That time when I was a little kid, it was like I was in a dream, one of those dreams where you just keep walking farther and farther away from everything that is safe and real. I had drifted upstairs all alone. At the end of the hall was a dark room. I’d never been in that house before, and I had no business snooping around like that. But I couldn’t help myself; I just had to go into that dark room. It was like I was being pulled in there by something, and even though I was scared out of my wits I kept taking one stupid step after another until I reached the big oak door and opened it.

You know how it is in dreams when you find yourself just having to do scary things, even though you know you shouldn’t. You behave just like one of those incredibly dumb kids in scary movies. One of those nincompoops who goes off by herself into the woods to see what it was that made that sound. You know, a sound like an eight-foot-tall homicidal maniac starting his chain saw.

So there I was, in that dark room, and I didn’t know where the light switch was. And just like in a dream, there was no one I knew anywhere nearby, no one who could protect me. But instead of running, I just kept walking slowly with my hands held out. And then I thought I heard a soft creak like a heavy foot and I couldn’t help it. I said those two words you hear in every scary movie.

“Who’s there?”

There was no answer, but my hand found a heavy curtain. I opened it and it let in just enough light to illuminate the wide-shouldered shape looming over me. That was when I screamed.

And what happened next?

Well, what do you think happened? A great big, hairy, old monster reached down and grabbed me up and ate me. I’m kidding. There was nothing more dangerous in that room than a tall old coatrack with a hat and a jacket on a coat hanger. I didn’t scream for that long—maybe only ten or fifteen seconds before my mom and her friend found me and calmed me down. With the lights turned on, nothing in that room looked frightening anymore. We all ended up laughing about it.

The funny thing, though, is that it didn’t cure me. I stayed just as snoopy as I had been before and just as fascinated by monsters. Like the Whisperer in the Dark. And after hearing that icy voice on the phone, all my memories of monster stories came pouring into my head.