Wintry winds smashed against the little wooden cabin, hurling heavy spruce pine cones and stinging pine needles; still, the little cabin stood strong. Lily listened to the roaring wind from inside. She played with a worn fabric doll, making it dance across the floor. She lay on her stomach next to the cozy fire, knees bent so that her feet waved lazily in the air above her. Lily put the doll down and rolled onto her back. She patted her protruding belly in a satisfied manner.

“Dinner was good, Mama,” she called. Her mother murmured something unintelligible, clearly lost in washing the dishes. Lily lay on her back and closed her eyes, drifting in the warm bliss of a full stomach. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Lily listened carefully to the wind. It had died down to the occasional moan. Now that it wasn’t so loud, Lily thought she could hear their laughter…

Lily’s heart started beating faster. She slowly moved to one of the windows, dreading what she might see outside. Sure enough, the sun was setting, orange and yellow light flashing between the trees. Lily’s stomach wrenched in on itself and suddenly she was hot and sticky with sweat. She turned and ran to her mother. Lily hugged one of her mother’s legs, her head only coming up to her mother’s hips. Lily’s mother sighed.

“What is it, dear?” she asked, not looking down as she scraped grease from chipped plates.
Lily’s face was ghostly white. Her green eyes were wild and paranoid. She looked up at her mother and whispered, “Be quiet, they’ll hear you.”
“Oh, not this again,” Lily’s mother sighed. She patted her daughter’s head and went back to doing the dishes. “There’s no one else out there, Lily. We’re the only ones who live in this forest.”
Lily whimpered. The laughter was getting louder, closer. She dared not speak, lest they hear her words. Lily wracked her brain. How could she make her mother understand? Lily dashed to a woven basket sitting near the fireplace. She dug around in it until she found the crayons and paper. Materials like these were precious. Lily’s mother only left the woods to trade for goods every few months. But the immediate danger was greater than the cost and rarity of paper and crayons.
Lily carefully lifted a piece of paper from the basket, making sure not to tear it. As clean as Lily and her mother tried to keep such valuable goods, the paper was stained with dirt in several places. Lily reached for the box of crayons. The edges of the box were frayed and the crayons were stubby but it would have to do. Lily began to draw on the paper. Her young hands were clumsy and the crayons often slipped or broke as she hurriedly tried to draw those she saw and heard at night. When she finished, she ran to her mother and pressed the paper against her side, trying to get her attention.
Lily’s mother looked down surprised. It had been a while since Lily had drawn anything. A month ago, Lily had left her “crayon” phase and moved onto playing house with her doll instead.
“Not now, Lily,” her mother said. “I still haven’t smoked the rabbits. I have a lot of work to do.” Lily began to cry. It was a silent crying, with desperate tears and a firmly clamped mouth. She hit her mother with the paper and pulled at her clothes, demanding attention. Lily’s mothered sighed again, exasperated. She took the drawing from her daughter’s hands. The paper had been violently scraped at with the boldest of colors. Bright wax covered almost the entire page. Though vague, Lily’s mother could make out that each color seemed to have a shape. They were creatures of some sort, but of an otherworldly nature…
Lily’s mother gasped and dropped the paper in shock. Her face paled. She looked down at the page, hoping she had only imagined the familiarity of the creatures… She closed her eyes and leaned against the counter, nausea sweeping over her. It couldn’t be them. She had gotten rid of them long ago, even moved to a deserted area to ensure they would not follow. Lily’s mother flashed back to the endless nights of terror, the screams, the torture, the laughter…
Suddenly, she was brought back to the present. Lily was squeezing her leg, looking around and listening with the fear that only comes from being cornered… No. This was reality. Monsters did not exist. Her childhood memories must have been distorted somehow; she must have just had a very active imagination. And now Lily had an active imagination, too. That made sense. There was nothing to be scared of. Lily would grow out of it soon enough. For now, it was Lily’s bedtime.
Lily had not noticed her mother’s sudden panic. Good, Lily’s mother thought. It will be best for her if she thinks I am not afraid and that there is nothing wrong. Lily’s mother took a deep breath to compose herself. She bent down and gently untangled herself from Lily’s arms.
“Lily, that’s a very nice picture you’ve drawn me,” she said, “but it’s time for bed now. Let’s go.” Lily looked up in horror and shock. How could her mother not understand? The picture had been perfectly clear, surely she knew what Lily was so afraid of. This time, Lily could not hold her anguish inside her; she started to scream and cry, pounding small fists against her mother.
