Every night, just after the lights went out and the room fell still, a tiny rustle came from under the bed. It wasn’t the wind or the house settling—it was Myslef, the monster who lived beneath the mattress.
Myslef wasn’t scary, though everyone assumed he was. With fur the color of midnight scribbles and eyes that glowed like buttons from an old jacket, he mostly spent his evenings sorting socks and humming off-key lullabies. But he had one job—an important job—and he took it very seriously.
You see, Myslef protected dreams.
Whenever a nightmare tried to sneak into the room—slithering through cracks or drifting down from the ceiling like dark fog—Myslef would spring into action. He’d launch himself out from under the bed with a squeaky roar (because he was very small and his roar tended to come out cute), wave his tiny broom of bravery, and shoo the nightmare away until it scattered like dust.
But the best part? No one ever knew. In the morning, everyone would stretch, yawn, and wonder why they slept so well. Myslef would curl up under the bed, proud, tired, and maybe a little dusty, ready to do it all again the next night.
And if you ever hear a faint rustle under your bed right as you drift off… don’t worry.
It might just be Myslef, making sure your dreams stay bright.