The Creature from the Closet

Last year, I bought a closet—a nice, beautiful, sturdy one, but very old. Although, for me, that wasn't a drawback at all, quite the opposite. This retro giant fit perfectly into my room's decor, and I couldn't be happier with my luck at finding such a treasure. My joy didn't last long, though...

About ten days later, I started noticing strange sounds inside the closet, like a mouse rustling on a plywood board. Then I'd open the closet, check every nook and cranny, and make sure there was no one inside. Furthermore, I couldn't find any cracks or holes through which a mouse could get in. I thought it was odd, but I didn't pay it much attention. Nevertheless, I heard these sounds coming from the closet quite often. Once, I even set a mousetrap inside, took out all the things, and sprinkled mouse poison inside. It's clear, of course, that it didn't help. The mousetrap wouldn't close, and the rustling noises only grew louder and more frequent. In the mornings, I'd find the closet wide open. I called a repairman to fix the door. However, the kindly man, after looking at the hinges, assured me the closet was in excellent condition and could last another hundred years.

After that, I'd find the closet open every morning. It's hard to say how much it frightened me back then. Perhaps so much so that I didn't realize it was a good idea to get rid of it. Instead, I continued to insistently close the closet every morning, hearing rustling noises inside and chasing out the invisible mice.

I still remember that night, and I doubt I'll ever forget it. It was around three in the morning, and I was awakened by a strange scraping sound coming from the closet. It sounded like someone was slowly scratching the door with their fingernails. I opened my eyes and looked at the closet. The door closest to me slowly opened, and three white fingers appeared near the handle. A grimace of horror froze on my face at what I saw, and a lump seemed to lodge in my throat. I barely kept myself from screaming. Meanwhile, the closet opened completely, and something white, even snow-white, began to emerge, but it was so ugly that my fear mingled with disgust. A wild noise filled my head, and a shudder ran through my body.

A creature the size of a mongrel emerged from the closet and, standing on its hind legs, looked at me. It's hard to describe that look, as not only was I so confused at the time, but it was also difficult to find the gaze in those stark white eyes. My heart began pounding wildly, and my hands began to tremble, but just as the white creature took a step toward me, I screamed and turned on the light. There was no one in the room except me, and the closet doors were open. I was shaking all over, tears streaming down my face. I couldn't shake myself from that state for about half an hour.

That morning, I advertised the "most beautiful closet with an eighty-year history." I'm lucky I managed to sell it that same day. I understand perfectly well that someone else might be suffering just as much from its strangeness, but let's just say I'm being selfish.