“No!” she wailed. “Don’t leave me alone don’t leave me I’m scared -”
“That’s enough drama!” Lily’s mother snapped. “God, you put me through this everyday, Lily. For goodness sake, bedtime will not kill you.” Lily froze at the word kill. Just then, she had heard them again. She had heard their maniacal laughter and now heavy panting too…
Lily’s mother scooped her up and hauled her to her room, Lily screeching and and struggling to get free. Lily could hear them getting louder, closer; she could hear growls and chanting. It drove her wild. Her body jerked spastically but Lily’s mother’s iron grip prevented her from breaking free. Why don’t you hear anything? Lily screamed in her head as she fought against her mother. Why am I the only one who knows they’re real?
When they made it to Lily’s room, her mother dropped Lily onto her bed. Lily scrambled off and raced to the door, but her mother blocked her path.
“Go to sleep, Lily,” her mother insisted sternly. Lily whimpered and sunk to her knees.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered hoarsely. “They’re going to kill me this time.” Lily’s mother rolled her eyes. She turned to leave.
“Goodnight, Lily,” she said and closed the door. Lily couldn’t believe her eyes. This was it. There was no hope for her now.
Click. Lily jumped. She felt herself start to shake. They were here. Click. Click. She could hear them approaching, their long claws clicking against the dusty wooden floor. The clicking seemed to come from all directions at once. There was no more panting or laughing now, no more low growls or words spoken in an strange language. Only heavy silence punctuated by sharp clicks and Lily’s own fast breaths.
A snarl ripped through the air. Lily flinched. Her stomach lurched and she threw up. A low hiss sounded behind her and whirled, trying to lock onto the source of the noise. Unable to do so, she threw herself onto the bed. She burrowed under the covers, although she knew they would offer no protection.
She stayed that way for a while, huddled under the covers as she listened for them. The clicking was getting closer. They couldn’t be more than a few feet away from the bed. Lily shut her eyes tight. One of them groaned. Lily bit her lip to stop her from crying out, even though there was no point in being quiet anymore. A shriek pierced the air. It’s the Red One, Lily thought. No, no, not the Red One, please go away, not the Red One. The clicking stopped. They had reached her bed. Lily could hear their ragged breaths, the saliva dripping from their jaws, and the shifting of their scaled limbs. Lily’s lips had started to bleed from biting them so hard. Her ears were ringing. This was the end.
Suddenly, the blankets were ripped away from the bed. Lily flinched hard and instinctively covered her neck with her hands. They were standing around the bed. Lily counted four. Four today. There was the Blue One, with curled horns and long fur matted with blood, the Yellow One, with sharp scales and one red eye, the Green One, that hissed and spoke, and finally there was the Red One. The Red One was the leader and the biggest. It roared in Lily’s face, hot bloody spittle flying from its dagger teeth. Lily shrunk. Her breaths came out uneven and fast and the world seemed to sway underneath her. They began to laugh, low rumbling laughs that only the insane could make. The Yellow One leaned in close to look at her with its eye, its rank breath spilling onto her face. It growled and bared its teeth. The Red One let out another one of its signature shrieks, telling the Yellow One to back off. It wanted Lily for itself. Everything will be okay, Lily told herself as the Red One’s claws traced unknown patterns on her body. That’s what Mama says when I get hurt. Everything will be okay. Its claws occasionally nicked Lily’s skin and she would start in pain. Everything will be okay. Lily took deep breaths, ignoring the blood dripping onto the bed. The Red One’s claws travelled up to her neck. It pried her fingers off. Everything will be okay everything will be okay everything will be - The cold sharp claws wrapped tightly around Lily’s neck. She couldn’t breathe. Her body started to twist around on its own, trying to wring itself free. Her eyes widened. No no no no it’s not okay it’s not okay no

The next morning, Lily’s mother knocked on Lily’s door to wake her up.
“Come on, Lily, it’s time for breakfast!” she called. No answer. She knocked a few more times, tapping her foot impatiently. “Lily, your food will get cold. Get up.” Lily’s mother paused and then opened the door.
She froze. The sheets had been torn to shreds and were lying on the floor. The bed was stained with blood. Lily was nowhere in sight. Lily’s mother felt her knees weaken. She held onto the door frame for support. No… She must be imagining things. She would close the door, then open it back up again and her little girl would be there, stubbornly refusing to get out of bed as always. Lily’s mother closed the door. Her knuckles were white from gripping the handle so hard. Just as she was about to open the door, she thought she could hear laughter in the distance…