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There is no monster under my bed, but there is Larry, who lives in my fridge.
I’m not sure how he got there, or why, or really what he is, but he’s there- every morning of every day for three months.
Now, you might think that having a demonic cryptid in your fridge would be a real hoot, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure, at first it was a bit of a novelty, but now Larry is just a big pain in the ass. A pain in my ass that I have to deal with every morning.
But it isn’t just Larry. Of course it isn’t! I’m not that lucky.
There is also a greedy, yuri-starved dragon living in my freezer. And she was even worse than Larry.
Constant threats to burn down my uninsured apartment, stealing my phone to go on Tumblr, eating all my goddamn chicken nuggets- it never ends! She doesn’t even cook the nuggets, you know? Just eats them frozen. Like a neanderthal.
But there is one thing that sates her destructive fury- yuri.
I only found that out once I realised that my personal collection was returning to my bookshelf cold and crisped with freezer burn. On the days my yuri comics were stolen, it would be quiet. I could find peace.
Well, as much peace as you could find when having to stand off against a terrifying multi-limbed creature when you just wanted to grab some milk for your morning bowl of Cocoa Puffs.
Every morning was a battle. This morning was no different.
I climb out of bed and immediately approach my bookshelf, eying the small stack of freshly frozen yuri that had been returned to my bedroom sometime while I was sleeping.
For a moment, I think about how hilarious a coincidence it is that a yuri-loving dragon has taken claim of the freezer of a hopelessly romantic, single lesbian. It would feel like fate if it weren’t so annoying.
I grab another, knowing this familiar dance all too well. Who knew a morning routine could involve using lesbian romance comics to appease a freezer-sized ancient lizard?
My stomach grumbles uncomfortably. The feeling sends chills down my spine. Being hungry was no longer a normal feeling- It meant I had to see Larry and that dragon.
My feet are heavy on my faux wood flooring, dragging in protest as I approach my kitchen.
The fridge is unassuming, nothing visible alluding to the fact that it was an appliance turned home for two ungodly creatures. Just seeing it has me grimacing in anticipation.
The groan from my lips slips out before I can stem it, and I curse myself for making any noise. From experience, I knew that the dragon in my freezer is a light sleeper.
The bottom freezer cracks open with a hiss, and an outstretched claw reaches out expectantly before I can kick it shut.
“Pay your toll, human girl, so that you may gorge yourself on those horrid Puffed Cocoas,” a gravelly nonhuman voice calls from within the foggy ice.
I sigh, slipping the book into the clawed hand. “You can just grab it from the bookshelf, you know? You don’t have to make me grab it for you every morning…” I grumble.
The book slides into the freezer, barely able to scrape past the small slot that had been opened to allow the dragon to grab her morning yuri.
“It is beneath me to fetch my own tomes. You are a human. It is your duty to serve me, as I am a higher being,” the dragon replies.
“Higher being, my ass. You’re reading an arranged marriage princess x knight historical drama.”
“It reminds me of a time when you humans knew your place”
I purse my lips, biting down an insult for fear it would get my house flame-broiled.
Skipping past her last words, I continue, “Buying these for you is getting expensive. Just go on AO3. There's more than enough yuri on there for you, and it’s free.”
The dragon pauses, a dissatisfied rumbling leaving her throat after a few moments, “I shan’t subject myself to that. I only indulge in true writing, not fanmade filth. Fanfiction isn-”
I kick the door to the freezer shut before she can continue speaking. She can insult me all she likes. She can insult my species. She can even make me her slave- but I will not allow AO3 slander in my household. I don’t even care if she burns down my house.
It takes a while for me to calm down, but my growing hunger eventually convinces me it’s time to push down my feelings and face Larry.
After grabbing the box of ‘Puffed Cocoas’ on my shelf, along with a bowl and spoon, I approach the fridge. Getting milk should be a lot easier than it is, but this is the reality I’ve been subjected to all because of low rent. Fucking affordability crisis.
My hand hesitates on the edge of my fridge. I have no idea why, but seeing Larry has always been far more daunting than seeing the yuri dragon. He doesn’t speak much, or really at all- I only know his name because he let it slip during our first meeting- but ever since then, it’s been silence.
He’s usually very easy-going. Sometimes he even holds out the milk for me to grab before I’ve even opened the fridge door. I really shouldn’t be this nervous to see him. Well… Other than the fact that he was a hunched-over, scaly, tendril-faced monster with huge, voided eyes.
