The Monster Under The Bed 4

I'm not a professional writer. This is pure fantasy, just for fun. Enjoy the story with all its flaws.

The Monster Under The Bed

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The summer before Damien started school his parents moved from Vancouver to Ottawa. They sold their house and temporarily moved in with his grandparents. They would take care of Damien during the summer while his parents worked at their new jobs and searched for a new place to live.

Grandma and Grandpa lived in the country, in a rambling 150 year old farmhouse. It was an old place with lots of additions, and had odd corners and strangely shaped rooms. There were little closets that fit into corners or under the eaves, and built in cupboards in many rooms and hallways. So many places for an inquisitive boy to explore. There was even a secret door that went from the back stairs behind the dining room and into the garage. It was an awesome place for a an active and curious little kid like Damien. The yard was amazing too, with big trees to climb and a creek with a pond and a dock he could fish off of with Grandpa.

There was one more thing in the old house that Damien discovered. A monster under the bed.

Damien heard a small noise under the bed the first night he was there. It sounded like something moving down there, a scuffling scratching sound. He was scared, so he hid under the covers. He listened to see if the noise was still there, and he heard it again. He didn't know what to do, so he said "Hello?"

There was silence for a while, then small voice answered "Hello. What's your name?"

He was terrified, and a jolt of fear swept through him, but he answered. "I'm Damien."

"Hello Damien. I'm Gwendolyn." The voice wasn't actually scary, but he was still frightened out of his wits.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" he asked.

"I live under your bed. This is my home. Why are you here?" Her voice was very very quiet and he had to listen hard to hear her.

"I'm staying with Grandma and Grandpa."

"I haven't seen you before."

"I just got here."

"How long will you be here?"

"I don't know. How long have you been here?"

"A long time."

Curiosity was beginning to win out over fear. "Are you a girl?" She sounded like a girl.

The voice laughed softly and said "I'm a girl, but I'm not like you. I'm a monster."

A MONSTER? Under his bed?! This was like the scary stories he'd heard. His neighbour Jimmy talked about scary things all the time back home, things just like this. But there was no such thing as monsters. All the adults said so. They said Jimmy was teasing him. This had to be something else.

"W-what do you want?"

"I want to be your friend. I don't have any friends. Will you be my friend, Damien?"

She sounded so quiet and so nice and so sad that his fear began to fade. And he thought that having a new friend would be good. He'd left all his friends behind in Vancouver. The farmhouse was nice, but he missed his friends. He had no one to play with. "Yes. I can be your friend."

"Oh, that's wonderful." Gwendolyn said. "Do you like games?"

"Oh yes, I love games."

"Then let's play a game. It's a guessing game. I will think of something and you have to guess what it is. You can ask me five questions and then you have to guess."

That sounded like a good game, so he agreed. He stayed up for hours that night playing guessing games with Gwendolyn. First she made him guess, then it was her turn to guess what he was thinking about. When Damien started yawning she said 'Goodnight Damien' and he fell asleep.

He told Grandma and Grandpa about the monster under the bed the next morning, and that her name was Gwendolyn and they played guessing games. They didn't believe him, and wanted to know if he wanted to stay in their room with them if he was scared of being alone in the guest room. Damien told them he liked the room he had and didn't want to move.

The days were filled with playing in the yard and the garage. Grandpa let him help him with his woodworking projects in the shop out there. Damien also liked to fish and swim in the pond. The nights were filled with talking to his new friend, the monster under the bed. They played word games and math games and told each other stories. Some stories were true and some were made up. Even when he spent hours talking to Gwendolyn and only got a little bit of sleep he wasn't tired the next day. And all she had to say was 'Goodnight Damien' and he would fall right to sleep.

And for some reason, no one ever heard them talking, even when they were laughing and getting really loud. When Damien shushed her one night for being too loud, she told him that no one else could hear them when we were together. It was magic, she said. He stopped trying to talk to Grandma and Grandpa about Gwendolyn. They didn't understand.

