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Milo didn’t believe in monsters.
He didn’t believe in ghosts, witches, trolls, or living skeletons either.
And he definitely didn’t believe in the black door behind the school.
“It only appears on Halloween,” Lucy had said during recess.
“Of course it does,” Milo had replied.
“It’s true,” said Ben. “My big brother has seen it.”
“Your big brother also says he once ate thirty-four pancakes.”
“He did!”
“Exactly.”
But now Milo was standing behind the school anyway.
It was Halloween night, and the sky had grown completely dark. The wind sent the last orange leaves rustling across the pavement.
On the other side of the schoolyard, Milo could hear children shouting and laughing.
“Trick or treat!”
Milo swept his flashlight along the old wall.
Bricks.
Bricks.
More bricks.
“I knew it,” he muttered.
Then the beam stopped.
Milo swallowed.
There was a door.
Right in the middle of the wall was a small black door that he was absolutely certain had not been there earlier that day.
It was old and crooked. Instead of an ordinary handle, it had a black iron head with horns and a huge open mouth.
Milo stepped closer.
“Very funny.”
No one answered.
“Lucy?”
Still nothing.
He bent down.
Something was lying in front of the door.
A piece of candy.
It was wrapped in orange paper.
Beside it lay a small folded note.
Milo picked it up.
There was only one word written on it.
HELP!
Milo looked around.
“Okay, Ben. You can come out now.”
Then a branch snapped behind him.
Milo spun around.
Still no one.
When he turned back toward the door, it was slightly open.
A cold wind seeped through the crack.
Milo knew exactly what he should do.
He should go home.
But if there was one thing Milo couldn’t stand, it was a mystery he didn’t know the answer to.
He grabbed the ice-cold handle and opened the door.
On the other side was a forest.
Milo blinked a few times.
That made no sense.
The wall wasn’t even half a meter thick, yet beyond the door, a winding path continued between black trees as far as he could see.
Tiny blue lights floated among the branches, and far in the distance stood a crooked tower beneath an enormous yellow moon.
Something moved behind a tree.
He pointed his flashlight at it.
A small furry creature slowly stepped into view.
It wasn’t any taller than Milo’s knee. Two enormous ears stuck out from its reddish-brown fur, and a pair of amber eyes stared at him.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other.
Then they both screamed.
The little creature hid behind the tree while Milo almost fell backward through the door.
A moment later, the creature peeked out again.
It turned out his name was Fuzz.
And Fuzz was a creature.
Not a monster, he explained. “Monster” sounded far too terrifying.
He was also the owner of the caramel candy in front of the door. He had dropped it when he left the note.
Fuzz popped the caramel into his mouth without removing the wrapper.
Milo decided not to ask why.
Instead, he asked where the door led.
Fuzz looked at him seriously.
“To the Land of the Forgotten Creatures.”
Milo found that difficult to believe.
Then again, there was a small furry creature standing in front of him eating a caramel with the wrapper still on.
So he stepped through the door.
The path led through the forest to a town.
And it was the strangest town Milo had ever seen.
One house stood on long, thin legs and moved a few meters away whenever anyone came near it.
Another was built from old suitcases.
Green smoke rose from a chimney and formed tiny faces in the air before disappearing.
But the strangest thing was the people who lived there.
A skeleton was sweeping leaves outside a shop.
Three witches stood arguing beside their broomsticks.
A huge troll sat on a bench feeding a flock of bats.
A ghost floated straight through a closed door and politely tipped his hat as he passed Milo.
Every creature Milo had always been told didn’t exist was here.
But something was wrong.
An old witch walked toward them. As she passed Milo, he noticed he could see straight through one of her arms.
Farther ahead stood a house with an entire side missing.
It hadn’t collapsed.
It was simply gone.
Fuzz explained that their world was slowly disappearing.
Once, people had told stories about them. Stories about witches, trolls, ghosts, and strange creatures hiding in the darkness.
Children had drawn them and imagined what they looked like.
They might even have been just a tiny bit afraid of them.
But over time, many of the stories had been forgotten.
And when no one remembered a creature anymore, it began to disappear.
First its name vanished.
Then its story.
And finally, the creature itself.
Milo looked at the transparent witch again.
Now he understood why Fuzz had written the note.
But Fuzz shook his head.
That wasn’t why.
Something much worse had happened.
The Dreadling was gone.
The Dreadling was the oldest creature in their entire world.
No one could remember exactly where he had come from anymore. Some said he had horns. Others said he had a hundred teeth.
But everyone agreed on one thing.
He was enormous.
And now the Dreadling had gone through the black door.
Into Milo’s world.
Milo and Fuzz hurried back through the forest.
When they reached the door, the schoolyard was empty.
Fuzz explained that the door would close at exactly midnight.
If the Dreadling was still in the human world when that happened, this time the door would disappear forever.
A clock began to chime somewhere in the town.
Eleven times.
They had one hour.
Fuzz lifted his nose and sniffed.
He could smell the Dreadling.
Apparently, the oldest creature in the world smelled like a damp basement.
They followed the trail away from the school and between the houses.
