Mycheal-la-Razr

"Mom?" The young boy sat huddled in the corner of his room, knees to his chest, eyes wide. "Mom?" he called again, though his voice was soft and he doubted anyone would hear him. But he was too afraid to call any louder. The creature would hear him. The room was dark; there was a lamp in the corner but the naked bulb had long since burnt out. Still, the boy could see clearly. The papers strewn across the bare floor, the mattress pushed against the adjacent wall, the two doors (one leading to a small bathroom, the other to the outside world); all of these were clearly outlined to him as if it were day. There was something else in the room