Dreams that Kill

Kiseki Hashimoto

Aka Hatoba

April 12, 2020

Dreams that Kill

You wake up from a dream. As you look at the alarm clock on your desk, you realize that it is 4 am. Taking note that you have to wake up in 2 hours, you debate whether or not to start your day early. After a couple of minutes, you decide that you might as well take a long shower and have breakfast.

What's this? You find that you can't move. Sleep paralysis. This has happened to you before. You take as deep a breath that you can manage and try to relax. If you tensed up, things you didn't want to see would appear.

Ah, why did you think that? Of course, there is now something moving. Out of the corner of your eye, a shadow passes by. You watch quietly as the white, pale, bony figure, with black hair crawls on top of you. Your fear intensifies, your breath shaking, your heart pounding.

You think, "This is all because of paralysis. I have nothing to fear... Right?" But... What is this feeling? You sense that perhaps this - thing - is real. You can feel its heaviness on your chest. Its cold breath that reeks of death and decay raking across your skin. Worst of all, you can feel its penetrating gaze. Those bloodshot eyes bearing down on you, searching your soul at its deepest depths. "No, no. My dreams have always been hyper-realistic. Why shouldn't my hallucinations be any different? I'm fine. I'm fine," you think, attempting to reassure yourself.

You can think of nothing, nothing at all to do or say. You lay there, the creature staring at you, examining you as if it's determining whether or not you're worthy of killing.

Finally, the creature raises its hand, long and slender with fingers sharp as knives. You wince, bracing for whatever is about to happen. The hand comes up, then down in a full swing. You shut your eyes, hoping that this truly is a hallucination.

Silence.

Then, you hear your alarm go off. You open your eyes slowly. Nothing. You carefully sit up. Your body aches and creaks, your wrist popping when you lean on it. After turning the alarm off, you sit and wonder, "What the hell did I just dream?"

Eventually, you stand up and walk to the bathroom. Everything is fine until you notice three fine, scabbing lines across your cheek. Odd, it almost looks like claw marks, but they're too fine to belong to an animal. You can think of nothing that could cause that type of injury. Did you scratch yourself when you slept?