Bogey Problems

A few minutes later, Mark was standing in front of his little sister's door, glaring at it as if he could make it combust into flames. He was a very protective older brother, at least when it concerned his little sister. His other little sister, Kayla, who was older than Rosie, but still had the ability to act bratty was a lost cause. Rosie, however, was the only person in the family he could actually talk to without some snide remark or bitter tone resonating in their voice.

What pissed Mark off, though, was when someone was causing trouble for the little girl. She never did anything mean or terrible on purpose. All she wanted to do was help people with life, and give people more happiness than what resided in their slowly breaking family. She had been born into a cracked family; a family that was slowly starting to shatter as affairs bloomed between father and secretaries, as their mother started to take too much on at work, as both siblings caused as much trouble as they could to get the smallest smidge of attention.

Rosie had been forced to grow up too early in life, and to understand disappointment with indifference. Reality came into her life so soon in her life, it murdered typical childhood fantasies of being a princess some day, or having a pony. Anything that was going to put her through hell, after having a time of make-believe joy being ripped from her childhood, would be beaten to a bloody puddle by Mark.

For the sake of her mentality, Mark had Rosie stay outside in the hall. His cane was held at ready, like a bat, as Zaimix fluttered in a disconcerted way around the closet's doorknob. Mark had no clue how he would beat a bogey into submission, but he was determined to do it. Even if it was a ghost, Mark would find a way to maim it if it caused trouble for Rosie. Swatting the muse away, Mark grabbed the smooth closet knob, and flung the door open.

He was expecting to see one of the many bogeys that he had seen during his blind introduction to the world of magic and myths: black blobs that changed shape, usually a shape that instilled fear into their victim. Mark wasn't ready for a huge creature that hardly fit into Rosie's closet. Half of the creature was a malicious grin of pointy, sharp teeth with green goo dribbling out of the corners of its lips. The eyes were glowing with murderous glee, but didn't seem to have a specific color. At least, not one that Mark could discern from his knowledge of colors.

Instinct screamed at him to run, telling him this was the creature that was made of dark nightmares, too ruthless for an average mind. Every fiber in his body wanted to flee; it wanted to get away from this age-old childhood horror. Yet, Mark's stubborn brain kept the young man rooted to the spot, glaring at the creature who would no doubt snap his bones.

A flicker of predatory amusement whipped through the bogey's eyes, and he lumbered forward, out of the closet. The floorboards creaked under the huge bogey as its full size came into view. Mark backed away, keeping enough space between him, and Rodney. Zaimix, on the other hand, had taken refuge behind a bed post, peeking out to stare at the closet monster in frightful awe.

"You've been causing trouble for my little sister," Growled Mark as his knuckles started to turn white from steely gripping at his cane. The bogey didn't answer, however, it merely grinned, showing off the jagged teeth and slowly oozing goo that was seeping between the cracks of the incisors. Before Mark could even debate on how to strike this huge creature, a bony hand tipped with sharp claws rose out of the blob that was Rodney and struck the young man heavily in the chest.

Mark slammed into the wall opposite of the closet, after plowing through a forest of toys, and fell onto a huge pile of stuffed animals. Pain snaked across the nerves along Mark's back, and he hissed slightly as he staggered to his feet. Vaguely, though, Mark was thankful for one thing: he still had his cane in his hand.

The young man had given the bogey the benefit of the doubt, and was returned the favor by being slammed into a wall. Needless to say, Mark wasn't happy. Without any banter, he stormed across the room, and smashed his cane into the bogey's face. The monster staggered back, shocked and dazed by the blow, but instinctively raised its monstrous hand to strike again. This time, however, Mark was ready, and ducked just as the huge claws were about to shred his face into bits.

Now allowing his more malicious side to drizzle into his actions, Mark jammed his cane into Rodney's left eye. The bogey howled in pain as more green ooze sprayed from the now damaged eye. He started to scratch at the foreign object in his eye, unable to get a hold on the cane for it was slick with the goo. Goosebumps arose on Mark's arms as the scream shook every synapse in the young man's brain. It was a yowl Mark was sure he'd never forget.