Halloween was everywhere.
Pumpkins glowed outside front doors. Plastic ghosts hung from trees, and enormous fake spiders crawled up the sides of houses.
Fuzz studied the decorations with great interest.
He seemed particularly unimpressed by the plastic ghosts.
Then he suddenly stopped.
BOOM.
A deep sound came from somewhere in the darkness.
The ground trembled slightly.
BOOM.
This time, the sound was closer.
A branch snapped.
Milo pointed his flashlight down the street.
Something enormous moved between the houses.
A black shape passed through the beam and disappeared around a corner.
It was the Dreadling.
Milo and Fuzz followed.
The trail led to a small playground.
The swings moved slowly in the wind.
Creak.
Creak.
Creak.
Milo swept his flashlight across the slide.
Nothing.
Then across the sandbox.
Nothing there either.
Finally, the beam reached the large climbing frame.
Two eyes opened in the darkness.
They were almost three meters above the ground.
An enormous figure stood up.
First came the horns.
Then the broad shoulders.
Then two gigantic arms.
The Dreadling stepped forward.
His fur was as black as night, and huge horns curved backward from his head.
Then he opened his mouth.
Milo could see rows of sharp teeth.
Maybe Fuzz hadn’t been exaggerating about the hundred teeth after all.
The Dreadling roared.
Milo froze.
But then something strange happened.
The enormous creature didn’t come toward them.
He turned around.
And ran.
They found him behind an old shed.
The oldest and most terrifying creature in the world had tried to hide his enormous body between two garbage bins.
It wasn’t working very well.
Milo carefully stepped closer.
The Dreadling covered his face with his gigantic hands.
“Go away.”
His voice was so deep that the lids on the garbage bins rattled.
Milo had expected a terrifying monster.
Not a creature hiding from him.
And certainly not what he discovered a moment later.
The Dreadling was crying.
An enormous tear rolled down through his black fur.
“They’re forgetting me,” he said.
That was why he had run away.
The Dreadling could feel his own story beginning to disappear.
Once, people had told stories about him. Children had imagined him in the darkness and drawn pictures of what they thought he looked like.
But now the Dreadling couldn’t even remember his own story.
He was afraid that if he went back through the door, one day he would disappear along with the rest of the Land of the Forgotten Creatures.
Milo didn’t know what to say.
Then he thought of something.
He took out his phone.
The Dreadling eyed the little screen suspiciously.
Milo took a picture.
In the photo stood an enormous black creature with horns and a mouthful of teeth, squeezed between two garbage bins.
The Dreadling didn’t think the picture looked particularly impressive.
But Milo smiled.
He had an idea.
The Dreadling didn’t need to stay in the human world to be remembered.
Milo could tell his story.
He could tell people about Fuzz.
About the strange town.
About the witches, trolls, and ghosts.
About all the forgotten creatures.
As long as someone kept telling their stories, they weren’t forgotten.
The Dreadling looked at Milo for a long time.
Then he stood up.
It was time to go home.
They hurried back toward the school.
When they reached the old wall, the black door had already begun to turn transparent.
There were only a few minutes left.
Fuzz jumped through the doorway.
The Dreadling stopped.
He looked back toward the town.
Farther down the street, children were still running from house to house in their Halloween costumes.
Some were dressed as witches.
Others as ghosts.
A small child ran past wearing an enormous furry monster costume.
The Dreadling smiled.
Maybe the creatures weren’t completely forgotten after all.
Then he bent down and stepped through the door.
Milo followed him.
At that exact moment, the clock began to strike twelve.
DONG.
The black door began to fade.
Milo knew he had to go back.
He looked at Fuzz.
“Will I see you again?”
Fuzz smiled.
“Next Halloween.”
Milo stepped through the door.
It closed behind him.
When the final chime faded away, he was standing alone in front of the old wall again.
The door was gone.
Only the bricks remained.
Then Milo noticed something by his feet.
A caramel in an orange wrapper.
He picked it up and smiled.
This time, he remembered to take off the wrapper.
The next day, Milo began to write.
He wrote about Fuzz.
About the strange town.
About the witches, trolls, and ghosts.
And, of course, about the Dreadling.
He told the story to his friends.
Then to the rest of his class.
Soon, the other children began making up stories of their own.
They drew creatures and gave them names.
Some drew enormous monsters with horns.
Others drew tiny ghosts or witches flying on broomsticks.
And far away, on the other side of a door no one could see, something happened.
A house that had almost disappeared slowly came back.
A transparent witch could see her hand again.
An old ghost suddenly remembered his own name.
And the Dreadling?
He didn’t disappear.
Quite the opposite.
He had become clearer than he had been in a very long time.
A whole year passed.
Then Halloween came again.
On October 31st, Milo hurried behind the school.
He switched on his flashlight and swept it across the wall.
Bricks.
Bricks.
Bricks.
Then the beam stopped.
The black door was back.
In front of it lay a small note.
Milo picked it up.
Last year, it had said:
HELP!
This time, it said:
WE MISSED YOU.
Milo smiled.
Then he grabbed the black handle.
And opened the door.
