Monsters

A child’s fears are easy to dismiss

“Dad!”

The house had been quiet, the kind of silence that settles in only after long hours and longer routines. Soft blue light filtered through the hallway as James opened the door to his son’s room. His footsteps barely stirred the carpet.

“Dad!”

The word cut through the calm. James didn’t sigh, not quite, but his breath slowed before he answered.

“What’s wrong, Hunter?”

The room was cool, shadows long and soft around the corners.

“The closet, Dad.” Hunter’s voice was thin and trembling. “Something’s in the closet.”

James rubbed his eyes, fingertips pressing at the corners like it might erase the weariness.

“We’ve talked about this, buddy. There’s nothing in the closet.”

Hunter shook his head, sharp and fast. His blanket bunched tight in his fists.

“It was there. I saw it.”

James walked to the closet and pulled the door open wide. Faint light fell on hanging shirts, a loose toy car near the bottom, the gentle sway of stillness pretending it had never been broken. He stepped inside, arms raised.

“See? Empty.”

Hunter didn’t answer right away. His eyes locked onto the darkness behind his father, breath shallow.

“But it was looking at me.”

James crouched beside the bed. The light caught in the wrinkles around his eyes.

“Hunter, I know it feels real. When I was your age, I thought I saw things too. Shadows shift when you’re tired. Your mind tries to make sense of the dark. That’s why the monsters disappear as soon as you turn on the light.”

Hunter’s voice came smaller this time.

“But I wasn’t that tired. It was tall, and its eyes—”

James reached out, brushing his son’s hair gently.

“Probably just your toys catching the streetlight. Or how the window makes the shadows stretch. I promise, nothing’s going to get you while I’m here. And even when I’m not, monsters aren’t real.”

The boy gave a slow nod. The blanket didn’t loosen in his hands.

James tucked him in and stood, pausing with his hand on the light switch.

“Get some sleep, buddy.”

He closed the door with a soft click and walked back down the hall.

The couch was still warm when he settled into it.

“You were right,” he said, not looking away from the dim screen in the corner.

“Of course I was,” Linda answered. She didn’t look up from her tablet. “What specifically?”

James sighed. “Monsters™ was a bad decision.”

There was a smile in Linda’s voice now.

“I warned you. But no, you thought it’d be a bonding experience.”

“Three times in one week. That’s too much.” James shook his head. “We’ll take him in tomorrow. I’ll have Monsters removed and roll him back to last week.”

Linda set the tablet down slowly.

“Another mind wipe? That’d be the seventh since we got him.”

James stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering.

“You’re right. Seven’s too many.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll drop him at the scrappers.”

Linda nodded without hesitation.

“Good idea. And we can head to ReHome™ this weekend. Maybe they’ll have something a little more exotic this time.”

James frowned, barely.

“No more Xenos. They’re too expensive, and when they get sick, it’s a nightmare. Don’t forget Parker.”

“Okay,” Linda said lightly. “We’ll get another human.”

James leaned over and kissed her forehead before standing.

“I’ll handle it in the morning.”

* * *

The next day began like any other.

Sunlight filtered across the kitchen floor in soft rectangles. The quiet clink of silverware. Cereal turning soggy in a bowl.

“Eat up, buddy. We don’t want to be late,” James said.

Hunter nodded, rubbing his eyes.

“Are we stopping for ice cream after school?”

James gave him a tired smile.

“We’ll see, champ.”

Backpack slung over his shoulder, Hunter climbed into the car, fastened his seatbelt, and pulled out his omnipad. The game flickered to life with cheerful tones as the car pulled away from the curb.

The road wound through empty industrial streets, past fences and cooling towers, to a narrow side entrance flanked by metal doors. A man in a dull gray uniform stepped out, clipboard in hand.

James rolled the window down. They exchanged a few quiet words. A nod.

The locks clicked.

“Alright, out you go.”

Hunter blinked.

“Huh?”

The worker opened the passenger door. His hand held something metallic and thin. The prod hummed, then cracked as it touched the soft skin of Hunter’s neck. The boy convulsed briefly before slumping unconscious.

Without ceremony, the worker unbuckled the boy’s seatbelt and pulled him out. Hunter’s limp body hit the pavement with a dull thud, a trickle of blood forming at the corner of his nose and mouth. The worker grabbed him by the back of his jumper and hauled him toward the facility without a word.

James didn’t look back. The car pulled forward and was gone before the door slid closed.

* * *

Saturday came with bright skies and open windows.

The room was empty now. Just clean walls and folded linens.

Linda stood at the mirror, adjusting her jacket with a hum on her lips.

“You ready?”

James grabbed his keys from the counter.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Outside, the wind stirred leaves across the pavement.

Linda glanced at him, smiling.

“Ya know, I think I want a girl this time. It’s been a while since we had a little girl.”

James gave a quiet nod.

“Alright. We’ll see what they have.”

The sun was warm as the car pulled away, bright and easy, heading toward ReHome™.

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