I Thought My Dog Was Acting Strange—Until I Looked Under the Bed (2 of 5)

At first, I groaned and rolled over, dismissing it as another too-early start. But then I noticed something strange.

Murphy wasn’t staring at me. Not really. His gaze hovered just below me… beneath the bed.

The air shifted.

I sat up, suddenly wide awake. Murphy didn’t budge.

“Murph?” I whispered. He flicked his eyes toward me, then back down. I followed his stare, nerves crawling across my skin. I lowered myself, face nearly brushing the edge of the mattress, and peered into the dark space underneath.

That’s when I saw her.

A girl—maybe twelve years old—was curled up tightly beneath the frame, her eyes wide and afraid, hands clenched around one of the bedposts. Her clothes were wrinkled, her cheeks hollow. She didn’t speak. Just trembled.

I jolted back, banging into the nightstand. Murphy didn’t move—just watched, calmly guarding.

My heart raced. “Who are you?” I managed to ask.

No answer. Her lips moved, but nothing came out.

I softened my voice. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”