Michael Henderson

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A Faceless Horror in the Night

A Night Terror that Took an Unexpected Turn, and a Battle with a Faceless Horror

Photo by Max Kleinen on  Unsplash

This dream is not fictional, it was a dream I had on a Friday, March 9th of this year, 2019.

I fell asleep around 7 pm.

My family had come over to play games and hang out, and I hadn’t the energy to greet them. I retired to my bed.

Before long, I discovered that I had slipped into the darkest of nightmares.

Not merely an uncomfortable dream, which for me isn't that uncommon.

In such uncomfortable dreams, I tend to be perpetually running away from a threat, or in others I find myself stumbling upon a disturbing scene.

But this dream was unique from any other nightmare.

It was a kind of dream that’s much rarer, for me personally. It’s best described and is commonly understood as being a “night terror.”

There are two characteristics that set this type of dream apart from others.

First, the line that separates the real world from the dream world becomes blurry. People who experience night terrors often report their dream taking place in what appears to be their actual room or bed. For me, it’s no different.

The second, more striking characteristic of the night terror is the switch.

I call it the switch, anyway. It’s a sudden transition, similar to the flicking of a light switch. This unanticipated change takes what would be a normal dream and hurls it into an unbearable state.

It’s as intense as a seizure, a violent surprise. Overwhelming horror obliterates all other aspects of the dream besides the terror. The dreamscape is flooded, gravity pins down every component of the dream, locking it in place, unable to move or escape.

Terror defines the emotional atmosphere of such a dream. The courage of the dreamer withers, he becomes like one suddenly lost in a cave, hopeless, forever hidden from the light of day.

Before the Switch

Before the switch the dream had begun quite normally.

I had awoken and was lying in bed. I looked up to see that my brother Daniel was sitting by my feet. I had no ill feelings towards him, I asked him what he was doing there. He didn’t reply.

Something was off about Daniel, something was seriously off.

He was slumped forward, not moving, slouched in a comatose state. Finally, I reached forward to touch his left shoulder.

The switch fired.

My world dropped from under me. A blanket of dread surrounded me, I was paralyzed.

“Daniel” turned to face me. I realized, horribly, that I had been deceived. It was not Daniel that sat before me. The creature had the body of my brother, yes, but its face was far from human.

A round, vile head jutted out from my brother’s shoulders. Its face was concealed behind a black ski mask. It had no visible eyes or mouth, only gaping holes, sunken into its head. Death filled the air before it’s horrid gaze. My body wilted.

In a flash, I became familiar with the situation. I had had these dreams before, these masked creatures, gaping, laughing, reaching out to touch me. I had seen them before, and had similar dreams besides (always characterized by the switch, that paralyzing flood of panic).

This time, I decided to fight back, though I didn’t know how. I could have awoken, but I was too angry to let go.

Deciding to fight was a split-second decision, the creature was staring back at me, overpowering my senses. My standard response would be to awaken and consider the dream from a safe distance. This time, strangely, I decided to engage the monster within the bounds of the dream world, on its turf.

Though my body was arrested, which is typical of a night terror, I fought with all my strength to show the masked creature that I was not afraid. The intensity of the dream washed over my body like a roaring river, forcing me down. I resisted, lunging forward at the creature, which somehow looked surprised.

I wrapped my hands around its neck and began to yell in its face. “F*ck you, F*ck! You!” I could barely hear myself over the roar of the dream. Though I was mostly paralyzed, I threw the creature to the floor and pinned it to the ground. I intended to destroy it, but I had no idea how.

I woke suddenly, grasping at my sheets. I was still in a rage, I was jealous of the creature’s power over me. Dripping with sweat I continued to wrangle my bedsheets. But only for a moment or two.

I finally realized I was awake and reached for my bedside lamp. I wanted to make sure I had fully emerged out of the dream world. The light turned on but there was no creature to be seen.

It was around midnight. I thought of my brother and wondered if he knew something about the dream. It had been so intense, I was sure he would have somehow felt it, or awakened in the night, unaware but disturbed.

I checked his room and the light was off. I wanted to speak with him, but I thought better of it, he must be sleeping, I thought.

I told him about my dream the next day, he was as surprised as I was at the role he played in it.

End.

p.s. If you liked this story and would enjoy reading similar ones, let me know by leaving a response or liking the story, I enjoy writing this genre of horror and would like to write more if you would like to read. I have plenty more dreams to record, reflect on, or base fiction off of.