 The woman who answered the door when I knocked had tears in her eyes. She clutched her housecoat tighter around herself and took me in Looking me up and down Mrs. Burton. I'm agent Barnes. May I come in, please? She regarded me through the glass staring coldly at my face They said you'd be coming. You're from the FBI some sort of special unit. That's right, ma'am I said pulling out my ID badge and showing it to her After examining it for a while. She turned the handle Pausing to take a quick hopeful look around the neighborhood before finally holding the creaking screen door open for me I stepped up the wooden staircase and entered the house The home was well kept Old but comfortable furnishings walls covered in framed photos showing barbecues and family gatherings Weddings and birthday parties. It looked like a peaceful place Not an abusive household or a neglected one. I thought to myself I took out my notepad and scribbled something eligible I'm here to follow up on the case involving your son Brian Do you mind if we sit down to talk for a few minutes? She showed me into the living room and I took a seat on the couch Can I get you anything agent? Barnes and no, no, I'm fine. Thank you though Instead of sitting down opposite to me. She chose to remain standing making me feel oddly nervous I tried to ignore that sensation, but it did throw me off slightly Most people sit down when you do especially when they're trying to host What can I do for you exactly? Well, I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your son's disappearance I understand he went missing from his bedroom late one night and there was no sign of forced entry The doors were still locked in the morning when you woke up. Is that right? She nodded slowly and All this despite the fact that he didn't have a key and none were missing from the home She stood with her arms crossed not saying anything Was there a question in there somewhere agent Barnes? I Waited for a beat. This wasn't how I'd expected it to go Already, I felt like my entire preconception of this case was wrong my theories were immediately forgotten and I began to examine the whole situation with fresh eyes as I sat there Looking into the woman's Unreadable face. I Suppose my question is How did he go missing? It seems impossible Unless there's something you aren't telling us a door left open or a window a neighbor with a copy of your key Something you have to try to remember You're singing the same old song that the detective was singing Nobody else had a key. None of the windows or doors were unlocked. I'm sure about that And you're sure he didn't sneak out after dinner to play with friends No one would blame you if that were the case kids that age like to go out in the forest run around to get into trouble Are you sure he was in the room that night when you went to bed? I'm sure I tucked him in myself. I'm not a drunk or a druggy agent Barnes I'm not a neglectful mother either. I didn't forget seeing my son in bed that night Just like I didn't forget to lock up This was going nowhere. I could already tell we were off to a bad start And I had a feeling she could sense my newfound hesitancy and uncertainty I put my note pad away and thought for a few seconds. What direction to take I had to improvise Can you show me his room? I'd like to see it if I could Her face showed no change of expression at the request. She just held her hand out Inviting me towards the back of the house. I followed her as she led me down a hallway with creaking wooden floorboards Do you have children agent Barnes? Yes a son How old is he if you don't mind me asking? 11 actually same as your Brian good now Imagine for a second what it would feel like to have him taken away from you in the night Despite doing everything possible to stop something like that from ever happening. I Hate to think of it. That's every parent's worst nightmare. I replied Here's his bedroom. She said opening a door at the end of the hall on the left It's just as he left it. I didn't change a thing The room was painted a pale blue shade and there was a small bed in one corner a Desk with a computer sitting atop it a gaming console and a small television on the far end With a beanbag chair in front of it. There were no signs of violence or disarray Nothing looked out of place or broken a few items of clothing and toys were scattered here and there But overall it looked cleaner than my own son's room Was anything missing any of his belongings? clothes toothbrush phone Brian doesn't have a phone. He kept begging me for one, but I told him he wasn't old enough She broke off suddenly grimacing sadly If I just let him have a damn cell phone, maybe they could have traced it I put a comforting hand on her shoulder and she let me do that at least without pulling away Even if you had he wouldn't have had it on him while he was sleeping. You can't blame yourself for that I told her feeling suddenly more on her side And just so you know my son doesn't have a cell phone either. I told him the same thing The woman bit her lip hugging herself tighter She turned her eyes up to the ceiling trying to dry the tears within them as if she couldn't bear the thought of weeping one minute longer Do you think Brian