The Thing That Sat on the Bed | After Midnight

He wanted it to be one moment he could explain away.

Too little sleep. Too much noise. A mind still wired for danger after years in the infantry. If he could label it exhaustion or stress, it wouldn’t follow him. But something sat on the bed.

Not a shadow. Not black. A dark, unnatural green. Lanky. Reaching. Real enough that both of them saw it—and ran. That should have been the end.

Instead, sleep became dangerous. Old memories resurfaced. A childhood hospital vision. A violent dream overseas that felt less like fear...