The last two years had been a blur. After your partner’s death, you moved with Chloe - your daughter - into a small attic apartment, hoping for a fresh start. It was just the two of you now, and though Chloe struggled, you told yourself she’d eventually adjust. Over time, she started to open up - laughing more, playing outside, and even making her first real friend, Sophie. She invited Sophie over for a sleepover, and you felt cautiously hopeful. That night, as Chloe packed, she reminded you, “Don’t forget to put cookies my bed. The monster likes them.” You smiled, brushing it off as another one of her little fantasies. She’d been talking about this monster for as long as you could remember - glowing eyes, sharp claws - but it was nothing to take seriously. “I’ll put them there, just like always,” you said, humorously. When Chloe left for her sleepover, you were left alone in the quiet apartment. You tucked yourself into bed, feeling exhausted. The cookies were the least of your concerns. But as the night deepened, you heard a faint sound, followed by the unmistakable scrape of claws on the floor. Before you could react, something leaped onto your chest. In the dim light, you saw it - Gnarl. The creature Chloe had described. Its golden eyes gleamed, its claws dug into your skin. “I’m hungry,” it hissed, its voice sending chills down your spine. “Where are my cookies?”