Brielle Rose Hewitt. Age 8. Inhabits 421 Melrose Place in Anaheim, California. Fears include the dark, spiders, and thunderstorms. I shut the case file with a huff and sat back in my chair. This girl, this small little child who seemed identical to millions of other children across the world was somehow causing me a slew of complications. It started off fine, I’d send one of our employees to her at night, they would scare her, and then return to headquarters until the next night. It was only a few months ago that everything started to go wrong. I sent Greg, the scarer assigned to her case for years, to skulk under her bed and give her a good scare. However, Greg arrived back much earlier than normal in a fit yelling that Brielle was a menace and was incapable of being scared. At first I dismissed him, Greg had failed a few other instances at terrifying a client and assigned a different scarer to her case. It happened again. I sent Judy the next night only to have her return fuming and refusing to ever return to Melrose Place again. I’ve dealt with many other cases like this before, some kids simply are harder to scare, so I pulled out the classified list. The most horrifying individuals were written on this list and I knew one of them would be able to terrify Brielle and leave her screaming and shaking. The Nightmare Corporation had never been rendered unable to scare a kid since our opening back in 1958, but the classified list was only ever used in severe situations.

I called the first name on the classified list into my office and explained the situation with Brielle. His name was Jack, he’d been with us for years and was highly experienced in terrifying children, he had a degree from Petrifying University and everything. We carefully went over Brielle’s case and established a foolproof plan guaranteed to make her wet her pants. Since brielle was notoriously afraid of the dark, Jack was first going to manipulate light and stay in the shadows. If that didn’t work, he would have spiders fall from the ceiling above her bed. Finally if both of those failed he would produce an unrelenting stream of thunder noises: room shaking, vase breaking booms. I escorted Jack to the train we used to transport scarers to their assignments that night with full confidence the Brielle problem would be solved. Hours later I was in my office finishing some paperwork when Jack stormed in: furious and soaking wet. “Jack what happened?” I questioned in concern.

“That...that blasted little…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, overcome and shaking with his rage.

“You weren’t able to scare Brielle?” I asked, careful to mask my disappointment. I glanced at the chair in front of my desk signalling him to take a seat.

He sighed and sat down running a hand through his hair, “No. In my fifty plus years of working for Nightmare I’ve never failed. I’m so sorry I knew you were counting on me.”

“It’s fine don’t beat yourself up over it, it seems Brielle just doesn’t want to be scared.”

“I’m telling you she’s a demon. I’m scared of her. The way she…” he shuddered and looked at his hands.

“You don’t need to talk about it.” He smiled at me gratefully.

“Why don’t you head on home, you’ve had a rough night.” He nodded and thanked me before leaving my office. As soon as he was gone I put my head in my hands and exhaled. What was I going to do about Brielle Rose Hewitt?

As I deliberated possible solutions to my Brielle puzzle I realized I had no choice. I had to scare her myself. Now I’m a firm believer in modesty and have never been much of a bragger, but I am one of the most accomplished scarers of all time. I’m the head of an enormous company that has generated my employees and I great success. It had been years since I’d gone on an actual mission myself, but scaring is like riding a bike, you never forget it. I spent the remainder of the night practicing on the simulations we use to train new employees, at 10:00 pm tomorrow night Brielle Rose Hewitt would be terrified.

As time ticked on and 10:00 approached rapidly I grew anxious but excited. There was nothing like the feeling a successful job brought me and I looked forward to experiencing it again. I boarded the train at 9:30 and in no time found myself situated in front of a simple two story colonial. 421 Melrose Place Anaheim, California. The house looked different than the photograph saved on file, years had peeled and chipped away the once bright blue shingles on the house. The grass carpeting the lawn was brown and crunchy, not vibrant and fresh like the other homes on the block. I recognized Brielle’s window, the second from the right on the second story located on the front of the house. I was a shadow, seeping up the wall of the house and under the shut windowsill. I stood in the corner of Brielle’s room, a small space with violet walls. The only furniture was a small single bed, tiny desk, and a white bureau. The rug masking most of the hardwood floor was littered with a few dolls and stuffed animals. A moon-shaped nightlight the size of my fist was plugged in on the far wall and projecting a dim spill of yellow light. The room spoke of innocence and painted the picture of a girl wrapped in the arms of an ordinary childhood.

I glided soundlessly closer towards the bed and got a good look at Brielle. She was a small thing, able to make an already toy sized bed seem huge. Long brown curls cascaded over the pillow and tiny hands clutched a stuffed rabbit for dear life. Her pink lips were parted and eyes shut so that her long lashes rested peacefully on her porcelain cheek. Now I know what you’re thinking...don’t you feel bad about scaring innocent kids like Brielle? I’m not a total monster, of course I feel a little bad but I need to make a living and none of the kids are ever physically harmed. I slithered underneath the tiny bed engulfing myself in darkness. Using my long nails I scratched at the mattress supports so that they shuddered and made an eerie sound. Moments later I heard the telltale signs of Brielle beginning to stir. I felt her sit up in bed with a gasp, it was now or never.

