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Growing up, Gavin had all the typical fears of a child. That there was something in his closet, a monster under his bed, haunted attic. Wherever he went, he never felt alone. As a child, it was terrifying but as he grew older, he got used to it and to an extent took comfort in it. It was why he never got worried about living alone, some people hated it, Gavin didn’t mind.
It was only when he stumbled home from a double shift in the early hours of the morning that he began to question his sanity. He’d missed dinner but was too tired do much more than pop a few slices of bread in the toaster and grab the ham from the fridge. In line with his usual luck, a piece of ham slipped from between his fingers and fell to the floor with a splat. Immediately, his cat was prowling towards it and Gavin’s sleepy mind panicked. Not thinking, he kicked the ham under the fridge and out of reach.
“Thanks,” a soft hiss came and Gavin blinked.
“Did you just speak?” he asked the cat.
“No, it was me.” The voice was grating, like metal scraped over rusty metal. There was nothing Gavin could say to that other than “huh” and ump when the toast popped out.
“Want me to make you one too?” he offered, mind addled and half asleep.
“Please.”
Obediently, Gavin assembled another ham and cheese on toast and slid it under the fridge.
“Thanks.”
“Cool, I’m going to hit the sack. Have a good night,” Gavin turned the kitchen light off and stumbled into bed.
In the morning he almost laughed at himself and his sleep addled mind. Of all the things to hallucinate from exhaustion, a voice under his fridge which asked for some food was a new one. He basked in bed for a few more minutes, delaying the inevitable of having to fish out the ham and cheese on toast from under the fridge, now probably coated in age old dust.
Still, it had to be done and once he was finally up, cat food sorted, he knelt down by the fridge and peered under it. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. A torch revealed nothing unusual either, not even a greasy stain where the toast had been. Scratching his head, Gavin tutted to himself, perhaps he’d dreamt the whole thing.
It was only a few days later that he was in the kitchen again that the fridge let out its usual groan as he moved to bin some gone off yoghurt. His hand stilled and he looked at the appliance.
“Was that you?” He felt so silly asking out loud whether his fridge had groaned. But it didn’t compare to his fright when the voice from before gurgled out a “maybe”.
“Cool,” he stalled for time, uncertain what to say. “You hungry?”
“Yes.”
As far as conversations went, it was a pretty stilted one. Whatever lived under his fridge didn’t seem capable of more than one word answers. Which was fair enough, Gavin wondered if he was an entity that lived in cramped, dark places, he too might struggle with words.
“Got a name?” It only seemed polite to ask. The response was a garbling hiss of consonants that should not have been possible to pronounce.
“Is that your name? Or is that you having a breakdown? Shit, you didn’t touch the electricity outlet, did you?”
“No. Name.” The voice repeated what could have been the same sounds as before, or something utterly different but Gavin’s ears caught on a bit.
“That’s getting a little too long for me to pronounce. But part of it sounded like Nines. So I’m going to call you Nines, okay?”
“Okay. Nines. Good. Like.”
If Gavin didn’t know any better, the voice sounded pleased.
From then on, Gavin’s waste took a serious nosedive. Anything on the turn or gone off could be shoved under the fridge and Nines happily chomped away on it. Sometimes, especially if it was something he very much enjoyed, the odd gurgling slurp accompanied it.
Gavin also made changes to his home. Nines was fond of dark, small crevices to hide in. The fridge was his favourite but he also liked to hang out under the washing machine in the bathroom while Gavin brushed his teeth. In the living room, Gavin sold his old coffee table and replaced it with one that sat low on the ground and was wider than his previous one. An additional benefit was that he could put his feet up much more comfortably while they watched TV. His wardrobe was a comforting nook for Nines to hide out in. More often than not, some of Gavin’s jumpers would migrate into the back corner of it, pulled from their hangers. In the end, Gavin just bought a couple more and let Nines rotate them as he pleased.
They had a bit of a game going on too. Some days, Gavin would sneak up on whatever furniture Nines was chilling under and suddenly peer under it with a torch. It was always met by a wry chuckle from somewhere else. How Nines knew Gavin was trying to catch a glimpse of him was a mystery. No matter how silent or abrupt Gavin was, Nines always evaded him.
“Why can’t I see you?”
“Ugly. Scary.”
