Ethan Blackwood was just like any other boy his age. He had messy brown hair that never seemed to stay in place, big green eyes that always looked a little curious, and a smile that could brighten anyone's day. But there was one thing that made Ethan different from the other kids in his town—he wasn't afraid of anything. Not the dark, not thunder, and definitely not the spooky stories his dad loved to tell.
You see, Ethan's dad was a famous horror writer. Mr. Blackwood could come up with the scariest stories you'd ever hear, tales of ghosts, monsters, and all things creepy. He'd read them to Ethan every night before bed, hoping to give him a good fright. But instead of shivering under his blankets, Ethan would just laugh and say, "Nice try, Dad!" No matter how spooky the story was, Ethan always found it funny.
This drove the monsters crazy. Yes, the monsters were real, though most people didn't know it. They lived in the shadows, hiding under beds, in closets, or around dark corners. Their job was to scare people, especially kids. But Ethan was different. No matter what they tried, they couldn't make him scream or even jump. And this made them very, very frustrated.
One afternoon, after a long day at school, Ethan was walking home like he always did. The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows on the sidewalk. But Ethan didn't mind; he liked how the shadows made the world look like a painting. He was in no hurry, so he took his time, kicking a pebble down the road.
As he rounded the corner to his street, Ethan noticed something odd. A figure was standing in the shadows, just at the edge of his vision. It was tall, with long, thin arms and a head that seemed too big for its body. The figure stayed perfectly still, watching him.
Ethan stopped and squinted at the figure. "Hello?" he called out, but there was no answer. The figure just stood there, staring at him with glowing yellow eyes. Most kids would have run away by now, but not Ethan. He was more curious than scared.
He took a step closer. "Who are you?"
The figure shifted slightly, its shadowy form rippling like smoke. Then, in a voice that sounded like the rustling of dead leaves, it said, "Come, my boy."
Ethan frowned. "My mom told me not to talk to strangers," he replied, crossing his arms. He was sure this was another one of his dad's tricks, maybe some new story character brought to life to try and spook him. But Ethan wasn't falling for it.
The figure seemed taken aback, its yellow eyes widening. "I am Xerath, the fearsome shadow of the night. We are no longer strangers."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Xerath? That's a funny name." He shrugged. "Well, I'm going home. My mom's making spaghetti tonight."
And with that, Ethan turned and walked away, leaving Xerath standing there, confused. No one had ever just walked away from him before. Xerath wasn't used to this. He was used to children running away screaming, not talking about spaghetti.
But Xerath wasn't about to give up that easily. He was a monster, after all, and monsters don't just give up. So, he decided to follow Ethan home, determined to scare the fearless boy.
Ethan walked through his front door, kicked off his shoes, and headed straight for the kitchen, where the smell of tomato sauce filled the air. "Hi, Mom!" he called out, grabbing a piece of garlic bread from the counter.
Mrs. Blackwood turned from the stove and smiled at her son. "Hey there, sweetheart. How was school?"
"Same as always," Ethan said with a shrug, his mouth full of bread. "Oh, and there's a weird guy named Xerath outside. He followed me home."
Mrs. Blackwood blinked, a little surprised. "Xerath? That's an unusual name."
"Yeah, he's kind of funny-looking too. Tall, all shadowy, with big yellow eyes." Ethan didn't seem bothered at all. He was too busy enjoying his snack.
Mrs. Blackwood's smile didn't waver. She was used to Ethan saying strange things. "Well, maybe he's just lost. You know how your dad's stories attract all sorts of interesting folks."
"Maybe," Ethan said, though he wasn't convinced Xerath was just another fan. Still, he wasn't worried. If Xerath wanted to hang around, that was fine by him. It wasn't like he was scary or anything.
Meanwhile, Xerath hovered outside the window, watching Ethan and his mom. The light from the kitchen made him look even more shadowy, his form flickering in the glow. He tried making scary faces, but Ethan didn't even glance his way. It was like the boy didn't even notice him.
Xerath decided he'd need to try harder. So, later that night, when Ethan was in bed, Xerath crept into his room. The boy was fast asleep, snuggled under a thick blanket, with only the top of his head peeking out. Xerath grinned, his yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. This was it—the perfect time to scare him!
He made his way to the bed, floating silently over the floor. He leaned in close, his shadowy breath cold against Ethan's face. "Boo!" Xerath whispered, his voice low and menacing.
Ethan opened one eye, blinked sleepily at Xerath, and yawned. "Oh, it's you again," he mumbled, rolling over. "Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"
Xerath was stunned. This was impossible! How could the boy not be scared? He tried again, this time making a terrible screeching sound that echoed through the room. But Ethan just pulled the blanket over his head and muttered, "Please keep it down, Xerath. I've got school in the morning."
Feeling utterly defeated, Xerath floated to the corner of the room and sat down, his shadowy form sagging. This had never happened before. He had never met a kid who wasn't afraid of him. What was he supposed to do now?
Ethan, meanwhile, had already fallen back asleep, his soft snores filling the room. Xerath watched him for a while, then sighed. He didn't know why, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. There was something about this boy that was different, something that made Xerath want to stick around, even if he wasn't doing a very good job of scaring him.
The next morning, Ethan woke up to find Xerath still sitting in the corner, looking sad and a little lost. Ethan rubbed his eyes and yawned. "You're still here?"
Xerath nodded slowly. "Yes... I suppose I am."
Ethan thought about this for a moment, then smiled. "Well, if you're going to hang around, you might as well help me with my homework. I've got a math test coming up."
Xerath blinked in surprise. "You... want my help?"
"Sure, why not? I bet you're good with numbers. You seem like a smart monster."
Xerath wasn't sure how to respond to that. No one had ever called him smart before. But before he could say anything, Ethan was already gathering his books and setting them on the bed.
And so, Xerath found himself sitting next to Ethan, helping him with math problems. He didn't really understand how he got into this situation, but for the first time, it didn't seem to matter. Ethan didn't treat him like a monster; he treated him like a friend. And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing after all.
And so began Ethan's strange new life. Every day, more monsters came to try and scare him, and every day, they failed miserably. But instead of being upset, they found themselves drawn to the boy who wasn't afraid. They started helping him with his homework, joining him for meals, and even walking him to school.
Ethan's house became the go-to spot for monsters, a place where they could be themselves without worrying about scaring anyone. And Ethan? Well, he finally had a group of friends who were just as strange as he was.
As for Xerath, he became Ethan's closest companion, always by his side, ready to help with whatever strange adventure the day might bring. Together, they made an unstoppable team, facing every challenge with a smile and a laugh.
And in the end, Ethan discovered something important. It wasn't about being fearless; it was about seeing the world in a different way. Even the scariest monsters could be friends if you gave them a chance.
But little did Ethan know, the real adventures were only just beginning...