"Go on, get out of here."
I lifted the cup from the old birthday card, breaking the seal and letting the twenty-legged abomination out. I shut and locked the front door as quickly as possible and watched through the window panes as the creature scuttled off my wooden steps and out into the darkness.
Shivering from both the cold midnight air and my disgust, I turned the porchlight off and hurried back upstairs. I found my bedroom exactly as I had left it—in pure disarray. Though smaller than the usual beasties that escaped from my closet, this last one had caused the most damage.
I rubbed at my tired eyes and picked up the comforter I'd thrown off of myself and nearly twisted my ankle on mere minutes before. The glass I'd used to trap the creature had once been half-filled with water, but it had fallen from my bedside table in the struggle and spilled on the ugly brown carpet. It would dry by the morning, but my underwear drawer wouldn't pick itself up.
Setting my comforter back on my mattress, I crouched down by the drawer and a horrifying thought popped into my head. What if that thing had left eggs behind? Grimacing, I started to inspect every sock, bra, and undergarment in the light from my ceiling lamp. Minutes later, I was happy to report that tonight's monster hadn't dropped any spawn in my unmentionables when it tried to hide from the underside of my slipper.
With a groan, I lifted the drawer and put it back into place. I put my hands on my sore back, massaging where it hurt the most. I was just about to find the light switch when I saw it. A new Thing.
The closet door was ajar. One gray horn was sticking out under the doorknob, as well as a cloven hoof on my ugly carpet. The horn poked out a little more and I caught a glance at a beady eye staring at me. The monster froze, then retreated swiftly back into my closet.
"Oh no, you don't," I grumbled, darting to the door. "I have had enough of this shit!"
I grabbed the wood and thrust it open, seeing the creature struggling, its horns stuck in the loose-knit cardigan my grandmother had made for me. When it laid eyes on me, the monster started squealing an awful, high-pitched noise.
For once I was relieved that I lived by myself in the middle of the woods. How the hell would I explain this situation to someone if they came running to help me? Still, the sound was agony on my ears, and I needed to make it stop.
"Quit it!" I hissed.
I knelt down and grabbed the monster by what appeared to be its shoulders. It continued squealing until I shook it hard, then it ceased moving, save for its shallow breathing. Even in the darkness of my closet, I could see that whatever this thing was, it was terrified—way more than I was the first time this started happening.
"I'll make a deal with you," I said to the hideous bipedal goat-like thing staring up at me. "I'll free you, but—"
The monster started struggling again, trying to squirm its way out of my grasp. It opened the mouth at the end of its snout to squeal, but I shook it even harder.
"But you have to take me to wherever the fuck you come from. Do you understand me?"
The monster nodded, the motion of its horns knocking my sweater off of its hook. The thing before me stood still and allowed me to tug the unraveling yarn from its horn, and when I lifted the cardigan off of its head, the way it stared up at me was almost...cute?
No. It wasn't cute. It was vermin. Just like the rest of them.
Behind the monster, I could see a hole in the wallpaper of my closet. That was always there, but it didn't have that blue glowing vortex behind it in the daytime.
The creature in front of me followed my eyeline and jabbed one of its horns toward the vortex. It got on all fours and passed through it, disappearing from my sight. With a gulp, I leaned forward onto my hands and crawled after the thing.
I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't the corporate-looking hallway I found myself in. I got to my feet, the tile floor cold against my bare skin. I turned to see where I had come out of and saw that it had been a small metal door, not a hole in the wall left by water damage. Up above the door was a nameplate.
With my address on it.
"...The hell is this?" I muttered to myself.
I wheeled around, remembering the beastie that had shepherded me through. It was standing there, staring at me with its horned head cocked. Then when it saw I was paying attention, it turned and started walking briskly down the hallway.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
The monster didn't reply, so I started to follow it. All the way down the hallway were posters, ones that looked remarkably like the missing persons ones found on lampposts and advertised on milk cartons. I couldn't make out the twisted letters, but I could see the pictures.
The oozing ghoul from three months ago, the blue puff of smoke I once fanned out of my bathroom window, and the banshee who screamed in my face one cold winter morning, amongst many others I'd encountered since I moved into my house in the woods.
"Hey, what is this place?" I called out to the goat-thing.
That was when it started running.
"Hey! Come back!" I hollered.
It had been a long time since I'd run track in high school, and it was showing. I huffed and puffed, my lungs aching as I breathed in the cold air of the hallway. My heart hammered as I followed the monster around a corner and down another empty hall. But as soon as my second wind hit me, I powered through and leapt forward, grabbing the horned creature by its bottom hooves and bringing it squealing to the ground with me.
"What the hell is going on?" I shouted. "Answer me!"
Instead of the goat-thing responding, every single door in the hallway opened but one. Out poured other monsters, all wearing fancy suits and making me feel even more ridiculous in my plaid shorts and old sweatshirt.
I let go of the monster, not watching as it scrambled away and hid behind what looked like a large slug. My eyes were locked on the tall specter staring down at me from behind his smoky glasses.
"Excuse me, miss, but you are disturbing our work," he said in a hoarse voice.
"Uh, I, um," I spluttered, rushing clumsily to my feet. My body ached from my fall onto the tiles, but I could put some frozen peas on the bumps and bruises when I got back home.
"What is your business here, human?" the ghost interrupted. "Make it quick, we are very busy."
Peering through his misty body, I could see another nameplate by his door. This one said, GRADY CAULFIELD, CEO.
"M-My apologies," I stammered. "It's just that your...employees...?"
Grady nodded curtly.
"Um, your employees have been terrorizing me for the past six months and I'm tired of it," I said breathlessly. "I don't understand what this business is supposed to be, and frankly, I couldn't care less."
"Out with it," Grady barked.
"Right," I said, blushing. "Anyway, I was wondering if you could call your people off and leave me alone."
"You come from the Victorian on Sandy Pond, correct?"
"Yep."
Grady cast his eyes from one end of the hallway to the other. All of the monsters seemed to consider my words, nodding to one another. The goat creature who brought me here poked its head out from behind the giant slug, now wearing its own little suit.
"We've had enough trouble losing our staff members to your residence," Grady said, ignoring the guilty look on my face. "Your motion has been granted. Ichor will take you back to your door and it will be sealed upon your re-entry."
"Thank you," I nodded. "I appreciate—"
But before I knew it, the monsters had turned and slammed their office doors shut. Grady himself had phased through his own door and I was left alone with the little goat beast.
"Come on," he said in a surprisingly deep voice, leading me back the way we came.
I stared, gap-mouthed as I followed him. I couldn't stop asking myself what the hell this place was, or whether or not it was all a dream. As we re-entered the hallway where the door to my closet lay, I saw two monsters in overalls putting up a new missing poster, this one featuring the twenty-legged thing I'd let out earlier that night.
"Here we are," Ichor the goat-thing said to me, opening the small metal door.
My voice finally returned to me as I got to my knees. I turned around and looked into its beady eyes.
"Why were so many of your, uh, co-workers coming after me?" I asked.
"Oh, that?" Ichor reached a hoof up to smooth the fur between its horns. "The old lady who lived in your house before you moved in, she sold her soul to my friend Jorhann in accounting. When she died, her soul went unclaimed. We've been trying to get in touch with her son, Billy."
I nodded soberly. "Billy?" I repeated. "He lives a mile south of me, further down the pond."
"Thank you," Ichor tipped its horns to me as I crawled back into my closet. "I'll get a great commission on this."