Rodney started to thrash his right arm around, attempting to squash the creature that had shoved this cane into his eye. Mark ducked and dodged the fist each time it whizzed by. His heart pounded, and his organs tangled around each other, as Mark's instincts to surviving kicked in. He blindly stumbled his way over to the general vacinity of the bed, and tripped on a toy in the process. On his back, Mark scrambled backwards, pushing toys out of the way as he barely avoided the bogey's fist pounding the boards he had just been on.

Mark felt his back hit something knobby and wooden, and turned to look up at Zaimix, who was still hiding behind the bed post. Grabbing ahold of a post, and hoisting himself up, Mark ducked another flying fist by diving over the mattress of Rosie's bed.

"Zaimix, how the hell do you kill one of these things?" Snapped Mark, mentally ignoring the pain made by his knee coming into unwelcome contact with a plastic toy after he had dived over the bed. Mark looked back over to Rodney, and felt his organs knot more tightly. Green ooze was spewing everywhere, and Rodney was still screaming and scrabbling to get the cane out of his eye. A morbid pride arose in Mark, as he realized how deep he had actually shoved the metal rod.

"Uhm...uhm..." stuttered Zaimix, fluttering a little shakily with eyes glued to the tortured form of Rodney, "B-bl-blankets protect kids, and, uhm, I guess y-y-you could, uhm---"

The door creaked open, hesitantly, which drowned out whatever Zaimix had been saying. Instantly, Mark knew who had just entered, and fear sunk into his stomach. Only one person would open a door in such a meek manner, and that was Rosie. Scrambling over the bed, foot getting caught at two times in the comforter, Mark shouted at her to close the door, to leave. His skin prickled as andreniline pumped through his veins.

He knew he was too late though, as he stumbled over plastic toys and stuffed bears he saw Rodney's arm shoot out towards the door. Just as Mark was about to reach Rosie, and pull her towards him, Rodney's claws wrapped around her and snatched her out of Mark's reach. Rosie attempted to scream, but Rodney's hold on her was leaving her gasping for breath.

Thoughts were obliterated now, with Rosie in danger at the hands of the bogey monster. All that registered in Mark's mind were the tears falling down his little sister's face as she struggled in the steely grip of something she had once deemed as a friend. Mark charged at the bogey after snatching a ruler from Rosie's nearby desk. The blind man grabbed the cane that was still lodged into Rodney's eyes, feeling the slick goo saturate into his skin. As his hands wrapped around the cane, he felt his flesh burn and itch as the green goo bubbled up around his flesh.

The pain was nothing, though, and Mark hoisted himself up onto the creature via the cane. Launching himself from Rodney's head, Mark jumped onto the bogey's arm. A plastic sound echoed through the air as Mark snapped the ruler in half, and drove a jagged piece into the creature's wrist.

Rodney belted out yet another wretched scream, and hurled Rosie across the room. Mark turned to glare at the creature as Rodney moved its arm to snap up the blind young man. Having had it with this creature, though, Mark shoved the other half of the ruler up into Rodney's mouth.

The creature's maw snapped shut, jamming the ruler up through the roof of its mouth. Simultaneously, both human and bogey screamed, and Mark fell off of the creature, onto some very pointy toys. Pain erupted throughout his body, but he stubbornly got to his feet. Mark was sure his right arm, now useless and gushing blood, was possibly fractured. Rodney hadn't fared much better, since the would the ruler created was gushing with the green bogey blood.

Mark's body throbbed, itched, and burned wherever the green goo had touched his skin. He felt little welts on his hands rise to the occasion as well. Shuffling away from Rodney, Mark watched the bogey claw at its throat, unable to breath as the green blood filled its mouth. The bogey's claws were leaving gashes along its own throat and lips, allowing more blood to spew from the creature's arteries onto the floor.

The young man stumbled over to the spot he had seen his little sister thrown, and soon heard her silent sobs. He could just picture her, curled up in the mass of stuffed animals he had been thrown into earlier, as the sobs wracked her body. As he fell to his knees in front of Rosie, he felt her latch onto his shirt. Mark closed his eyes, knowing full well that the bogey wasn't going to attempt any further harm to either of them. Rodney was much too preoccupied with fighting against Death.

