WARNING- THIS STORY MAY BE DISTURBING TO SOME READERS. It made me shiver while I was writing it.

Scroll down to read it. \/

It was a Tuesday when it happened. The 8th of October, 1895.

I was on my way to the cellar. I knew about the monsters. I knew of the creatures which lurked in my closets and under my bed. I knew of the creatures that met in the cellar every evening. I knew their boney fingers and razor sharp claws scavenged for scraps beneath my dining table whilst I slept.

The thing that will surprise you the most- and even I was surprised by this -I was friends with them. Every evening I would meet with them beneath the ancient floors of my house. I would put plates of food out before I went to bed. They never lay a finger on me.

That was until that one Tuesday night.

I was on my way to the cellar for our nightly meeting. I began to descend the wooden spiral stairs, each step creaking beneath my slippers. My nightgown swayed against my legs and I smiled at the familiar feeling of it's comfortable fabric.

Then, suddenly, bony hands gripped my shoulders. I held my breath, every ounce of confidence seeping out of me like water from a bucket.

I felt the hands push me forward, towards the edge of the stairs.

I tried to fight, but I couldn't move. My entire body was frozen with fear.

Then... I fell. I fell down from the safety of the stairs and landed hard on the concrete floor below.

My head cracked on the tarmac, throwing the life from my body.

My last sight was one of my 'so called friends' celebration as they watched me take my final breath.