Monster In the Night

As I slowly climbed the stairs to bed discrepant thoughts surge in my head. For it would not be long before my bedroom door  would slowly open As it usually did;  an omen of what would come. Hot draughts of rancid breathing, upon my neck; which always reeked of beer,  or sometimes stale Darjeeling. Then, subsequently sated; It would slowly whisper in my ear; "Unless you want  I see your little brother too, Don't you go and tell your mother,  dear."