The first night Sam heard it, it was faint, barley even noticeable. Then it happened again, louder, more persistent. Sam's ears perked up. He went to pull the covers back in attempts to investigate the sound coming from his bedroom window. However, his body grounded him in place. He couldn't move. He felt a cold swear break out across his neck. Fear was gripping him as tightly as he was gripping his dinosaur patterned sheets.
The scratching grew louder now. It turned into a banging sound, the wind howling outside like some kind of feral beast. Or was it? Was it the wind? Was it something else hiding under the black cloak of the night? He shut his eyes tight. "Don't look, " he whispered. "Don't look."
He father, who was a man of yhe mountains, told him once when he was five never to look monsters in the eyes or they would steal your soul.
At the time, Sam thought his father was trying to scare him. Now he wasn't so sure. A now frightened eight year old Sam was starting to think his father really had known of monsters. He swallowed nervously. He was being silly. It's probably just a tree branch l, right? He forced his body to sit up as he threw back the sheets. He started to place his tiny foot on the planet shapped carpet at his feet,but them he hesitated . He quickly pulled his feet up onto the bed and grabbed the small, blue flashlight off his nightstand. He scooted to the edge of the bed cautiously. He leaned down, the flashlight rattling in his small hand. He peeked under the bed. Nothing was there.
His whole body stiffened as he felt something harsh and cool brush against his back. He stifled a shriek, careful not to wake his parents. After all, why would they belive him? He was just a silly eight year old kid who watched Goosebumps before bed. It was all in his head. Wasn't it?
Nevertheless, he perked upright waving his flashlight around wildly. Corners of his room lit up revealing nothing but shadowy images of his possessions. He giggled nervously. His eyes traveled to the window. It had grown quiet. Too quiet. The air felt stiff. It was the kind of quiet one would expect at a funeral. It was unsettling. He felt his body tremble, but he knew if he didn't confirm his suspicions, if he didn't prove to himself how ridiculous he was being, he would never get any sleep. He inched closer to the widow. The shadows danced in the shaking light. He felt his heart racing.
The bedroom door burst open causing a squeal of terror to erupt from Sam.
"SAM!"
His father. He felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him. His father snatched him up and held him tightly to his chest. At first Sam thought it was his own body shaking only to realize it was his father who was trembling. "D...dad..."
"Shhhhh," his father hissed. The scratching started again. This time the noise that followed made Sam's blood run cold. It wasn't a howl, but a shreik. It sounded like an animal being tortured. Inhuman.
"Don't look out the window," Sam's dad whispered hoarsely.
"Daddy....w...what is it?" Sam felt tears sliding down his face. He had never felt thos afraid before.
"We don't mention theor name....hush...it's listening for you...."
Sam felt his stomach flip. He clutched to his dad tightly. The window began to rattle. Sam pressed his face into his dad's shoulder, muffling the sobs that were flooding out of him. What is that thing?! What does it want?
"Your soul," his father whispered as if reading his mind. "Your body, your skin."
Sam shook as the window rattled and shook, the shrieking growing more intense.
This went on for about five more minutes before silence unfolded them. His father sighed , bis grip on his son relaxing. He placed his son on his feet, brushing the sweaty tuft of brown hair back out of his eyes. He looked up at his father terrified and confused. "Dad....what was..."
"Nothing," his dad replied softly. "It was nothing. Go back to bed now. And Sam, stay away from the window. Don't look. Don't get up. No matter what you hear, it's only just the wind."
Sam nodded slowly. He could hear the fear in his father's voice. His father was never afraid. Not like this.
His father tucked him back into bed. "Sleep. It's nothing."
Sam yawned, the fear in him subsiding. He felt his eyes grow heavy. His dad hugged him tightly before he existed the room. An hour passed before it started again jolting him out of his sleep. "Don't look....don't look." He shut his eyes tightly. "It's nothing.....it's nothing."
He knew tho, deep down, even as the sun began to rise the next day giving the illusion of normality, he knew it wasn't not nothing. He was just glad he didn't look.