A little piece I wrote about the Boogeyman, I admit, it's a bit graphic, but not too much.

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Don't Take It Personally

I smiled at the child, the little boy shivered, hiding beneath his sheets, as if that could save him. I scoff at how dumb he was, they all seem to think if they hide in these redicilously obvious hiding places I won't find them, do they think I'm blind? If I'm hungry, and you happen to be on my list, you're fair game. If your a scared little brat that's on my list, you may as well be my pet. Either way, pet or not, you eventually end up in my stomache. They always seem to cry, look so lost as they walk through the world I take them to. It's no matter, where they go, it's hard to get lost, after all, how do you get lost in someone elses stomache? I lick my lips, tasting the blood of my last meal, a little girl, how sweet they are. I creek open his closet door so slightly, and smile. "Jamie." I call out his name, using his mother's voice "Jamie, can you come here sweetie?"

I smirk as he lifts the sheets off his head, and gets off the bed, the 4 year old's so naive, stupid little thing. He walks towards the closest, lip quivering, I l can taste his fear, so delicious. "Mommy, what are you doing in the closet?" he calls out, I shake my head.

"Because I'm not your mommy you little snot." I reply as soon as he's at the door, before he can scream, I take him by the hair, and pull him inside the closet, it shuts quietly "Come on now Jamie, it's only fair..." I say, dragging him by his hair, through the wall of the closet, into the dark void, it's good to be home, at his plea for mercy, I chuckle "Now Jamie, if I did that, it wouldn't be fair to the others now would it? Be a man you little brat. You knew it was coming."

From my robe, I take a rather decrepid looking dagger, clutching my talons around it. To cut his tounge out with my claws is no fun at al, I pull him upwards, and cut it out blood pouring from him, I press a thumb and it stops. I savor in the taste of his tounge as I drop it into my mouth, no longer can he scream, I'm thankful for that, their whining annoys me. I step into my den, and through to my kitchen, my current pet, a 10 year old boy greets me by whimpering. That's right, I cut his tounge out too, what good would it do if he could cry for help, if he could expose me. I take my current meal, and bend his neck back, and lick the whimpering boy on his cheek, oh his soft skin tastes good. "Don't take it personally." I whisper, as I can hear his neck starting to snap "Everything has to eat."

His neck snaps, the crimzon blood flowing so brilliantly from it, I lick my lips a second time. Throwing him into an oven, I sit down at a chair, and let him cook, once he's done, I simply snap one arm off. And as I take a bite into his soft flesh, I smile loving the taste of his bones. And then I turn to you, my little my friend, my pet, my blood stained lips smiling at you. "Don't worry." I assure you "You're next."