The Sleep Experiment

Prologue: The Declassified Files

Project HYPNOS Final Report (Redacted) - 1947

*"Subject Group A exhibited remarkable cognitive function at 240 hours without sleep. By 336 hours, all displayed:

Complete elimination of circadian rhythm

Shared dreaming while awake

Spontaneous synchronization of... [REDACTED]

Termination ordered at 720 hours following Incident Δ-K7. All records to be sealed until 2025."*

The file burned my fingers—not from heat, but from the cold leaching through the manila envelope. Inside, five photographs showed men strapped to hospital beds, their eyes wide and unblinking.

The sixth photo was just static.

And something moving inside it.

Chapter 1: The Volunteers

Subject Profiles - Blackwood Research Facility

Daniel Shaw - 28, medical student (insomniac)

Nina Vasquez - 25, nightshift nurse

Mark Reynolds - 30, army Ranger

Priya Patel - 27, neurology PhD candidate

Trevor Mackey - 22, control subject (baseline sleeper)

The $50,000 reward seemed insane for just staying awake. But the waivers we signed were crazier—thick stacks of legalese that basically said "if you die, we burn the body."

Dr. Richter, the lead researcher, tapped his clipboard. *"Remember the rules:

No caffeine after day 10

Report all auditory hallucinations immediately

Never close both eyes at once"*

The gas masks bolted to the walls should’ve been our first warning.

Chapter 2: The Shared Dreams

Experiment Log - Day 14

*"All subjects now reporting identical hallucinations:

'Shadow nurses' checking nonexistent vitals

Smell of burning hair from empty corners

Consensus that 'the walls are breathing'"*

By week two, we stopped needing words.

Nina would shiver, and I’d know she’d seen the thing with too many teeth in the ventilation shaft. Mark would tense, and we’d all taste copper—his tell for when the "night doctors" were pacing outside the observation window.

Then came Day 19.

When Trevor—our well-rested control subject—woke up screaming about "the red room."

Problem?

Trevor hadn’t slept in 19 days.

Chapter 3: The Missing Hour

Security Footage Analysis

"00:00 to 01:00 missing from all cameras nightly since Day 22. Thermal scans show subjects clustered in Room 4 during gaps, though motion sensors detect... [DATA EXPUNGED]"

We called it The Switching Hour.

Every night at midnight, the lights would flicker.

Then we’d wake up an hour later—different positions, new scratches on our arms, and the overwhelming sense we’d been somewhere else.

Priya kept a secret journal in Russian (her parents’ native tongue, which she swore "it" couldn’t read):

"Day 25: Trevor’s eyes no longer reflect light. When he thinks we aren’t looking, his pupils contract vertically."

The next morning, Trevor was gone.

But his pillow was soaked with black fluid.

And the intercom kept playing his voice whispering:

"They let me sleep now."

Chapter 4: The Awakening

Dr. Richter’s Personal Notes (Recovered)

"It worked. HYPNOS isn’t about sleep deprivation—it’s about peeling back the veil. The subjects aren’t hallucinating. They’re SEEING. But the Night Doctors know we’ve been watching them back. They’re coming for..."

Day 30. The doors unlocked themselves at 3:33 AM.

Nina’s shrieks led me to Observation Room 1—where Trevor floated six inches above the floor, his mouth unhinging like a snake’s to vomit thick ropes of shadow.

"They need five to cross over," he rasped. "We’re the keyholes."

Behind him, the walls pulsed like a giant lung.

And from the ventilation shafts came the sound of scalpels being sharpened.

Epilogue: The Next Shift

Blackwood Research Job Posting (Current)

"Overnight trial assistants needed. $500/hr. Must pass psychological evaluation. Previous subjects encouraged to apply."

They found me outside the facility at dawn, naked and catatonic.

Nina’s body turned up in the water tower—her eyelids sewn open.

Mark and Priya? Just gone.

But sometimes at night, my TV turns to static.

And if I stare too long, I see them—my friends, their faces stretched too wide, waving from inside the screen.

Last night, they held up a sign:

"ONLY 1 MORE VOLUNTEER NEEDED."