Night Frights

I jerked awake from a bad dream and looked groggily at the digital clock on my nightstand. The bright red letters read 1:16 a.m. Experience told me I would not capture sleep again, so I shambled into the kitchen and started some coffee. I then made my usual rounds through the apartment, making sure all the closet doors were closed securely, and nothing lingered under the beds.
Satisfied that nothing was amiss, I parked myself in front of my computer and switched on the power. Invisible parts whirred into motion in the early morning silence.
Something moved in my closet. I was sure of it, as I heard the distinct sound of a hanger sliding across the metal rod supporting most of my shirts and other attire. This closet is wide, with two folding doors - I slowly approached them, listening for anything else out of the ordinary, or perhaps just acknowledgement that what I had heard was something quite normal and easily justified.
Instead, I heard a slight rustling of clothing. Fear urged a quickening heart, a racing pulse. I most surely did not want to open the closet doors, but what was the alternative? To merely sit and wait for grotesque beast to emerge hungry from its chosen tomb seemed more a consequence than taking action. Besides, how could anything possibly be in the closet? I had checked the locks on the doors and windows only hours earlier.
I readied myself in front of the closet doors and grasped the two small knobs on either side; I would yank them open simultaneously and surprise whatever was hiding inside, waiting for me. With a deep breathe, I pulled open the doors, and immediately saw a dark gap between clothing that had been spread apart. Within the gap, the outline of a face, two bulging eyes glaring at me hatefully, frozen in a mannequin-like state.
I jumped back, nearly tripping over my own feet, and rushed to the other side of the room. I dared another look, and saw nothing. I heard only the quiet hum of the computer. For several minutes I stood indecisive, yet fully aware that I would have to again investigate.
As I moved past the bed, I imagined an arm reaching out, a large, hairy hand grasping my ankle; the thing under the bed would surely pull me under for whatever ghastly purpose. Apparently, that particular creature was not at home, for I passed safely to the closet, which was now yawning wide open.
I dared an arm inside and slowly slid clothing back and forth - in the end, my efforts revealed nothing. Releaved, but still harboring a racing heart, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring into the darkness of the closet. What strange thing had taken up space inside, and for what reason had it chosen me?
I finally came to a conclusion - once the thing saw me, it must have realized it had chosen the wrong person altogether. The real intended victim was you.
Take your time. It will wait. Simply work your way to the closet and try to get a jump on the thing. And I shall try to imagine the look on your face when you first lay eyes on the thing in your closet...