But I should at least be used to that by this point.
I chew on my inner cheek as I finally swing open the door to my fridge.
There, among the half-eaten jars of sauce, wilted lettuce and leftovers, is Larry. He’s crushed in on himself, basically moulding his body into a cube that could uncomfortably fit against the walls of my fridge. His non-human body makes it so that he can twist and turn impossibly, which does wonders for my shelf space. He’s strangely considerate like that.
“Good morning, Larry.” I smile as I realise that a clawed hand is already gripped onto my carton of milk, offering it to me.
I reach to grab it, softly chuckling. “As much as I hate that there's a man in my fridge, you sure are helpful.”
There's a creaky noise that leaves Larry’s throat. He sounds confused.
“Man?” He asks, voice tilted in a disbelieving inflection.
I am equally as confused, pinching open the milk carton and pouring in a healthy amount into my bowl of Cocoa Puffs. I haven’t closed the fridge just yet.
“Yes? A man. Larry. A man’s name,” I clarify. Maybe he thought that I was calling him ‘man’ like a friend would. I absolutely wasn’t.
Just as I reach to put the milk back into the fridge, Larry begins to move.
Huge, scaly limbs pry themselves from the walls of my fridge, morphing to grow even larger now that they are no longer confined to the small space. I can hear the crackling of bones as he crawls out. The noise and visuals are so disgustingly visceral that I squeeze my eyes shut so I won’t have to see it happen.
It goes on far too long, and I’m starting to feel like I want to throw up. Skin, bones, tendons- I can hear all of it morphing as he squeezes out of the fridge. I don’t even have the time to consider why Larry, my fridge monster, is coming out of my fridge for the first time since taking place there.
When it does finally stop, I shudder lightly, still scared to open my eyes.
“I am no man. And my name is not ‘Larry’, it is Lari.” The ‘a’ in Lari draws out in emphasis.
Not a man? What?
I open my eyes, only to be left staring straight at a torso. Fuck, he’s tall.
I look up, and my breath stills. Fuck, she’s tall.
The milk in my hand drops to the floor, spilling everywhere. I don’t care. I only care about what is in front of me.
Lari… He – she’s – beautiful. So tall that her head barely scraped the roof of my apartment. Her skin, while scaly, shone like diamonds in the morning sun. Her various arms, all lying at rest against her sides, are toned and tipped with hilariously huge, black claws that look both dangerous and incredibly… fascinating. At this angle, I can see the plush lips hiding beneath the curtain of tendrils that line her mouth, all absently writhing and twisting.
The rest of her? Well- let’s just say that the lesbian in me had its hands wrapped around the bars of its cage, rattling them with such violence that I was scared it might break free prematurely. I had to stop myself from staring.
I turn away. The pink on my cheeks is rushing down to brighten my chest and ears before I can stop it.
“Oh! Uhm- Nice to uh-” I gulp, “Nice to meet you, Lari.” I say, trying my best to remember how she had said her own name.
One of her many hands is now pressed against my chin, craning my head so that I am forced to look back up at her. My neck hurts from the angle.
Her voided orbs bore into my very soul and wrap around my pathetic, lesbian heart. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
“You have spilled the milk,” she coos. Her voice is so smooth. My heart quickens as I hear the flirtatious tone.
I don’t care about the milk. The milk can go fuck itself for all I care. There’s a very hot cryptid lady holding my chin, why would I care about milk!?
“Can I kiss you?” I blurt out.
“What about your cereal?” she asks, another one of her arms gesturing to the already soggy bowl of puffs on the counter.
“Fuck the cereal.” I have never been less and more hungry in my life.
“Then we can kiss, yes.” Lari sounds like she’s coming to a far less nerve-racking conclusion than I am, but it might just be a body language barrier.
Lari leans down with her lips pursed, almost bending completely, before I quickly reach for her shoulders to stop her.
“No. Not here.” I sigh, eyes flicking to the freezer. I know that goddamn dragon is listening. I don’t want her to ruin the moment.
I hear an exasperated groan come from inside the freezer that confirms my suspicions.
Lari and I need some privacy.
I grab Lari’s hand and pull her away from the fridge and towards my bedroom, unable to help myself. God has given me this opportunity, and I sure as hell won’t waste it!
There is no monster under my bed, but there is Lari- the monster in my bed.