Don't Look Under The Bed

He undressed and got himself ready for bed. It had been a long, exhausting day.
A brief sensation of being watched occurred to him as he shut off the light.
Making his way around the bed by memory, he cursed as his shin struck the frame.
As he drew back the covers, a massive, clawed hand lunged from under the bed, grasping his ankle.
He shrieked as he struggled, but its grip was too strong; his leg snapped, and bent in reverse as he was pulled under.
Before passing out, he felt its razor-like teeth sinking into his legs.