Barstable, the Night Warrior

This story has been written for RM Stockton's February Write Club Prompt and you can read about that below:

This month's prompt is to write about the monster under your bed.

I'm also aiming to write a microfiction story a day every day in 2024. No more than 366 words. A link to access the stories I have written so far is below:

***

She doesn't know I'm here. But she would know if I wasn't.

She's my Leanna.

I am Barstable and I am a Night Warrior, a protector of dreams. By day, I lurk in the spaces under Leanna's bed, manipulating my bulk into the space left by the Keeper of the Clothes, Stowa and the Ruler of the Toys, the Bear King, Ted. Other things join us in our daytime respite: the Cloak of Sugar, Crinkly Wrapper and the Catcher of Germs, Clean-X; perhaps one of the Sock People. Spider soldiers come and go, always redeployed and we had a one time visit from Mouse, role unknown.

I rest hard as my nights are demanding. I love Leanna. She is my charge. She dreams fantastically! My, oh my! The winds that rise from her night-time imaginings tweak me and prod me playfully, the impish delights! They know that I'm here for them, to keep them from the Stealers. I love them too.

Stealers want her dreams for themselves and Leanna's dreams are gold dust. Stealers will grab and grasp, sneak and seek, ambush and attack, whenever they can to blacken and tarnish.

And steal.

Every night, they come and every night, I am here.

The one she calls "Mum", sometimes the one she calls "Dad", come and read from the pages of other dreamers' journals. Leanna likes lions, dinosaurs and oceans best and I am like all.

I love stories.

Slowly, her eyes relax and my work begins. First, the quiet. Stealers are stealthy. I shield Leanna as her dreams begin to rise. And then the attacks come. They are crafty, Stealers. Sly. They like to hurt, scratch. I have scars. And sometimes, they manage to stain a dream and make it black. None stolen on my watch yet but I have seen her whimper and twitch as a Stealer's black claw tears at a dream's fabric, grabbing a thread for itself.

You'll have your own Stealers, intent on darkening the things to which you aspire; who, like the weight of an anvil, will tie themselves to you to bring you down to earth; who thwart and limit and deride.

I hope you have your own Barstable.

***

366 words

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read it please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers. And check out RM Stockton's writings as well as the other entries for the challenge as there are some good ones already out there.

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