Parents tell the worst lies. 'There aren't any monsters. Not really.' Then they get dragged under the bed and blood sprays all over your floor and you're left alone in the dark with something munching on the dead meat that only moments ago was your ma or pa.
That's how I got started in this business. Lost my ma to a grue with a predilection for lurking beneath little kid's beds. It liked to use kids as bait. Sick damned thing.
Felt good when I finally figured out how to hurt it.
Now I get paid good money to go in quietly. Not wake the little ones. Make the monsters that aren't supposed to be real go away and get out before anyone is the wiser.
I'm not sure which of us is worse...
Them for lying to their precious darlings. Or me. For helping them perpetuate their lies.