In his sleep, he had pulled up the covers, leaving his feet exposed to the cold air and whatever might come out from under the bed. He couldn’t help imagining the feeling of something grabbing him — claws, hairy hands, bony skeleton fingers — so he immediately tucked in his legs, pulling himself up into a ball under the protection of the blanket. He realized he had to pee, but that would have to wait. No way was he getting out of bed now in the darkness of the middle of the night. He’d just have to hold it.
Under the bed, she held a hairy claw over her mouth, trying to muffle the sound of her nervous breathing. No way was she going to climb out and try to dart to the safety of the closet now. Not with that thing up there on the bed watching, covered by its protective sheeting. She couldn’t even reach up to grab its feet to startle it long enough to get across the room. She would just have to wait.