The Sleep Paralysis Society

The clinic seemed like a godsend. For years, Anna had struggled with sleep paralysis, trapped in her own body, unable to scream or move as dark, shadowy figures loomed over her. Every night was a fight against the suffocating terror that came with her inability to wake up. Doctors dismissed it as a stress-induced sleep disorder, but Anna knew better. It was something worse—something that felt too real to be just a nightmare.

Then she found Noctis, a new sleep clinic that promised to finally cure her. Its sleek website and glowing reviews painted it as a cutting-edge facility with revolutionary treatments. They claimed to have developed a method that would rid people of their sleep paralysis for good. Desperate for relief, Anna signed up immediately.

She arrived at Noctis on a chilly Wednesday evening. The clinic was nestled in a quiet, almost secluded area on the outskirts of town, a stark contrast to the bustling, modern city just miles away. The building itself was minimalist in design, all glass and steel, gleaming under the dim moonlight. She was greeted by a nurse named Lila, who wore a reassuring smile and promised her that everything would be “taken care of.”

Anna was led to a room with soft lighting and a bed that looked like it belonged in a high-end hotel. The nurse hooked her up to a machine with wires, attaching sensors to her head and chest. It was a strange, yet comforting process. The treatments, she was told, would use a mix of neurostimulation and guided therapy to reset her brain's sleep cycles and stop the paralysis episodes.

The doctor, Dr. Creighton, explained that the therapy would take a few sessions, but Anna would feel the effects almost immediately. His voice was calm, almost hypnotic, and his eyes were deep, as though he had seen far more than he let on. Anna felt a little uneasy, but the thought of finally being free from the nightly horrors made her hesitate for only a moment.

That night, after a quick injection to help her relax, Anna drifted off to sleep.

When Anna woke up, something was wrong.

The room was dark, much darker than it had been when she fell asleep. The bed beneath her felt colder than usual, and her body was completely still, as if some invisible force had bound her to the mattress. Her heart began to race. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She was back in her paralysis.

And then she saw it.

In the far corner of the room, the figure from her nightmares stood—a tall, faceless shape with long, spindly arms that stretched unnaturally toward her. The darkness seemed to bend around it, as if it were the very embodiment of the void. It was the same figure she had seen in her sleep paralysis episodes for years, but now, it felt closer. Real.

Her breath quickened, her body trembling with terror, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t scream. The figure’s long fingers inched closer to her face, brushing lightly against her cheek.

Just as it was about to touch her, a soft beep broke through the silence. The figure stopped. Slowly, it turned toward the sound, then vanished into the shadows, leaving Anna gasping for air as the paralysis finally wore off.

The beeping had come from the machine next to her bed. She tried to sit up, but a nurse quickly entered the room, her expression neutral.

"How are you feeling?" Lila asked, her voice calm and even.

“I—I saw it," Anna stammered, "I saw the figure, the one from my nightmares. It's real."

Lila didn’t react, as though she had heard this a thousand times before. "It’s just part of the process," she said, her smile never wavering. "You’re making progress. The nightmares will fade soon. Just get some rest."

Anna didn’t argue. She didn’t know how to explain the fear gnawing at her gut. She didn’t know how to explain that the figure was no longer just a figment of her imagination—it had been standing right there, inches from her.

The next morning, Anna went to the common area where the other patients were gathered, sitting quietly on couches or talking in low voices. There were six others besides her, all of them looking like they had seen the same horrors she had. She noticed a few of them glancing nervously around, their eyes haunted, as if they, too, had experienced something during the night.

It wasn’t long before she learned that one of them, a man named Greg, had gone missing. No one could explain it. He had been in the room next to hers the previous night, and now, his bed was empty. The nurses said he had left early, but something about their story didn’t sit right with Anna.

Something felt off about Noctis.

As the days passed, more patients disappeared. It started with Greg, but then slowly, others began to vanish—one by one, without explanation. The clinic’s staff remained disturbingly calm, reassuring the remaining patients that everything was fine, that the therapy was working, and that the missing patients had simply "graduated" to the next phase of treatment.

But Anna knew better.

One night, unable to shake the growing unease, she decided to stay awake. She had to see what was happening. She laid still, pretending to sleep, her eyes half-closed, watching the door to her room. The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Then, just before midnight, she heard the sound—the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps in the hallway.

A shadow passed under her door.

Heart pounding, she waited, holding her breath.

The door creaked open.

The figure from her nightmares stepped inside.

But this time, it wasn’t just a nightmare. This time, it was real.

Anna’s body froze in terror, but she forced herself to look away from the creature. Her eyes darted toward the window, and that’s when she saw it: a brief flicker of light outside, a faint reflection of the clinic’s true nature. Behind the sterile, clean walls of Noctis, there was something darker—an underground network of tunnels leading into the heart of the facility. She saw glimpses of patients, their eyes vacant, trapped in the depths.

Her mind raced. She had to get out.

But as the figure inched closer to her, its long fingers stretching toward her, Anna realized something: the figure wasn’t just a part of her nightmares. It was the manifestation of the clinic's curse. A curse that had existed long before Noctis had ever opened its doors.

The patients weren’t disappearing—they were becoming part of the clinic’s nightmarish system.

And Anna would be next.

In the silence of the room, the creature’s fingers brushed against her skin, sending a wave of ice through her body.

She closed her eyes, whispering the only words she could find: “I have to wake up.”

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape.

The darkness was already inside.