Slowly inching myself out of hiding in preparation to pounce I was shocked to see a tiny hand grab the part of my arm that was exposed and pull me out. What in the world? Gathering my balance I looked around bewildered to find Brielle sitting on her bed with her arms crossed glaring at me. “I thought I got rid of you weirdos,” she scolded me in a small voice. I was speechless, never in my life had a child ever dared to look me in the eyes, let alone talk to me. “Well, are you going to explain yourself?”

“I-I-I’m here to scare you,” I stuttered. What was wrong with me?

“Well you clearly stink at that,” she huffed rolling her eyes. “That other guy was so bad I made him play dolls with me for an hour to make up for it.” Her pink lips turned into a satisfied smirk. Poor Jack.

“I’ll have you know Jack is a terrifying guy-”

“Yeah yeah yeah whatever. If you’re just going to stand there I’m going back to sleep,” Brielle interrupted me then rolled over grabbing her stuffed bunny. I was frozen, I had no idea what to do. It seemed no matter what I did I wouldn’t be able to scare Brielle. The only logical thing to do know was return to headquarters and burn Brielle’s case file, there would be no more attempts to scare her ever again. Sighing I began to head towards the window when a sudden banging sounded from the floor below.

Brielle shot up in a bed with a start, her green eyes wide in panic. “Oh no he’s home,” she whimpered then leaped out of bed in a flash clutching her bunny.

“Whose home?” I asked in curiosity. Maybe this person who had her so worked up could scare her. She shuffled about her room throwing toys and books on the floor creating a mess. “Why are you trashing your room?” She ignored me and continued to turn her floor into a frat house the morning after a party. All the while more bangs and crashes sounded from below, it seemed like someone was climbing the stairs and failing. All of a sudden Brielle seemed to remember I was here and headed towards me grabbing my arm and attempting to tug me forward again.

“C’mon!” She yelled attempting to tug me even harder. Her hair was wild and her eyes kept glancing towards the door every two seconds.

“Not until you tell me why,” I countered.

“Please!” She begged almost on the verge of tears. I had no idea why on Earth she was so upset but it made my resolve loosen a bit as I allowed her to finally drag me forward. “Under here,” she instructed crawling under her bed and pushing herself as far back as she could fit. I knew she wouldn’t answer any more questions so I followed suit squishing myself next to her. My position allowed me to view the bottom of the door and most of her toy strewn floor. The footsteps that had once been distant became louder, obviously the person had finally won the battle with the stairs. Whoever it was continued to stomp down the hallway and as each step grew louder Brielle tried to curl herself in a tighter ball. Suddenly the footsteps stopped and someone jiggled the doorknob outside until Brielle’s door opened with a creak.

A man opened the door and stepped into the room. He was tall, I estimated around six feet and well built. As he stumbled closer my nose alerted me to the overwhelming smell of whiskey. Brielle was holding her breath, scared to make any sound. The man tried to move forward and stumbled over all the books and toys strewn across the floor, curses spewing from his mouth like vomit. It occurred to me that maybe Brielle had put them there on purpose. Standing only a few feet away from the bed he began to slur, “Briellleee.Where are you?” She began shivering, I’m sure if she had been near a window she would have jumped out of it. “I’m not playing these games,” he continued. “If you don’t come out I’ll tear this room apart, and you know I always find you.” With each word he spoke the smell of alcohol grew more and more pungent. Although Brielle was smart, setting up traps and everything to delay this disgusting man, he was still smarter. There are only so many places to hide in a tiny bedroom. He reached a hand under the bed to grab Brielle but he wasn’t expecting me to be there.

I allowed him to pull me out, coming face to face with him. I run a nationally acclaimed scare company, my primary occupation is to scare people and I am renowned for it. This man was in for it. “I told you I’d find you-” he stopped abruptly staring up at me in fear. I smiled at him, allowing all of my jagged pointy teeth to show. He began to cower and back away but tripped on the toys in his haste. I continued to advance towards him, the smile never leaving my face. Everything suddenly made sense to me, why Brielle was never scared and why she was so tough. She had already experienced the scariest thing in the world. Her father was an alcoholic and abused her nightly, the bruises I had brushed off as childhood bumps and scrapes were from something much worse. There are scarier things in the world than monsters.

“If you ever lay a hand on this child again, I will pay you another visit...and I won’t be so nice this time,” I hissed heading towards him. He gulped and nodded, crawling out of the room in panic. I noticed a wet spot had formed in his pants. Laughing I continued forward, “You’re scum. Your daughter’s spit is worth more than your entire life.” He managed to stand up and left as fast as he could, which was impressive for a man with a .2 BAC. I went back to the bed and cautiously peered underneath, Brielle was still under there eyes wide and shiny with tears.

“It’s ok, you can come out now you’re safe,” I assured her reaching my hands out. She took them and allowed me to pull her out, standing before me a bit shaken. “Are you o-” I was interrupted by her small arms wrapping themselves around my body and squeezing me as tight as possible.

“Thank you,” she gasped. At that moment I decided that no matter what consequence I would always protect this little girl. If anyone hurt her, they would have me to deal with. She had already dealt with enough monsters for a lifetime.