Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


December 7th 2017 in Microfiction

The teeth came closer and closer, grinding and snapping. Scrunching himself into a ball inside of the closet, Todd tried to concentrate on his breathing; in and out (silently) … in and out … in and … in … He could hear them in the bedroom, clacking as they searched for him, tearing the bed apart. Suddenly, the teeth were at the door, worrying at the lock, the frame screaming as they ripped apart the wood. Todd raised his hands to protect his face from the biting and chewing. Starting awake, Todd looked to the front of the conference room and grimaced. Stacey nudged him in the side with her left elbow. “You didn’t miss anything,” she said with a grin. “Richard’s still talking.” “I know,” Todd responded grimly.

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