Estimated reading time — 3 minutes
It was about midnight when I finally passed out. I had been working my ass off on writing an article about some metal patient saying his dreams are becoming real. Crazy bastard. Either way, I needed sleep. I did my regular nightly routine. I brushed my teeth, changed into an old t-shirt and boxers, crawled under the covers, and fell asleep listening to the sound of the city streets. All was well, or so I thought.
At around three I was awoken to an odd sound. It sounded like something was dripping out onto the carpet in the living room. Typical shitty hotel plumbing, I though. I got out of the bed to assess the problem. It was pitch dark, so I hit the lights. It immediately seemed like I was on the surface of the sun. I instinctively closed my eyes and reached out for something. I reached out and drabbed what seemed to be someone’s shoulder. My eyes burst open to see a pale, grinning face with the word “SMILE” carved grimily on its forehead, with a mixture of saliva and blood coming out of a gapping mouth full of long, dirty, sharp teeth.
“AH FUCK!” I shouted. I was about to run away when the thing grabbed my arm. I was paralyzed. I felt its cold grib engulf my entire body.
“Going somewhere?” it said in a two toned, demonic voice. That’s when I snapped out of my trance. I broke away from its grip and began running. I made it though my hotel door alright, but as I neared the front door, I felt an intense pain run down my back. I looked over my shoulder to see the thing’s nails covered in fresh blood. My fresh blood. This didn’t stop me though. I kept running toward the door. I ran outside into the loud, busy streets of New York. I started screaming for help, but it seemed like no one was looking at me. No one even seemed to recognize I was there. As I was begging and screaming for help, I felt the thing grab me again. He spun me around and plunged his nails into my stomach. I fell. The last thing I saw was the thing laughing hysterically at my dying. As I fell into an abyss of darkness, my eyes suddenly burst open. I was in a hospital bed. It was morning. I could hear a heart monitor beeping along with my pulse. I was alive. It was all a dream. A twisted, twisted dream. The doctor was standing there when I woke up.
“Oh good you’re awake!” he said.
“Where- where the hell am I?”
“You’re in Bellevue hospital, we found you running around outside of your hotel screaming for help. Someone called the police and they took you here. We thought you were on drugs at first, but we ran a test, you seem to be clean. We figure you must have had some very vivid nightmare and began sleepwalking.”
At first I was confused, but then remembering the dream, it all made sense.
“Oh, well that’s a relief.” I said
“Quite indeed, you seemed to be having an extremely terrifying nightmare. Either way, you safe now. If you need anything just call and the nurse will be right with you.”
The doctor was getting ready to leave, but then I found something strange about this whole thing.
“Wait, if I was just sleepwalking, then why the hell am I in a hospital?” I asked.
“Oh yes, when the police found you, you were passed out. They thought you had overdosed. But when they picked you up, they saw blood along your back and stomach. Somehow you managed to get three cuts all the way down your back and a deep puncture into your stomach. Don’t worry though, we stitched you up and you should be out of bed in no time. Anything else I can answer?”
I was speechless. The doctor left. Everything went silent it seemed like; accept for the patient next door to me. He seemed to be laughing hysterically.
Credit: Tony Spampinato