There was once a little boy who believed in monsters. Everywhere he went he would see them lurking in the shadows and hiding in the ceiling tiles. He tried to tell his teachers and parents, but no one would ever believe him. He did everything he could, from trying to take pictures, to capturing them on video. They were always either too fast, or when he got the pictures developed they just didn’t show up. The boy’s parents began to worry about their son, thinking that his childhood game was beginning to take on a sinister outlook. He was starting to describe the monsters in grueling detail, down to the last flakey scale or yellow glowing eyes. His parents decided to send him to the doctor to get him checked out. The doctor ran a variety of tests on the boy and came down with a final conclusion. The boy was diagnosed with schizophrenia, which could cause him to hallucinate and see strange things. The doctor suggested that the boy’s parents send him to the mental institute for some intensive medical treatment. He is poked and prodded and shocked, but none of the treatments have the slightest effect. They placed the boy in a strait jacket and set in a padded room. The boy had no idea how long he had been there and was beginning to question the existence of the monsters, since he had not seen any in a while. He was drifting off to sleep when out of the corner of his eye he sees a panel of the padded wall slide away, a place that shouldn’t be movable. Standing there was the monster he had seen in the very beginning. It was the shape of a man, but with six long arms, a pale emotionless face, and long claws on each of the end of its hands. He grabs the boy and takes him. The next day the medical officials found nothing there but a single claw in the boys place. They believed he had escaped using the claw to free himself from the strait jacket. His parents knew the truth; they realized all along that he had been telling the truth, and that they would never see their son again.