51 Sleepless Nights

by Tobias Wade

  Step Six: Make it impossible to leave

  This is the final – and I would argue most important – step. There is nothing as toxic to an organization as having a previous member leave and talk about it.

  Once I had ten members who had undergone the ceremony, I organized them into two groups of five. I gave them innocent tasks to prove their loyalty. Each one would be slightly more difficult than the last, which is important for keeping them invested.

  The final task to allow them full membership and protection was very simple. Four of them must team up and kill the fifth member of the group. For each group, I chose the least loyal, most suspicious member to be killed. I told the rest that the fifth member was a traitor – that he raped one of the other members. That he was going to single handedly destroy all we had worked to build together.

  They would never do it alone, but when the rest of their group was going along with it, they lost the power to think for themselves. Both groups did as they were told.

  It was a ritualistic sacrifice – the extra man would be tied down to a stone table. I had already drugged him, minimizing his resistance. I used his slurred speech as proof that he was possessed by an evil Cosmic Spirit which sought to destroy us all.

  I made sure each of the four loyal group members thrust the knife into his body at least once. After that, their conscience would bind them to me forever.

  If they stayed, their minds told them they were a hero. If they left, they were a murderer. Which do you think they would rather be?

  One full semester later, I have indoctrinated 54 members so far. There have been 10 deaths, soon to be an 11th.

  I’m not writing this as a confession – I don’t expect you’ll be able to find me. I’m writing this as an offer.

  My cult is growing, and there are different chapters springing up all around the country. We have been helpless pawns for too long, but we are learning how to play the game by their rules. When you are ready to take power into your own hands, I hope you will join me and change the world.

  Three go to sleep. Four wake up.

  I’ve done it. Three years of being single, and I’ve finally gotten a girlfriend.

  Yes she’s human. No she’s not blind. No she’s not a body pillow.

  These are the kinds of questions my best friend Mike kept asking me. I was so excited that I wasn’t even bothered. Besides, I knew he was just jealous because he’d never even been with a girl before. He’s always been the bigger nerd between the two of us – like learning Elvish from Tolkien’s books and chanting spells in our DnD games – hardcore nerd stuff.

  Neither of us are the type of guy that girls tend to hang around though. Mike and I live together; we’re both video game streamers (Hearthstone and Dota2), and we make a living off advertising and tournament winnings.

  I met Natasha through a Twitch chat room and she happened to live close by. Since the first day we met, we’ve practically been joined at the hip. We eat every meal together, shower together, even stream together.

  I don’t remember ever being this happy – the only problem is, Mike has decided to make this all about him. He started gaining even more weight, he never goes outside, and all he does is bitch about how I never hang out with him anymore.

  Natasha decided the solution was for the three of us to go camping together in Yellowstone National Park. Mike would get some exercise, I’d get to hang out with him, and most importantly, Natasha and I wouldn’t have to spend any time apart.

  I regret everything though. Why does everything in nature have to be so damn itchy?

  It turns out Natasha has a severe misunderstanding about how trails work. She must be a Skyrim player, because she thinks there is only one right way up a mountain, and that’s straight up the rock cliffs.

  If we weren’t still at that phase of dating where everything becomes an opportunity to impress each other, I would have given up and gone home. I have no idea how Mike made it, but we all decided the day was over by about 4 PM in the afternoon.

  The view was incredible – no I’m not just talking about Natasha in her short-shorts. She found a practically inaccessible rock ledge overlooking most of the park, and single-handedly hauled all our camping gear up there while Mike and I lay panting on the ground.

  Campfire – s’mores – a full blanket of stars – it was a great night. Natasha and Mike bonded over Magic the Gathering cards (which I can’t believe he packed instead of a lantern), and he finally agreed to start working out and taking better care of himself so he could find a girl too.

  As the campfire burned down to embers, we started telling ghost stories. I told one about a man-eating wendigo, Natasha knew a twisted story about a priest who crucified people, and Mike…

  I don’t know where Mike stole his story from, but he claimed to have made it up on the spot. I think he was trying to impress Natasha too, but I didn’t get jealous. He said it in a sing-song rhyming voice which was super creepy, and I made him write it down afterward. It went like this:

  I had a dream one fateful night, when day had made its run.

