SLEEP CLINIC

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Prologue:

They always wake up screaming.

Dr. Halvorsen sat in the observation room, pen poised above his clipboard, but he hadn't written anything in twenty minutes. On the monitor, the patient's vitals danced-pulse erratic, brainwaves spiking, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. All normal for Night 4.

Room 3's camera flickered.

He leaned closer. The subject-a teenage girl named Lila-twitched under the sheets, her eyes rolling behind her lids like something was watching her from inside. Then her mouth opened. Wide. Too wide.

No sound came out.

The lights above her bed dimmed without warning.

Dr. Halvorsen straightened in his seat, his hand tightening around the pen. The screen darkened-static bled across it like frost on glass-then cleared. She was sitting upright now, staring directly into the camera.

But her eyes were still closed.

He fumbled for the intercom. "Lila? You're dreaming. You're safe. Wake up."

Her lips moved. Not her voice.

"You're not watching me. I'm watching you."

Every monitor in the room went black.

Behind him, a faint breath stirred the air.

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