Tommy huddled in his covers, shaking, but refusing to cry. The moonlight cast dark and darker dappled shadows across his room and unto the floor. Every sound was crisper at night and he listened as they skittered across his bedroom floor. They had became braver and Tommy's fear sat in his stomach, sharp, owning him, body and soul. Tommy risked his dwindling reserve of courage and glanced at the floor, his hand clutching his only weapon, his dad's stolen flashlight. He found them patiently crouched on the floor, waiting for sleep to drag him under. It wouldn't be long.