Monsters under my bed” just won’t leave my head.
The thought pulses with every second, louder than my heartbeat, louder than the silence pressing in on my room. I stare into the dark, afraid to blink in case something moves while my eyes are closed. There’s a slow dragging sound beneath me—wet, deliberate, like something learning the shape of the floor.
I’m too scared to move. Too scared to call out to Mum or Dad
[Guitar Solo]
Ooohh ooohh oooh monsters under my bed can't seem to get them out of my head monsters
My throat tightens every time I try. No sound comes out, just a dry gasp that feels too loud in the stillness. I want the light, but the switch is too far. I can’t reach it. I don’t dare try. So I pull the blanket up, gripping it like it might keep something out.
It doesn’t.
My breathing gets louder. So do my senses. Every creak of the house feels wrong, stretched, like it doesn’t belong here anymore. Every shadow feels like it’s slipping closer, peeling itself off the walls, crawling toward me. I swear I can see them shifting, inching, gathering.
Then something touches the underside of the mattress
[Guitar Solo] oooh oooh oooh
Monsters under my bed can't get them out of my head, monster
A slow press. Then another.
It’s right beneath me.
The bed dips, just slightly—just enough that I feel it. My body locks. My breath stops, but something else doesn’t. There’s another breath now, deeper, wetter, matching mine.
Right behind my ear.
And from below, something whispers, patient and hungry:
“I’ve been waiting for you to look.The voice doesn’t come from under the bed anymore.
It’s right behind my ear.
Cold breath spills across my neck, damp and slow, like it’s tasting the air around me. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself not to turn, not to move, not to breathe—but my body betrays me. A shudder runs through me, and the mattress dips deeper, as if something heavier is settling in beside me.Then—A knock.Sharp. Sudden. From under the bed.
Once. Twice.Then faster. Desperate.
My eyes snap open.The whisper returns, thinner now, almost strained. “Don’t listen to it.”
Another voice answers from below. My voice.Perfect. Panicked.
“Please,” it cries. “That’s not me in the bed.”The thing beside me goes very still.My thoughts fracture. I don’t understand—can’t understand—but the voice under the bed keeps begging, louder now, frantic, clawing against the wood.
“It took my place. Don’t turn around. Don’t let it—”The bed jerks.
Silence slams down.
The thing next to me slowly inhales, then speaks in my exact voice:
Too late.The knocking stops.
Because now—
it’s coming from inside the mattress
[Final Chorus]
Oooh oooh oooh monsters under my bed cant seem to get them out of my head monsters
I finally get the strength and jump up gooze bumps n all and run to the door. Dad opens the door suddenly and turns on the light. Son its all in your head no monsters here. That's when turns into a 2 headed growling monster. I wake up n see the sunlight yes I made it.
