The sound of something scurrying over the hardwood floor woke me up. I remained still as my mind slowly cleared the remnants of sleep. What was that? My first thought was that I had a mouse running around, but there had never been mice in my house or in those of my neighbours. I listened intensely—it seemed to be coming from the far corner of the room. The sound sent shivers up my spine. I needed to know what it was. I held my breath and quickly turned on the light.

I sat upright and scanned the room to hopefully catch the furry bugger in action, but what I saw right next to my wardrobe was not furry. Whatever it was, I'm certain it's not mentioned in any biology book. A round head the size of an apple rested on a thin body that looked like a mere bundle of twigs. It stared at me with four black eyes, and my jaw dropped in astonishment. Below the eyes a horizontal slit appeared—it widened and revealed teeth that resembled pieces of broken glass. It raised two of its stick-like appendages and the tips split into something you could call fingers. It emitted a high pitched shriek and dashed towards me.

Without realising what I was doing my hands grabbed the pillow that was beside me. The creature jumped onto the bed and lunged towards my face with its—now sharp—claws. I could feel every fibre in my body scream at the sight of the alien thing, but my instincts had taken over. The pillow collided with the creature with so much force that it flew across the room and hit the wall.

Panting heavily and with the pillow gripped so tightly my knuckles turned white, I got out of the bed and walked around it to where the thing had landed. I stifled a scream when the creature came into view—it lay motionless on the ground, its eyes closed. I approached it cautiously, clutching the pillow for dear life. Several of the small twigs were broken, but there was no blood of any kind. Suddenly the four eyes shot open and this time I did scream.

The creature was still very quick despite its broken limbs, and it shot right past me towards the wardrobe. I tried to hit it with the pillow but missed several times. As it climbed up the drawers I finally struck the thing and after three times it fell to the ground—there were broken sticks everywhere.

Adrenaline was still rushing through my veins, and all I could hear was my heartbeat and rapid breathing. I stared at the thing—or what was left of it. Broken twigs lay scattered around the circular head and along the path it had come running. There didn't seem to be any more of those limbs attached to the head, but I didn't dare touch it with my bare feet or hands. Using the pillow I stirred the remains. I was right: there was nothing attached to the head anymore.

I turned on the main light to observe it all a bit more closely. I picked up one of the twig-like appendages and snapped it. To my surprise it was just a stick: I could clearly see the fibres and recognised the outer texture as bark.  My heart started to calm down a bit. Did I imagine it?

My eyes shot towards the round thing that had been the creature's head. I walked over: it looked like a mere rock. The grey surface was quite smooth; there was no indication that it had ever had eyes—let alone four of them. I frowned and stared at the broken twigs again. As unreal as it all seemed, I couldn't have imagined it. I mean, there were sticks scattered throughout my bedroom and not to forget a lone rock. Where did those come from?

My heart rate started to increase again. Maybe it's playing dead? I slowly backed away towards the corner of the room. My hand searched the wall until my fingers touched cold wood. I grabbed the baseball bat without taking my eyes from the rock. With the weapon raised I approached the remains of the creature. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest and all I could hear was the rushing of my own blood. I swallowed as I got closer. My greatest fear was that the four eyes would suddenly appear again and stare at me—or worse: for it to sprout new limbs and attack.

Using the bat I poked the stone.

Nothing happened.

I nudged the thing again, but it remained a simple rock. Still, my heart was not slowing down and my nerves weren't calming. I kept prodding the thing, but with each jab the bat came down harder. After an unknown amount of time I was hitting the rock with all my strength. I was panting heavily, but I just kept going at it. In the back of my mind I realised I was both ruining my hardwood floor and my wall, but I didn't care.

A sudden sickening crack broke the trance I was in. I stopped what I was doing and looked down. I expected to see some damage to the wall, maybe some plaster that had broken off, but what I saw instead made my stomach turn. I dropped the bat as I gagged and I sprinted to the bathroom to throw up.

After washing my face with cold water I finally dared return to my bedroom. My legs were still shaking and my hands were trembling, but I forced myself to look. There, against the wall, lay the remains of what I had deemed to be a rock. I had finally managed to break it open, but the insides were most definitely not stone. Red goo was oozing out of the broken thing, and I thought I saw something resembling intestines. I tried to suppress another gag reflex, but stomach acid still made it into my mouth.

I was not crazy: that creature had been real and I had just killed it!

Not wanting to touch it I went downstairs, holding tightly onto the railing in order to not fall down, and got a plastic bag. I went back to my bedroom in a haze. When I returned a bit to my senses I found myself staring at the smashed rock again—the crimson filling of the stone made my stomach turn again and I swallowed.

I placed my hand inside the bag and carefully picked up the bloody remains. It smelled like rotten fish and I gagged again. I turned the bag inside-out and closed it. Keeping it at an arm's length I ran outside. Not wanting it anywhere near me or my house I walked on my slippers to the nearest dumpster. I opened the hatch and threw it in. Hugging myself I walked back to my house. I was starting to calm down a bit, but I couldn't help feeling slightly bad.

I had just killed something, and I didn't even know what I had killed. Were there more of them?

I stopped dead in my tracks as that thought went through my mind. For some reason I hadn't really thought about that. What if there were more? Would they avenge their fallen comrade? I looked around in the dark as paranoia consumed me. I saw lots of rocks everywhere. Were they rocks, or were they alive? How would I be able to tell without them waking up or me smashing them open? I increased my pace and eventually ended up sprinting the last bit to my front door.

Those things could be anywhere and I wouldn't even know! I stared out my window and into my yard. The stones lining the gravel path looked menacing now. I bit the tip of my thumb as anxiety wrecked my mind. Would they come for me? Why did the one that was in my bedroom come in the first place? Had it intended to harm me, to kill me? Or did it only attack because I had caught it in action?

I sat down on the couch and started to rock back and forth—it helped calm my nerves a bit.

It had to be an exception. If I were to walk into the woods at night, what were the odds of me getting murdered? There are a lot of humans in this world, and how many of them are psycho killers? The odds of getting killed in the woods at night would be relatively small... I just have to believe that the same counts for that strange creature—it was an exception. If there were others, and if there's one there must be more, what are the odds of them being just as vicious?

I just have to believe this was an exception... I must believe...

Still, I couldn't help but wonder: what if they were not like humans, but more like lions? Or any other predator for that matter...

I rocked back and forth on the couch. My mind was playing tricks on me—it must be. It was in the middle of the night, but I could swear I was hearing movement outside. A cat was probably just walking by.

Yes, a cat.

I closed my eyes and swallowed. I could hear the gravel outside shifting. Just a cat, I kept telling myself. If I repeated it enough times I would eventually start to believe it. And I have to believe. I need to believe...