As a child, I had a lot of imaginary friends. But my imagination wasn't always something I could control, and it often created beasts which kept me up at night, and kept me from venturing into the basement, where most all of them lived. This particular creature (Closeup here)
is the black hole monster. He didn't really have a name, but I called him that because when he opened his mouth wide enough, I could see a black, infinite space with a few twinkling lights, which would be either stars or the glistening teeth and eyes of billions of monsters. Being devoured by him would mean being sucked into another dimension where monsters dwelt everywhere and there were no humans and no sunlight; just a dark, vast nothingness filled with things that would eat you for all eternity.
I'm sure all that sounds like... a lot of things, but this monster also had slimy, tar-like tendrils that were more like veins or nerves and could reach around walls. Somewhat plant-like, it could only cling to walls and couldn't reach very far away from its source of stability. But if I got close enough to them, I could feel a sort of electricity coming off them, pulling me closer. If it connected with me, it would be able to paralyze me and drag me into the basement.
The monster could also change size drastically. The rare times I ventured into the basement at night, I could turn around and just see a wide, open mouth full of stained nasty teeth taking up the entire hallway. It could grow larger than my house, but being part of another dimension, it could traverse straight through it like a ghost. It could only see me... therefor I had no place to hide.
I spent a lot of time in my childhood being traumatized by my own brain.
Anyhow, this is my entry to the MAMA Scared Stiff Contest.