The alarm clock's piercing cry shattered the predawn silence, a mechanical wail that marked the boundary between dreams and waking life. I reached over, silencing it with a practiced slap, and lay back, staring at the ceiling as I collected my thoughts. The dreams had come again. They always did. Every morning, I grappled with the same question: Why? Why me, and why this relentless intrusion into my subconscious?
That's when I i noticed it was still dark. Why had my alarm gone off? I peer over at the alarm i just hit to check the time 0243. 'What The Fuck?' i think to myself aloud, my voice a broken garbage disposal spoon still stuck. I scan the room left to right and make a mental check list.
Bathroom door check, wall wall wall, closet, dresser, bedroom door.. Ajar? "I never do that" again out loud as i get up to close the door. Closed!
I turned back to bed, my pulse a war drum in the silence. Sleep tugged at me, heavy and insistent, pulling me back under its spell.
Darkness closed in, in my peripheral, soon I had tunnel vision. The shadows thickened, drawing together to form an ominous shape. The demon stood at my bedside, towering and terrible. Eight feet of darkness wrapped in a coat that swallowed the light, topped with a hat that hid all but those piercing yellow eyes.
It smiled, a sinister curve that twisted the air around it.
The night stretched on, silent and watchful, until suddenly it was there—at my ear, its presence a ghastly weight.
"Remember," it whispered, a promise that curled through the darkness, leaving me frozen even in sleep.