Damien lived with his grandparents for a month, then his parents found a new house in town. They moved in and unpacked everything. He made new friends on his street, and then more new friends when he started school. He missed talking to Gwendolyn at night. When he talked about her, his parents scoffed at the idea of monsters under the bed, and bought him a night light. His new friends teased him for making up stories or being afraid of the dark. So Damien learned not to talk about Gwendolyn.

They went to visit his grandparents at Thanksgiving, and Gwendolyn was there each night. They talked and talked all night long. He told her all about his school, his new friends, and their new house. She told him stories and they played games. When they left he stopped in the guest room to say goodbye, but Gwendolyn was always silent during the day. And she was never at his new home, only under the old bed at the farmhouse.

He kept Gwendolyn a secret, and talked to her every time they visited his grandparents' place for holidays or summer vacation. Years passed, and their conversations were always at a level that was almost too sophisticated for Damien to understand. Gwendolyn always forced him to stretch his imagination and understanding and intelligence. And she seemed intensely interested in his life and everything he was doing at home.

When Damien was 16 his grandfather passed away. He stayed at the old house with his parents and grandmother for a few days, first for the funeral and then to help Grandma sort through her things to get ready to leave. She was moving into a retirement home, as she couldn't take care of the big rambling old farmhouse by herself.

Damien told Gwendolyn what was happening, and she sounded sad, because he wouldn't be back to visit her anymore.

"Hey, what if I took this bed home? You could come with me."

"I don't think that would work Damien. I'm tied to this locus."

"What's a locus?"

"It's a special place, this room, this house, and the bed, all together. If you move the bed you disrupt the locus."

"I can try, can't I?"

"Yes, you can try. I hope it works, but I'm not counting on it."

"What will happen to you if we move the bed, or sell the house, or tear it down or something?"

"I don't know. I'm sad, Damien. I don't want to lose you. You're my only friend."

"I don't want to lose you either. I'll try taking this bed home with me. Maybe it will work, and we can be talk every night."

"I'd like that, but I'm still afraid."

"Don't be scared Gwendolyn, It'll work, I guarantee it."

"Thank you. I hope so. Goodnight Damien." And with that, he was asleep.

The next morning he asked what the plans were for the house and the furniture. The house was being sold. His parents wanted some of the furniture, but most of it would go to charity. Damien asked if he could have the bed from the guest room he always stayed in. They were surprised, but it was a nice old walnut bed frame, nicer than what he had at home, so they agreed. It came with a couple of matching chests of drawers, which would be a tight fit in his room, but he could have them too, if he wanted.

When the small moving truck pulled up at their house the next weekend, Damien had already cleared out his room. He'd slept on the floor the night before, thinking the truck would arrive a day earlier. That night, with the old bed set up in his room, he laid down and called out softly for Gwendolyn. There was no answer. He waited all through the night, whispering her name, and eventually cried himself to sleep just before dawn. She was gone. It didn't work. His friend was gone, with no way to find her or bring her back. Every night for weeks, he would whisper her name at bedtime, to no avail.

Damien was unhappy for a while, but life in high school was a potent distraction. Track team, swimming team, driving lessons, classes, homework, and girls caught his attention. He had his first date, his first kiss, and his first heartbreak. It was actually his second heartbreak, if he would admit he had feelings for Gwendolyn, but he had pushed her out of his mind. She wasn't real anyways. Everyone said there was no such things as monsters under your bed. It was just a childhood fantasy he told himself.

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In his final year of high school he turned 18 just before graduation. His birthday party was a bunch of friends getting together to play laser tag and eat pizza. He didn't have a girlfriend because his most recent girlfriend had agreed with him that when they left for university they wouldn't be able to maintain a relationship. They'd gone to Senior Prom together and had a nice time, but it was more like hanging out with a friend than a date.

A week after his birthday party, with his high school diploma hanging on the wall now, Damien was lying in bed, thinking about the future. He was going to be working hard all summer to save money for school. Then it was off to Queen's in Kingston. It was going to be an adventure, that was for sure. He was filled with nervous anticipation. Just as he was drifting off to sleep he heard a small noise, like a fingernail scratching the floor.

"Mmm?" he murmured.

"Damien." came the faintest of whispers, almost inaudible.

His eyes flew open. "Gwendolyn?"

