"Daddy, can you read me a story?" my little girl asked me. It was getting late, and we both had to get up early the next morning, so I refused. "Sorry sweetie, but if we stay up reading we'll never get up tomorrow, will we?" I replied. "But Daddy, I need a story to get to sleep," she cried out and looked up at me with those puppy eyes that her mother had. I sighed, and yet again refused. "Not tonight, sorry," I said to her, before giving her a kiss on the cheek and tucking her in.
I was halfway out the door when she shouted out yet again, "Daddy!" I turned to see her almost in tears. "There's monsters in my closet!" she whimpered. I was getting annoyed now. "I'm going to check your closet, and when I find out there's nothing in there, you have to go to sleep. Sound good?" She nodded with a smirk.
I walked over to the closet and looked back at my daughter, who was sat in her bed smiling. There was something odd about this, like she was up to something. She likes to play pranks on people, surprise them, so I didn't give it too much thought and got ready for something to jump out. I opened the closet doors. "See, there's nothing he-" I stopped talking when I looked into the closet. My face turned a ghostly pale. Sat there in the closet was my daughter, rocking back and forth like she was insane. Tears streamed down her face, and the only thing that came out of her mouth was "There's a monster in my bed."
I turned around to face what I had just thought was my little girl. She was smiling. And that grin only got wider as I saw in horror that she was holding a knife.