“Well, you put up with my ugly and scarred ass, can’t be much worse than me,” Gavin tried to make a joke but the alarming growl he got in response had him backing up.
“Not ugly.”
It wasn’t something Gavin was willing to argue over, Nines sounded cross enough and Gavin had seen the things he’d eaten. He really didn’t want to be next on the menu.
“Got any family?” he tried to change tact.
“Brother. Happy.” Another string of garble followed that Gavin guessed was a name. Much like with Nines’ own name, he tried to find something that a human could pronounce.
“Let’s call him Connor, sounds close enough.” Then something struck him. “You say happy. Is that you happy or him happy?”
“Him.” Nines sounded as gentle as he ever could.
“What about you? Are you happy?” It was a heavy question and only when Gavin asked it did he realised how much he wanted the answer to be a yes.
“Almost.”
It crushed Gavin’s heart more than he thought it would. He nodded and made a little noise of acknowledgement, uncertain how to ask what he could do to make Nines happy.
In the end, he didn’t ask. But he made sure to take note of all the things Nines enjoyed more. He bought cherry yoghurt and left it in the sun for a few days before spooning it under the fridge. If sometimes he dipped a pickle in it just he hear Nines’ happy little hums, that was pure coincidence.
He also invested in blackout curtains and some evenings, he sat on the sofa in pitch black as he and Nines talked. Over time, Nines had started to string words together into sentences. Occasionally, Gavin could have sworn Nines’ voice came from the far end of the sofa, along with waves of warmth that definitely didn’t emanate from the radiators.
“Do you ever get bored just lounging in the house?” Gavin asked one night. Nines was either in the wardrobe or, since Gavin had changed to a bed with small legs, under that.
“Too bright. Too scary. Nobody want to see Nines.”
“Oh buddy, don’t put yourself down. Anyway, I think I have an idea. Would you fit in the hood of a jacket? Or a bag?” Gavin’s mind was whirling a mile a minute. He wasn’t sure how big Nines actually was. But if he fit in small dark crannies, perhaps he could curl up small.
“Fall out hood. Too heavy for bag.”
“I want to try the bag idea anyway. It would be nice to have you tag along whenever you fancied,” Gavin pressed the idea even as another one cropped up. “Hey Nines?”
“Yes?”
“You know I like you, right?” There was a soft tremor in his voice. He didn’t want to mess things up but he wanted as much as Nines was willing to offer.
“Yes?”
“Want to get on the bed? You always feel so warm and it’s a bit chilly.”
The refusal was not unexpected and Gavin didn’t take it to heart. If anything, he’d learnt that Nines was tremendously shy. Just getting him to sit on the couch had been a feat which took weeks of asking. So Gavin settled in to do the same with the bed. Each night, he asked Nines if he’d like to join him for a cuddle. And each night Nines refused. But his voice became less firm over time.
Things changed one night when Gavin had stumbled home from another late shift. He was tired, the case was dragging and there was something missing from the picture. Nobody could pinpoint it, but they were so close. Gavin never noticed that he was being followed home.
He opened his door but before he had a chance to flick the lights on, someone was barrelling into him from behind. They tumbled into the house, a hand pressed over Gavin’s mouth to keep him quiet. He struggled, kicked and scratched to no avail. There was the sound of a knife being pulled free and Gavin froze. He knew what was coming, the inevitable pain of a knife burying itself into his flesh. Bracing for it never helped but he tensed in anticipation all the same.
A slurping sound accompanied the sudden loss of tension in the body behind him. Almost in slow motion, it peeled away from him with more crunches and gulps. A soft burp sounded and Gavin tried to make sense of it all.
“You okay?” Nines’ familiar voice snapped him out of it.
“Fuck. Did you just eat him?”
“Yes.”
Gavin swore again and let out a laugh. He couldn’t very well report the incident now. There was no way to explain that the creature that had always lived under his bed since childhood had eaten his assailant. The absurdity of it all had Gavin laughing.
“Close the door, will you? It’s getting cold.”
He heard the door shut and even the faint glimmer of street lights was gone. Not bothering to turn a light on, Gavin picked his way through his home towards the bedroom, trusting Nines to help him stop falling over things.
Once in bed, he patted the space beside him.
“You going to come up for that cuddle then?”
“Yes.”
So it was, that at 1am on an unremarkable Thursday night, the mattress dipped and Gavin smiled.