The whisper returned, louder this time. "Damien, I found you! I was lost for so long. But I'm here, I've finally found you."

"Gwendolyn! Where did you go? You were lost?"

"Yes, when the bed and the house were separated, I couldn't find you again. I almost gave up, but I kept searching. And I found you. Oh Damien, I've missed you so much!"

"I missed you too. I was sad when you weren't here after we moved your bed. How did you find me?"

"I don't know. I just kept searching. Talk to me, please." came the quiet plaintive reply.

He started talking, and she asked him about his life, what had happened over the last two years. They talked on and on, all night, until just before dawn, when she said "Goodnight Damien." He woke a short while later feeling... different. More alive, more real, invigorated, and ready for anything. Gwendolyn was back! And he was eager to talk to her the next night.

And she was there now, every night. They talked and talked. Once again, she pushed his mind further and further, making him think about things he'd never considered before. This was so much more interesting and challenging than school ever was. His life had more focus now. He started getting books out of the library and reading more just to keep up with Gwendolyn's questions.

When she started asking him about girls, he wasn't so confident, as he'd never done more than kiss a few times. But she teased and tantalized him, making him think about and talk about girls. And think of them as more than sex objects. She made him think about girls as people, with goals and desires and potential equal to but different than his own.

One night he asked Gwendolyn a question that had been nagging him, floating around in the back of his mind for weeks. "Gwendolyn, are you real?"

"Of course I'm real. I'm talking to you."

"No, I mean, are you physically real?"

A brief silence, followed by "Yes, I am real. Or I can be, if I need to."

"Can I see you?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not."

"Well, I'm a monster. I'm not like you. You wouldn't like me, not if you could see me."

"Shouldn't I be the judge of that?"

"Touche. I've taught you well, haven't I?"

"Will you show me?"

"Damien. I'm afraid. I don't want to lose you. And I cannot see how you would ever speak to me again if you saw me."

"I'll always be here for you."

"You say that..."

"I mean that."

"I'll think about it. Goodnight Damien."

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"Gwendolyn?"

"Hello Damien." Her voice was flat and unemotional. Not at all how she usually sounded.

"What's wrong?"

"I-I've decided to let you see me."

"Oh! That's wonderful."

"No it isn't, Damien. It's dangerous and frightening."

"You have no reason to be afraid. You're my friend. How can I do otherwise than accept you as you are?"

"Fine. Are you ready?"

"Yes! I want to see you. Please show me."

In the dim light of the room, a shadow moved. A scraping rustling sound came from under the bed, and then Gwendolyn rose from the floor. Glittering blue-black scales covered her arms and legs, and piercing bright yellow eyes peered back at Damien. Her hair was thick black dreadlocks, caught up in a golden ring. Four slender scaly arms, two legs, and a tail completed the picture. Her head and chest were dark, the same blue-back as the scales, but it seemed to be skin, not scales. And Gwendolyn was definitely a female. Small, firm breasts surmounted by pale tan nipples adorned her chest, and her sex was a slim, dark, hairless slit between her legs.

Gwendolyn's facial features were strong and angular, giving her a harsh look in the dim half-light of the room. Pointed ears peeked out from the tangle of dreads. She seemed a little shorter than Damien, but not by much. She grimaced, showing white pointed teeth. The teeth of a predator. "Well?"

Damien was shocked. He knew Gwendolyn was female, but never expected her to show up naked. She was his best friend, his confidant, his teacher. But she was a woman, too. The sight of her inflamed his desire like nothing else ever had. He had only seen naked girls online, and had never gotten even as far as second base with any of his girlfriends, so what he was seeing now was as real, or more real, than anything in his experience. "You're beautiful." he said.

Gwendolyn frowned and crossed one set of arms over her breasts and covered her crotch with her other hands. The look of disappointment on Damien's face made her frown soften and pull into a faint smile. "I'm not beautiful. I'm a monster."

"Being a monster doesn't make you any less beautiful."

She sat on the bed next to him, and her presence filled his senses. She tried to engage him with their usual talk, but she could feel his emotions swirling around in him, and he had difficulty focusing. Eventually he calmed down enough that they were able to converse normally.