could have made a copy of your key? Maybe without your knowledge that just maybe he could have snuck out in the night and locked up afterwards She shook her head rapidly. He's 11 and no I told the officers. He isn't like that. He's a good boy. I Looked over to see the closet in the corner of the room was now hanging open ever so slightly But I distinctly remembered it being closed when I came into the room Inside it looked pitch black For some reason I was drawn towards that darkness and began to walk across the room towards the closet door What was I looking for within that darkness? I wasn't sure But it seemed important that I check inside Brian told me something the night before he disappeared He said there was a monster in his closet I stopped dead in my tracks Most children of 11 years old have grown out of seeing monsters in the shadows Haven't they at least my son had He'd grown out of that phase for a long time She said as if reading my thoughts But then all of a sudden that night he told me there was a monster hiding in his closet and he He what? He actually wet the bed. He hadn't done that for a long time I see and so he came out here and told you all that and then what happened I went back to his room with him right away and I turned the light on and opened his closet To show him that there was nothing inside just his clothes and a few old shoes But he still wasn't convinced He said the monster was a very good hider that he pretended to be shadows Glancing back at the open closet door again. I started moving towards it once more This time with my legs feeling a little wobbly He washed up and I changed his sheets and he went back to bed Brian wanted to stay up with me and watch TV after that. He didn't want to go back to his room But I made him go What time was this around? Two o'clock in the morning Around then he had to get up for school the next day. She said Opening the closet door I peered inside The darkness permeated the whole space like a thick oily cloud of smoke It was almost as if that darkness were a living thing Camouflaging itself there Pretending to be just a closet just like the missing boy had claimed I shook my head trying to clear these thoughts from my mind, but they persisted Can you turn the light on any brighter than that? No, it's all the way up The stupid light bulb seems to get dimmer every day even after I replaced it I'll have to get an electrician over here one of these days Pulling out my flashlight. I shone it into the dark space The oily blackness retreated almost reluctantly as if in a delayed reaction that shouldn't have been possible I blinked my eyes twice trying to decide if I was seeing things My heart was suddenly hammering and the palms of my hands were sweaty As I stared at the darkened space in the dim beam of my flashlight It seemed to be malfunctioning Weak compared to its usual strength I smacked it a few times and tried to remember when I'd last replaced the batteries Can you feel it too? She asked from behind me I wanted to turn around and look at her but was afraid to leave my back exposed to that darkness I know it's crazy, but ever since that night I can't help but feel Like maybe he was right Can you feel it? Something staring at you She let out a nervous titter which broke me out of my stunned silence No, ma'am I lied Just looks like a regular bedroom closet to me You feel like there's something in there looking at you Not just me At us It's watching both of us right now And it's seen your face agent Barnes I don't think that's a good thing How come you don't want to turn your back on it agent Barnes You do feel it I know you do Close the door so it can't stare at us anymore I don't like that feeling I pushed it with a shaky hand and felt the satisfying click of it closing Suddenly I could breathe again We both left the room in a hurry and I excused myself momentarily into the bathroom I looked at my reflection in the mirror and I didn't recognize my own face staring back There were bags beneath my eyes that hadn't been there before And my skin looked slightly yellow gray Salo and jaundiced I felt sick to my stomach Before I could do anything the nausea overcame me Getting down on my knees I retched into the toilet bowl Pure black bile like molasses poured out of me Sticky and tenacious like tar It burned like acid as it came up from my stomach Coating my tongue afterwards and tasting oily and terrible I rinsed out my mouth and flushed the toilet again and again To no avail I stumbled out of the bathroom drunk feeling indizzy But still wanting to finish my interview I needed to at least try She was waiting for me in the kitchen standing by the sink I stumbled into the room and I felt it spinning all around me Clutching my head with both hands I tried to force myself to see straight Just a couple more questions I said covering my mouth So she didn't see the black bile coating my tongue My heart was pounding far too quickly And I tried to ignore the fact that something was potentially very wrong with me Still completely in denial at this point You don't look well, Agent Barnes You look gray in the face Are you all right? Fine, fine, I'm fine Now can you tell me about Brian's father? I understand he passed away several