Instalment Thirty Two

Don’t look under the bed, the child shivered. Never look under the bed.
Why? I asked, it’s only a bed.
Under there, the child stammered, that’s were they live.
Who lives?
The Dust Bunnies!
I bent down to look, chuckling, dust bunnies!
Don’t move anything, he said, it disturbs them.
Funny kid, just doesn’t want to clean his room so invented this story.
But still, those scratches on his arms…
Under the bed was the mess I expected, shoes, boxes, clothes and comics, all covered in a film of dust.
Don’t disturb them, he whispered.
I puffed my cheeks and blew, sending a cloud of dust into the darkness.
There’s nothing under here but mess, I said.

Then it happened.

Movement.

From of the corner of my eye I caught it.

They’re here, squeeked the child

Darting back by the bedhead.

One, two, three, ten!

Multiplying, breeding like… rabbits?

They surged, not so much fur but matted hair and grime, clawing, biting.

I fell, covered in dust bunnies. Flailing, my hand grasped the vacuum I had present the boy earlier that day. I switched it on.

Vanquished.

That’s why we keep our room clean, I said daubing blood from my forehead.