Damien was fascinated by her physical form, and could have just spent their time together staring at her. Yes, she was monstrous, by definition, but she was also, at least to him, stunningly beautiful. When she finally told him to lie down he was afraid he'd never see her again, so before she said 'Goodnight Damien' to put him to sleep, he begged her "Can we do this again? Please? I want to see you again, see you like this, for real."

Gwendolyn frowned, but nodded, saying "Of course. Tomorrow night. Goodnight Damien."

Each night now she manifested herself and they sat together to talk. She could feel how powerful his emotions were, how absolute and focused his attachment to her was. It gave her the strength to maintain her form in this plane of existence, which she would otherwise not be able to accomplish.

There came a night when Damien could no longer resist asking the question uppermost in his mind. "Can uh, can I touch you?"

A shiver ran through her, and she straightened up to look at him. She nodded. Slowly, he reached out, and she watched him, eyes flicking from his face to his hand and back. She wondered where he would touch her first. She could feel his desire as a palpable energy field. Damien raised himself to his knees on the bed and his hand cupped her cheek, right where the scales ended and the dark dark skin began.

"You're so warm. And soft." Even the scales felt soft under his fingertips, not harsh or rough, but smooth and delicate. The contact with his hand was electrifying. Gwendolyn felt his touch as more than physical, and it made her gasp. Damien caught sight of her needle-sharp teeth and scarlet tongue. His hand moved down to her neck, then her shoulder, feeling the layer of scales over her flesh. They felt so warm and sleek, which was at odds with what his eyes told him.

When is hand ran back up her arm she shivered visibly. Now his eyes were drawn to her breasts again, such dark skin with the light areolas and nipples centered in them. They were the stuff of his dreams now, and visions of her filled his days, distracting him all the time.

"Can I touch you, there?" he asked.

"Yes." she whispered back.

Now he was exploring unknown territory. Despite her monstrous aspect, Damien knew she was his friend, and wasn't afraid of her at all. All his mind told him was that this was a female, and he wanted to touch her, investigate her, learn about her. All about her. He slowly drew his hand down her chest to cup a breast. It was a firm, soft weight in his hand, and felt marvelous. He played with the nipple, and teased the little goosebumps on her areola.

Gwendolyn let out a low, soft growl, almost a purr, and shifted closer to him. Now both hands were filled with her tits, playing and teasing the golden brown nipples there. She reached out her own hands to touch him now. Two on his face, and two on his shoulders. Her touch was soft and delicate, the palms of her hands also scale-less.

"Oh, Damien." she said softly. Then he raised his eyes to stare into hers. The sight and feel of her sent his desire spiraling out of control. He leaned in to kiss her, and she purred in response. This was better than any kiss Damien had ever received before. When his tongue probed her mouth, she accepted the intrusion and he tasted her. Spicy, warm, and very very different from his girlfriends.

Their arms went around each other and their kiss deepened. Damien kept one hand on her breast and the other slid lower, seeking her sex down below. He assumed she was built like a human woman, and cupped her sex with his fingers. The heat down there was astonishing, and the wetness was apparent moments later. When he probed her labia with a fingertip, sliding it up and down the slick set of wet lips, she purred into their kiss and pressed harder against him.

Her pussy felt like what he'd seen on porn videos, so he pushed deeper, and was rewarded by those labia parting and allowing his finger to slip easily inside her opening. Gwendolyn's head rolled back and she gasped and clung to him as she came. Her four arms clutched at him, talons sinking into his back and arms. That was something he hadn't seen before - her claws. The sudden pain of those many pinpricks made him wince, and she let him go almost immediately.

"Oh! I've hurt you." Tears formed in her brilliant yellow eyes as she let him go. Damien was not exactly oblivious to the pain of the numerous little wounds, but he was far more preoccupied with the fact that he believed he just caused Gwendolyn to have an orgasm. And his hand was soaked. He lifted it to his face and sniffed at her scent on his fingers. This was like nothing he'd ever encountered, and the urge to taste her was overwhelming. She watched in surprise as he sucked her juices off his fingers.

Gwendolyn ran her fingers delicately over his shoulders where some little red spots were now apparent on his night shirt. "You need to get cleaned up."