It Swims Beneath

Jerry’s eyes popped open to a dark bedroom. Rolling over, red numbers hovered in the distance, reading 2:24 AM. He had been waking up around the same time the past few nights. With a heavy sigh, Jerry readjusted the covers, and tried to go back to sleep. This night, just before drifting back into slumber, he heard a knock. It was followed by a rapid succession of two, three, no four knocks.

Sitting up in bed, he glanced around. It hadn’t really been a knock, like someone at the door. It was more of a plastic kind of sound. Shaking his head, he again tried to fall back to sleep.

As he was getting ready for work, he lifted the toilet lid, and took a step back. On the underside of the lid were a series of faint scratches. Leaning forward, the still waters of the commode directly below him, he ran his fingers over the gashes. They were deeper than they looked. The chime of an impending video call interrupted his inspection. He would deal with this later, he thought, completed his business, flushed, and started his day.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

2:38 AM

Now angry, Jerry launched from the bed. Flicking on the bathroom light he saw three thick tentacles swiping at the walls. They terminated at the toilet, now shattered. From the watery mess a single dark eye stared at him. Whipping through the air, the tentacles dragged him forward as a sharp beak opened wide.