Through The Eyes of Our Horror

Chapter Ten: The System

Every night for as long as he could remember, Carson had insomnia that kept him from sleep without it being from complete and utter exhaustion. No sleeping drug put him out, and if it did he felt nauseous the next morning. Bottles upon bottles were dumped into the toilet within a week of being filled. He couldn't stop thinking about what his psychiatrist said. How the longer he stayed awake, the more he was killing his brain. 

It couldn't have been true. How could a simple lack of sleep kill him? It was unfathomable. He sat up in his bed with a laptop and several browser tabs open. One chat room, and various pages of explicit imagery and videos. It wasn't like he planned on staying on those sites, they merely appealed to his morbid curiosity. 

Staring up at the Webcam on the top of his laptop screen, he sighed. Then there was an alert on the chat room that someone had actually chosen to privately message him. Switching tabs, his jaw dropped at the message that displayed in front of him. 

[The blue you painted your walls in really brings everything together.]

Carson's brows knit together in confusion, but he shook it off as a coincidence. 

[Hahaha. Very funny.]

[No, really, it's nice. Though, you should really move your bed away from the window. Creeps can look in and have a nice look at you while you sleep.]

[Um...okay. Well I gotta go. Bye.] 

Closing the tab, he shut his laptop and walked over to the window. It was open, as per usual, but he peered outside with a sudden nervousness. Closing the window, he shut the blinds, and returned to his desk. He tucked his legs up on the chair, and pressed his knuckles against his lips as he stared at the closed laptop. Was it just a weird coincidence? 

His room was set up pretty typically for someone his age, and the window was set in the center of the wall. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. "No, no, you closed the tab. The guy can't get a good look at your room now." But then, his phone rang, causing him to jump damn near out of his skin. It was an unknown number, which caused his blood to run ice cold. 

He waited, and waited, and watched the phone stop its ringing. A shaky breath of relief spilled from his lips, but just as he was beginning to relax, a voicemail popped up in the corner of his phone. He braced himself, then decided to swipe the notification away, and open the app to listen to the voicemail. Staring at the play button, he hesitated, then pressed it. 

"That's unfair. I know you're doing nothing right now. I can see you clear as day just sitting in your room. Call me back. I'd love to keep this conversation going. I don't bite."

Carson felt himself beginning to hyperventilate. This couldn't be happening. There was no way a perfect stranger had his number. He looked around, then got up from his chair to feel around the walls. There had to be cameras somewhere. Anywhere. Even the ones that were supposed to be easy to hide. Those tiny idgits. But he couldn't find a single one. Groaning out in frustration, he placed his fists and forehead against the plaster wall. 

"Sleep. This is just all one big hallucination. Your imagination is messing with you because you need to sleep," He muttered to himself. 

"I'm not a hallucination," A distorted voice, not too dissimilar to the voice he heard on the phone. "You're not very kind to your guests, are you?" The room suddenly felt a lot colder than it was. But maybe that was the cold sweat from adrenaline.

 Then the light went out, and caused him to bolt to his bed. Burying beneath the covers, Carson closed his eyes and backed himself up to the wall. You just need to close your eyes and sleep. That's all. The power is out and you just need to sleep. 

But then, he felt his mattress sinking, as if somebody else was climbing onto his bed with him. His suspicion was confirmed when he heard that voice again, but much closer this time. "No, don't go to bed yet. Who else will I talk to?"

Slowly, Carson poked his head from the blanket, and what he saw caused him to let out a horrified scream. It was a pale white figure, with his eyes blacked out like a picture an angry child scribbled up. He had no mouth aside from a slit on his face, which seemed distorted in nature. He clasped both hands over his mouth, and closed his eyes tight. No, no, no, this wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. 

The horrifying figure tilted his head nearly ninety degrees, his blackened eyes staring unblinkingly at Carson. Carson could feel the stare, even with his eyes so tightly shut. "I am not that ugly, am I?" The figure asked.

Ugly? No. He slowly opened his eyes. Carson's entire body was trembling, and it took everything in him not to scream again. "Wh-what?" He stammered. "No. But your eyes...what happened?" 

The thing looming over him paused thoughtfully. After a moment, he answered softly, "I don't remember. As a matter of fact, I don't remember much but the static. But it's fun to finally find a friend."

Carson stared up at him with a gulp. "Where did you come from?" He shakily asked. The longer he stared at the being, the more his face began to take on a more human-like form. His eyes were slowly changing, appearing less distorted and blacked out, and more like ordinary eyes. 

"That, I have no clue, either. Where do people normally come from? Maybe I was once like you. Maybe I was. Or maybe I'm something else altogether." The more he spoke, the more human he actually looked until he didn't resemble the figure he was before.

"I'm not sure..." He slowly shifted to sit up, while his new friend adjusted with him accordingly. "If I didn't assume I was hallucinating, I'd say maybe you're a ghost." 

"A ghost?" He shook his head. "No, I don't think I am one. I'm pretty sure I'm real, too. But somehow, I also feel like I'm a part of you."

"I don't-...I don't know." He froze. There was the sound of a car parking outside, and as soon as he froze, the figure dissipated, reappearing at the window. Those distorted features once more returned, and the being almost seemed to be in pain. 

"Get away," The figure croaked, his voice sounding as if he was speaking through an old, worn-down radio. "Get away now. Hide. It will only get worse." But before Carson had time to comprehend what he was being told, the figure shifted into something so much more terrifying. It looked as if it had grown twice its size. The slit of a mouth tore open like flesh being torn away. "GO TO BED NOW!" It screeched, lunging towards Carson to wrap its large hands tightly around his throat. The more Carson struggled, the more distorted the figure became, shifting between the large entity, and the one who had once been talking to him. 

He sputtered and choked, wanting to reach up and try to remove the hands. He couldn't move, and his head was growing light and full of hot air. His body began to twinge and convulse, but he was then shaken violently. He was shoved hard against the pillow, and his head was slapped viciously. He then remembered...she had given him sleeping pills-far more than even an adult was allowed to take. 

He was dying. Bright light flooded his vision, and the figure that once looked like him was staring down at him. But it was a child, staring him down. What had he done? "I didn't mean to," Blubbered the figure above him through a deafening static, "I can't sleep!" The figure continued to repeat it like a broken record player. But the words became more and more distorted as Carson's surroundings grew darker and darker and darker. There was nothing now but darkness and the eerie silence that came with it.

The footsteps. "Carson? Honey? Are you awake?" 

He slowly looked around, assuming he was once again alone. But then suddenly, he was face to face with the distortion of a face. Inches from him, staring deeply into his soul. "Run!"