Sleep Tight|| Phan

Prologue

Sleep deprived and stressed, Phil Lester lay still and silent, paralyzed with fear and regret as his bedroom door slowly creaked open. He heard the latch on his window unfasten with a clink and his wardrobe door click and sway menacingly. He watched in trepidation as a withered, gnarly hand, with talons for fingernails fastened its grip around the edge of the door followed by blood-curdling chuckle. A sudden weight on his chest provoked his heart to palpitate at an alarming rate. The weight shifted further upwards until he felt ice cold, cadaverous fingertips resting on his shoulders, almost piercing his delicate skin. A sinister hooded figure, eerily lacking facial features lurked over him, it's tepid, nauseating breath sweeping past his ear and wafting small strands of his jet black hair. The hair on the back of his neck stood precariously on end as he shivered violently, yet, still unable to move under this unpredictable, dominant force.

They had come for him.

Aggravated, the figure hissed and brought its claw to rest torturously on Phil's cheekbone before slowly scraping it down his pain stricken face, tearing at his sensitive skin. Phil whimpered impotently, willing it to end, his shaky breathing keeping the room from complete silence. The figure released its grip but brought its index finger to Phil's chapped and sore lips, causing the chattering of his teeth to subside slightly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Phil noticed another shadow emerging from underneath his bed. It hideously transmogrified in to fears from the past, fears and memories he did not want to relive, people who he despised and usually stayed tucked away at the back of his mind where they belonged.

Anger, resent and pure hatred surged Phil's mind as he finally regained feeling and power, yelling out in to the darkness as he woke with a start, recoiling from the bedsheets and lunging towards the light switch in terror. The brightness stunned his tired eyes as he forced them open in paranoia, to check nothing was going to hurt him. Trembling, he stumbled over to the wardrobe and hauled open the door. Despite it being completely empty, Phil began yanking clothes off their hangers in case anything lurked behind. He continued violently throwing his belongings on the floor before he collapsed in a fit of sobs, overwhelmed by fear and desolation.

He thought he was used to this by now, it was a regular occurrence. The doctor had told him it was a simple case of Sleep Paralysis and doubted the fact it would happen again. That was two years ago and since then, his visions had grown increasingly severe. Of course nobody believed him when he talked about the 'shadow people'. Phil had always been known for his vivid imagination. Such a happy soul yet, he was crumbling inside.

Things had changed when his father died a few years back, which caused him enough trauma as it was. Constantly having to tend to his grieving mother or his disconsolate and depressed brother. Two years on and the family had seemed to have moved on to some extent until now when Phil had just finished university. The stress and anxiety of having nothing to keep his mind occupied had led to this. Nights of endless horror and reminiscing.

Phil sank back against the wall of his room, in his flat where he lived alone. He didn't have many friends, only one or two who had drifted apart now that school was finished. So there he was at five am, curled up on his bedroom floor alone and petrified. Exhausted and nauseous, his eyes drifted closed as he fell in to a restless, unconscious state slumped uncomfortably against the side of his wardrobe.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading, I welcome any constructive criticism or comments you wish to add :) I'll be updating every Sunday from now, I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

~Whizz x