Anatidaephobia: a pervasive, irrational fear that one is being watched by a duck...

Darkness swirled around Luke, pulling, prodding, grabbing at his body and mind. The silence was suddenly deafening, waking him up in the black of night. His room had no light source, he had told the professor that he wasn't a kid anymore, he didn't need a night-light!

But…

His room felt foreign in the inky dark, twisted like some sort of parallel universe. Where his reading chair was, the shadows replaced it with a portly man, staring into his bed. Where his desk was once a place of respite and creativity, a jagged monster had appeared, sharp and twisted by dark. Even his teddy bear took on a transformation of untrustworthiness, appearing to be nothing more than an evil doppelganger of his once old fluffy friend.

A shuffling. A clatter. What was that noise at this time of night? An intruder? Or maybe it was just the professor? Yes, it must be the professor! An apprentice must be ready at any time, night or day, to aid his teacher!

Truth be told, however, Luke only wanted to escape his dark bedroom.

Heart pounding, the boy tossed the sheets off his person in an attempt to distract any would-be monsters. His feet dashed clumsily across the carpet, fearing the dark might grab him and take him under.

Oh, why was it so frightening tonight?!

He nearly slammed the door behind him, praying that would keep the monsters at bay.

Clatter. Shuffle shuffle. Scritch scratch.

The noises were coming from the kitchen, but the light wasn't on. Why? Luke's heart was pounding inside his skull, his mind raced. The professor taught him to be brave though! There must be a reasonable and mundane explanation for the noise, right?

Invisible hands touched and startled Luke, but when he turned around, he found no one to be there, nothing but a trick of the mind.

Ah, but just because it isn't real, doesn't mean it can't hurt you, my boy.

Why did Luke think that?! Why would Luke hear that in Layton's voice no less? While the professor might have never said that, it sounded so real, so logical! Just because it was a figment of his imagination, it didn't make it any less scary, didn't make the monsters he saw any less real.

It didn't matter now! Just ignore it! Find the professor at all costs! With a mad dash, he made it at the kitchen's entrance, the tile ice cold on his bare feet. Luke fumbled for the light switch, flicking it uselessly, desperately. The electricity seemed to be out! And on a night like this…

The shuffling was louder now, directly in front of him. The shadows truly were moving this time; it wasn't just in his head! A tall figure scrounged through the cabinets, tossing aside food items and pots and pans, looking for something hungrily.

Even in the dark, Luke could recognize that hat anywhere!

"P-professor!" Luke stuttered out, his frazzled mind finally calming down at the sight of his teacher and friend. "What are you doing up so late in the dark?"

That moment of respite and relief was short lived. Layton didn't reply. His shadowy form kept seemingly teleporting throughout the kitchen, shuffling and reaching in the dark, searching. Searching.

"Professor?..." Luke called out, his voice barely above a whisper. It was all he could manage.

The shadow stopped. It was rigid, frozen, seemed almost mechanical. Like a doll even. In one swift movement, Professor Layton faced Luke, a costume duckbill over his mouth and white face paint around his eyes. "Quack," he said.

Luke burst out laughing, but it was a nervous and frightened laughter, as if a mad spirit had dived into his body and tangled his emotions. "O-oh, professor! Y-you're just joking around, aren't you?"

Layton's beady little eyes somehow shone bright in the darkness. The white face paint merely drew attention to the fact that those eyes of his were always so different, so strange, so otherworldly.

"Where is the bread," Layton asked, his voice toneless and humorless. It sounded less like a question and more like a demand.

This was starting to scare Luke. Was this man before him even Layton anymore? His head twitched, but those eyes, those eyes! They stabbed through the darkness, ripped the black flesh of night and left it bleeding.

"Y-you are just joking, right?" Luke finally asked, but he knew the answer already. Whoever this was, it wasn't Layton, even if it looked and sounded just like him.

The shadow stepped closer, his fingers stretching to impossible lengths in the dark. Luke shut his eyes tight, but Layton's eyes still gazed through and wouldn't let him escape.

"I asked you a fucking question."

The monster reached out with its enormous claws, grasping Luke's frail little body. It screamed and hissed in his ears, it forced his eyes open, forced him to stare back into those dark spheres. It constricted its cold claws around his ribcage, crushing Luke with a brutal force. He gasped for air but found none.

Luke jolted out of bed, covered in sweat, his blankets in a tangled mess around his body. Gasping and heaving, he looked this way and that. Morning light streamed in through the windows.

But the hissing! The screeching!

Luke recognized it now to be nothing more than the teapot in the kitchen.

Memories of his nightmare still fresh in his mind, Luke scrambled out of his blankets and scampered out of his room, eager to forget.

Kitchen in sight, Luke found Professor Layton calmly pouring a soothing cup of hot tea for himself. "Ah, Luke, my boy, there you are!" he said cheerfully. "Up bright and early today?"

The gentlemanly tone soothed Luke's frazzled nerves. "Oh, Professor! I had the worst nightmare!"

"Now, now, Luke," Layton interrupted, albeit politely. "It's best not to dwell on such things."

Oh, he was so right! Best to forget such things. It wasn't real after all! Imaginary things can't hurt you!

Ah, but just because it isn't real, doesn't mean it can't hurt you, my boy.

The memory haunted him, the voice suddenly there again.

"Come join me for tea, my boy," Layton offered, motioning to a quaint tea cup. "I seem to be in quite the puzzle."

Luke knew what he was going to say before he said it, but he still asked anyway. "What do you mean, professor?"

Layton placed a hand on his chin, brows furrowed in thought. "I bought bread the other day, but now it seems to be missing. Strangest thing. You wouldn't happen to know where the bread is, would you, Luke?"

The shadow's eyes pierced Luke's mind again. He would always be sure to be stocked up on bread from that moment on.