years ago Did he have any family? Close friends She shook her head at me as if none of these questions mattered And she was right in a way They didn't The interview didn't lead anywhere and I couldn't focus on anything she said Soon I was back out on the street The memory of the end of it gone entirely from my mind It was like I'd been on autopilot without realizing it And I didn't like that feeling As if someone else had been driving the car And I'd been asleep behind the wheel I had a very strong suspicion that whatever had happened to Brian Would not be a solvable crime And if it was solved Those findings would not be suitable for an official report This had redacted written all over it Assuming it ever made it up the chain of command If I told my superiors what I'd just experienced They wouldn't believe a word of it The case had gone cold months before So it wasn't expected for me to solve it Only to try to lend a hand if I could Most of my cases ended up remaining unsolved So it wouldn't require much explanation If I wasn't able to do anything useful And I really didn't feel like I would be able to do something useful I had terrible brain fog for the rest of the trip Getting contemptuous looks from the local police detectives Whenever I suggested anything I thought might be useful Everything had been tried before by the sounds of it And I began to feel as if I'd overstayed my welcome The flight back home was a red-eye And I tried to sleep through it But found my dreams were plagued by nightmares I kept dreaming I was a kid again Back in my childhood bedroom Not only that But my closet door kept squealing open in the night Creaking loudly The wood swinging back and forth As if blown by an impossible wind I stood up on my child's legs to go over to it But found myself frozen with fear Staring at the blackness within the closet That deep penetrating darkness Which seemed to spread like flooding Overflowing water towards me And then as I reached out my trembling hand For the door handle to close it Something else reached out and grabbed my wrist An ice cold gnarled hand rotten and macerated The flesh was pale and bluish purple Modeled and covered in wounds Seeping and oozing with blood and pus As I tried desperately to pull away Fighting it with all my strength It pulled me deeper into the darkness I fell in plunging into the depths of it Suffocating in the dark abyss When I woke up I was screaming and the airplane had just begun to descend The flight attendants gave me a look Which told me my terror was not appreciated By the time I got home that night It was already dark and well past Greg's bedtime My wife was in bed So I poured myself a drink and sat down on the couch To watch TV for a little while Hoping to distract myself from the things I had seen And from the dreams I couldn't unsee I wanted so badly to forget that dream But it was the only thing I could visualize when I closed my eyes That rotten corpse hand grabbing hold of my wrist and squeezing I felt as if I could feel that pain even after I'd awoken That feeling of something tightening around my forearm Like a freezing vice I looked down at my arm To see a handprint there Slightly purple like an old bruise It was faded like it was old And yet I hadn't seen it earlier What the hell is happening to me? I asked myself standing up and pacing There was cold beer in the fridge I remembered Despite the time I went in and grabbed a bottle Popping it open and shrugging it I felt so thirsty all of a sudden Like I hadn't drank in days But I didn't want water The thought of it disgusted me The bottle was empty And so I grabbed another and another draining them both Soon I was on my fourth and then it was empty The rest of the six pack was gone two minutes later And I belched loud enough to wake the dead after I'd finished polishing it off Still thirsty I went into the cupboard and pulled out an old dusty bottle of Gibson's I drank it straight down The usual burn of it absent now Instead it just felt like heat in my belly afterwards Suddenly very tired I stumbled off to bed But not before peeking into Greg's room to check on him It was around 3 a.m. by that point He was fast asleep and snoring And his closet door was closed tightly I made sure of that When we woke up the next morning Greg was gone I'd locked all the doors and windows And Greg didn't have his own key He didn't have a cell phone we could trace either But I got the feeling it wouldn't make a difference either way The police came to investigate and were surprised to hear what I do for a living They were even more surprised to hear about the case I'd just been investigating Think it might be a copycat? One of the detectives asked innocently If only it could have been so simple Or maybe the same guy? You might be right I said unable to deny their logic But I knew that wasn't what had happened Not really Well, let's take a look around the room They said and I led them down the hallway towards Greg's room Showing them inside I left it exactly how it was We didn't touch a thing The closet door swung open an inch Then stopped It opened an inch wider And stopped again Does the closet door always do that? The taller detective asked No Why don't you go and take a look