Mark lowered his head to Rosie's head, and sighed, murmuring something to Rosie about not touching the green goo that was leaving red welts on his flesh. He heard her slightly muffled answer as she tried to burrow deeper into his shirt. In the background, Mark listened to the bogey, whose screams were now fading into gurgling groans, but the thrashing of its hands knocking things off the desk and crushing toys was still as brazen as ever. The sound of glass as it shattered into bits made Mark assume that the bogey was also hurling objects as he struggled.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, though, as a chill set into the room. Zaimix squawked, and Mark felt the muse land on his head, using his hair as a place to hide from another arrival. Raising a hand to the back of Rosie's head, not wishing her to view a reaping, Mark pulled her closer. Rodney's thrashing increased to the point of frantic panic. A quick decisive slashing sound, however, drowned out the, and ultimately silenced, the bogey.

As Rodney fell to the floor, causing the whole room to shake and quiver, Mark pulled Rosie closer. The sound of something being drawn from flesh with a sickening squelch echoed around the quiet room. Mark cracked his eyes open moments later to see a bony hand proffering a dented, and gooey cane to the young man.

"Good job, as usual, Mark." stated a crisp voice that brought to mind century old paper, and a time where humans were merely a myth.

Not taking his eyes off of the skeletal digits, Mark reached up and took his cane gingerly from the hand. His hand pulled Rosie closer, hoping she wasn't listening or trying to peak at the cloaked man stooping over them. Still avoiding eye contact, Mark nodded, and closed his eyes again, "Likewise, sir. Punctual as ever, I see."

A chuckle fell into the room for a few minutes, until silence took its place again. Mark remained hunched over his little sister, getting control over his adrenaline filled body. When Rosie started to fidget, Mark pulled away, and opened his eyes. Mark stared into the darkness right in front of him, into the face he knew was staring up at him with tear-stained cheeks.

The room was a mess, Mark knew that as he replayed the fight in his head. He had become used to fighting in the darkness, but was amazed at how well he could maneuver around his little sister's room. It must look like a catastrophe, though, with broken toys scattered about the floor, the broken window, and green goo oozing all over the place. One couldn't forget the blood, either, from his fractured arm.

As the thought popped into his brain, the arm started to flare in pain. Mark felt all his joints ache and groan with exhaustion, and pain. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so active before noon. Mark staggered to his feet, feeling his knees going numb, just as his ears caught the sound of pounding feet.

Two pairs of feet trampled into the room, and two sets of scream stabbed at Mark's ears. He turned around, slowly, with his battered cane in hand, and stared at the doorway. He knew his mother and Kayla were standing there, mouths agape at sight of the room. A vague gasp resounded from one of the two females, and Mark assumed that they finally glazed over the wound on his arm.

"What happened here!" screamed, more than questioned, his mother. He felt a pair of firm hands grab his arm, and yank it upwards as nimble fingers pulled away the shredded cloth that had made up his sleeve. He hissed and winced as her nails came too close to the wounded skin.

He heard Kayla's feet pound against the floor as she ran over to Rosie, kneeling down to go over the younger girl. Mark already had an answer ready for his mother, although it was farfetched. It would suffice for now, since odd things happened around them more than anyone else. Without much conviction, Mark answered his mother's command, "A raccoon, rabid one I think. Was in Rosie's closet, and covered with green goo. Smelled like your avocado drink, mom."

Indeed, the green bogey blood did look like the power drink his mother always had. Although, it didn't stink quite as bad as the green sludge that was caking the blender, but Mark figured it would do as an excuse. He could feel the air around his mother crackle with suspicion, but she couldn't counter Mark. She knew, more than anyone, that Mark wouldn't budge from an answer once he had given it.

"Although I doubt a raccoon could do that to your arm, Mark." stated his mother, a little icily, "I'll take you to the doctor later today. If that thing had rabies, you'll need those shots."

Mark nodded, blankly, although he could feel his stomach knot up at the thought of needles. Yet, sleep was calling most seductively, and his body was calling back with mighty desire. Staggering from Rosie's bedroom, ignoring the protests of his mother that he needed to wash and disinfect his arm, Mark attempted to make his way to his room. A thought struck him, though, and he half turned to yell down the hallway, "Oh, and mother! I need another cane!"

As he turned around, and reached for the doorknob of his room, he heard his mother incredulously yell back, "Again?!"