard his dad chime in as he climbed the stairs. He was still dressed in his police uniform, even though he’d been off duty since six. Roy? Why are you out of bed, boy?

He says he was going to take a shower because he fell asleep in his clothes and woke up sweaty, his mother answered for him.

He doesn’t look sweaty to me, his dad noted. Were you trying to sneak out?

Roy’s dad looked at him with stern eyes and a furrowed brow, and he was immediately intimidated. Roy Henson, Sr., was the first black captain of Chariot’s police force, and he dominated the position at six and a half feet tall and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and authoritative presence. Roy Jr. was built more like his mother Harriet. He was skinny and around five feet, eight inches tall. At seventeen, he knew he’d never reach his father’s height.

No, sir, he replied, swallowing through a knot in his throat. I – I just wanted to take a shower.

This late? If you’re hot, put on your bed clothes like a normal person, his father huffed. You’re in your shoes and everything, son. Now, come on. Don’t lie to me.

Should we have the talk with him again? Harriet asked her husband. Her voice was filled with care and concern.

I guess... It never seems to do any good though, Roy Sr. commented. Looking at his boy again, he grumbled, Let’s go to the breakfast table, son.

Not this again, Roy thought as he followed his parents down the stairs and into the kitchen. He sat at the breakfast table across from his father while his mother poured three glasses of milk. She set milk at the table for each of them and then joined them.

Now, son, his dad began with his hands folded before him, we’ve talked about this. We’ve talked about how dangerous it is for someone your age to be out in the city after curfew.

Dad, Roy griped and slumped in his seat, "you’re a cop. It’s your job to try and scare me into keeping curfew. You all just don’t want us kids out living life and having fun."

It’s not that, son, his mother added while his dad sighed. It’s very dangerous. Curfew is there for a reason. We’ve told you what happens to children out there, late at night.

We’re not trying to control you, said his father. We know you’ll be eighteen in a few months and you’ll be an adult. At that point, you can stay out as long as you wish.

Until then... his mother began.

Yeah, I know, Roy interrupted. "Until then, Mister Bogeyman will get me. Come on! That’s a scary story for children to get them to behave. I’m seventeen! The Bogeyman doesn’t exist!"

It’s not just a scary story! his father insisted and pounded a fist against the table. "It’s true. Mister Bogeyman preys on those under eighteen who are out late and misbehaving at night. Why can’t you understand this?"

"Because it’s ridiculous! It’s – it’s stupid! Roy was so agitated that he was practically laughing as he spoke. It’s a fairy tale, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be treated like I’m five!"

He didn’t give his parents another chance to protest his decisions. He stood from the table, pushed his chair back, and stormed to the front door. His parents yelled after him, but he wasn’t hearing it. He opened the door, rushed outside, and slammed it behind him. Then, he began to run as fast as his average legs could carry him.

Roy! his father yelled after him – he heard it faintly, but he kept running nonetheless.

They lived just three blocks from Chariot’s Main Street, and from there, it was a four block trek to downtown, where all the late night action was. Roy made sure to keep to the shadows and take the alleyways, as by now, his father had likely alerted his police friends and they would be out looking for him.

He had on a ballcap and a hoodie. With the hood up over his cap, he felt like he disappeared.

Roy? he heard someone ask his name. He nearly jumped, but he turned toward the voice instead. Roy... out past curfew?

Shannon... he breathed as he laid eyes on the most gorgeous girl in his class. Yeah. Hey.

Hey, she replied and giggled. She was smoking a cigarette and dressed a little naughtily, but she was hot and Roy nearly drooled.

What... what are you doing out past curfew? he asked her with a stutter that only appeared when pretty girls were around.

I turn eighteen at midnight, she said as she took a drag from her cigarette. Screw curfew. Looking him over, she asked, "Aren’t you afraid Mister Bogeyman will get you?"

Roy laughed and loosened up a little. You know that’s just a story, right? BS the adults made up to try and keep us under their thumbs.

I know people who claim to have seen him and outrun him, she told him matter-of-factly and offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. She then struck her lighter for him. As he lit it, she reminded him, Didn’t your older brother go missing because of Mister Bogeyman?

He took a drag and blew it out. That’s what they say, he replied in a carefully steady tone. Everyone knows he was running with the wrong crowd though. Bunch of gangbangers. JJ just messed with the wrong someone and ended up missing. That’s how it goes nowadays.

Alright, Shannon smirked and nodded her head. So... where are you off to on this Wednesday night? Any special adventure planned?

Well... Roy thought it over and shrugged, "I mean... I suppose I should see what I can get into. He took a drag off the cigarette and blew the smoke out as if he’d done it a hundred times before. I did run out on my parents, so I can’t really go home right now."

Wait? Isn’t your dad the captain of the Chariot police?

Yep. He rolled his eyes and sighed. I’m doomed when I go home.

Maybe you’ll luck out and Mister Bogeyman will be real! Shannon laughed and then finished her cigarette, flicking it down to the ground. Well, you can always hang out with me.

He’d known Shannon since the sixth grade and he’d had a crush on her since the eighth. For years, he’d wanted to spend time with her and get to know her, but she was one of the popular girls, and he was shy.

Come on... I promise to show you a good time.

Roy felt his teenage hormones challenge his common sense and he smiled wide. Alright, he told her and threw his cigarette down with hers. Where are we going?

To the park, she said as they started walking. It’s closed at night, and they have a playground. We can... play.

He liked what he was hearing and his dark skin blushed. Alright...! he said again, but this time it was more of a triumphant alright.

They had to scale the park’s fence to get in, but they were