“You have to remember, Paul, they aren’t actually real.” the Doctor had said it exactly 24 times at Paul’s check up, as though he was trying to discretely drill it into the young man’s head.

“I know that…” Paul said to himself as he made his way up the sidewalk towards home, his hands wedged into his pockets. “Right?”

'Of course they’re real! You hear them! For God’s sake you can SEE them.' The voice inside Paul’s head screamed loudly. He could feel it scratching at his skull, as if it was desperate to make him believe that what he had seen in his house was actually there.

“Mother always said that monsters weren’t real.”

'Well! Look at what happened to mother!'

With a nervous sigh, Paul ran a shaking hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he walked, briefly, as if to calm himself. Though he knew it wouldn’t work. He came to the small house on a quaint little street. All seemed ordinary and in place, to the untrained eye, but Paul knew differently. He hesitated at his door, not wanting to open the door.

In truth, he was scared. Scared of what he may open his door to, afraid of what was hiding in the corners of his house. After he felt that he had stayed still a little too long, did he finally turn the handle and enter.

“Paul, where have you been?” A voice echoed through the house, sounding almost angry.

“The doctor.” Paul replied apprehensively.

“Trying to get rid of me again?” the voice seemed quiet now, and calm, but Paul knew what was going to happen.

'Paul, run.'

For the first time in Paul’s life, he gladly agreed with the small voice in his head, and turned for the door. “Locked.” The voice said, an eerie laugh following the statement. He grabbed the handle and shook it furiously, letting out a frustrated yell as the door wouldn't budge.

“I tooooold you.” the voice sang happily, its sound making Paul flinch.

Paul you have to leave. NOW.

“Yeah, i gathered that.” Paul growled, racing for the window, but it too refused give way.

“Paul, you can’t leave now. You disobeyed me.”

The voice began to laugh, as Paul turned towards the empty house, watching the shadows move and dance against the wall as more laughter seemed to join in with the first voice.

He collapsed against the wall, placing both hands over his head, and sliding to the floor. the noise got louder and louder. suddenly Paul opened his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs, maybe even louder. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?”

All sound ceased, then the first voice replied to his demand. “Oh Paul, you silly boy. I don’t have to tell you what I want, I simply take what I wish.” before Paul could ask, the voice continued. “What do i want? Your thoughts. Hopes, dreams, aspirations, the whole lot of them. I need to feed on something, and you are such an easy target.”

“But, i don’t have dreams! I hardly have a JOB!”

“And never once have you wondered why? I don't feed on dreams that have come true, i take the ones that might, then i harvest the energy of what they could have become.”

“You can’t. You can’t do that!” Paul yelled back, his bravery fading quickly.

“You have to sleep sometime.”

“You are ruining my life!” he yelled.

“That's the idea, Paul.”