101 Psychos

#34 - Sleepwalker

Psycho #34 - Sleepwalker -

-

A Tale of Somnambulism and Night Terrors -

Somnambulism refers to the act of sleepwalking. Anxiety and fatigue are often linked to this sleep disorder.

Night Terrors refer to nightmares so vivid and real, the sleeping individual may scream, thrash, and even harm those near them in their unconscious state. All attempts to console the individual are futile and may prolong or intensify their confused state. Usually the victim experiences amnesia after the event but it may not be complete amnesia, as they most likely will remember dream fragments.

-

I'm not an insomniac. I wish I was, but I'm not. Sleep is my curse, my nightmares haunt me even when I'm awake.

I fell asleep last night, right here on this couch with a bottle of Jim in my hand. The dream I had didn't belong to a sane man. I don't remember everything, a lot of it is hazy, but I can recall enough.

It was dark, the streets glistened from a recent rainfall. I could feel the moisture in the cool air as it filled my lungs; refreshing. There was a man, walking ahead of me a few blocks. He never looked back to see me, and so I followed him.

I didn't think about why, it was only a dream.

I heard the clank of a metal gate as he bound through a well manicured lawn and up to the house. I remember stopping in front of the dwelling, watching the two story structure. The building felt alive and menacing, its dark form casting wicked shadows into the night.

I don't recall entering the home or even making the decision. It's all blurry, like when you've drank too much alcohol. I remember hearing laughter and the clanking of glasses. The lights were bright and bounced off the pastel colors adorning the place.

There was a staircase.

I climbed to the top and my eyes relaxed in the dark of upstairs. I found myself face to face with three white doors. It felt significant, as if it were a pivotal moment. Silently I stood there, the world around swaying while I made a decision.

I went straight ahead, to the middle door, and opened it.

There were two small beds inside, the floor littered with toys. It was a miracle I made it through the room without disturbing its inhabitants. I stood between the childrens beds, looking between the young girls laying sound asleep.

At first the small faces seemed innocent, but the more I watched them the more clearly I could see the demons within. The evil grew stronger as the girls faces contorted. The monsters their bodies harbored were coming to the surface; weren't they?

I didn't know, it had to be a dream.

I strangled the smallest of the two. My hands wrapped around her dainty neck, and I clenched my fists, squeezing her fragile throat shut. She didn't have time to thrash enough to wake the demon sister, and so I strangled her too. As the oldest ones life faded, I watched the demon inside try to escape through the skin and attack me. It died along with the girl.

It was only a dream, right?

I don't know where the knife came from, I only remember the ever repeating thought. "Kill the demon parents" ran through my unconscious mind over and over again.

I don't remember much. I remember the pastels and bright lights burning my eyes. Laughter was replaced by screams, and the dark crimson water covered the pastels quickly.

I remember a womans face, contorted in fear while another, more monstrous face, tried to escape from her open, wailing jaws. I watched the gray, wrinkled thing try to pull it's way from her mouth, hell bent on killing me.

I didn't have a choice right? It was only a dream.

I don't remember killing anyone else, but I remember the aftermath. The red was splattered across the bright walls and draperies, pooling on the carpet, and staining the furniture. The entire living space suddenly looked like a butcher shop. Three paling corpses laid on the ground, terror permanently etched into their features. I walked out the front door, and then I woke up.

Another nightmare, I thought as I sat up this morning, still on the couch. It wasn't until I reached for the Jim sitting on the coffee table that I became fearful of my dream.

Like so many times before, my hands were crusted over with dried blood, clear up to my elbows. My clothes were thickly saturated too. Next to the nearly empty bottle laid a kitchen knife, its sharp, metal gray blade also crusted over with a layer of red.

Now I'm freshly showered and dressed, drinking coffee with shaky hands. The news is on, and I'm staring intently at the TV screen, hoping for the best. Just as I dreaded, a young couple with two children were murdered last night. Apparently they had a friend from out of town staying over too.

My heart sinks as the young wife's picture flashes across the screen. It's the same one from my nightmare, screaming up at me while a demon tried escaping. I bring the coffee cup to my lips and suck it dry of contents quickly.

It was only a dream, wasn't it?

-

What did you think of Psycho #34? All comments, critiques, thoughts, & reactions are welcomed!

Like my work? Support it at: www.patreon.com/LullaDIEs

Please, don't forget to vote! It's very encouraging.

There's still 67 Psychos to go!