  When waking world had fled from sight, and silent moon eclipses sun.

  Into fitful slumber slipped, losing command of my thoughts.

  Nightmares around me gripped, the familiar had come to naught.

  I forgot what I’ve been taught about what cannot cause me harm.

  My fears abound, in safety sought, I scream to waken in alarm.

  Only to find I’ve fallen deeper, down this darkened pit of shade.

  No sound escapes from silent sleeper, nor outward sign of my dismay.

  I saw a monster rear its head, somewhere inside of mine.

  On my dear memories it fed, the beast who devours time.

  Scything talons raking down, gaping jaws of a giant spider.

  I was marked as I was found, as the one outsider.

  Until all I could recall of life, was that I had once loved.

  Until that too was torn in strife, an arm severed from the glove.

  There upon the edge of breaking, inside of me a guide would lead.

  She was the love I’d be forsaking, when I opened my eyes from sleep.

  She took my hand and together ran, from the monster in my mind.

  We got so far that soon began, what I never thought to find.

  We lived a day, a season, then year, an entire lifetime in my head.

  Happy as he who has forgotten fear, of the monster I had dread.

  Until finally it rose from quiet, when we thought ourselves alone.

  We had lived lives in spite it, but our life together was on loan.

  The monster had us caught! Trapped and helpless in a corner.

  With no escape I stood and fought, rather die than be a mourner.

  Rather lose oneself completely, than forget what I had sworn.

  Death before me, but I would beat he, who would dare to touch her form.

  I ripped the air with my two hands, but as the creature was not real,

  no blows upon the beast did land, though its talons I could feel.

  Blooded broken and abused, I awaited morning’s light to heal,

  and save me from this awful ruse, that my fortune had me sealed.

  She knelt above me, my lovely queen, and besought me waken from this dream.

  But what fate would befall her here? Would with the morning she disappear?

  She bore the monster and its fury, begging only that I woke.

  Bidding me go, though not to hurry, lest this the last time that we spoke.

  Sweat soaked, body shakes – I can’t remember why I was sad.

  Throat chocked, fully awake – memories flood of the dream I had.

  Blood trickled down my length, and I thanked each crimson bead.

  They gave hope and lent me strength, that perhaps she too was freed.

  And there my bride lay beside me, from my dream she was released.

  Wearied from dreaming wa
s she, who in the waking world found peace.

  I woke up to a high-pitched scream in the middle of the night. What the shit?

  Did a bear get into our camp? I thought we’d be safe from any of the larger wildlife because of the rock ledge. Or a maybe it was a mountain lion…

  I was on my feet – Natasha was already unzipping our tent.

  “Wait – it could be dangerous!”

  “Then we’ve got to help Mike.”

  I couldn’t fault her reasoning. I just wish she had been a little more selfish. I grabbed my cellphone to use as a flashlight, and followed her outside.

  “I’m okay! I’m okay. Sorry I screamed.” Mike was in his boxers, standing outside his tent.

  “You scream like a girl. What happened?” I asked.

  He pointed inside his tent and drew the flap back. Natasha and I peered inside with him.

  There was a girl – or maybe a Goddess – mid-twenties, long auburn hair, flawless skin – butt naked, lying beside Mike’s empty sleeping bag. I turned away for a moment, but looked again as soon as I noticed Natasha wasn’t averting her eyes.

  “Who the Hell are you?” Natasha asked.

  The girl smiled, making no effort to cover herself. She sat upright and began smoothing out her hair.

  “I had the dream – the same dream from that story I found,” Mike said.

  “Aha! I knew you didn’t make that shit up,” I said.

  “Yeah whatever,” Mike replied. “But I was dreaming about her. And the beast was there… and…”

  “What’s your name? Where did you come from?” Natasha asked.

  The girl stretched luxuriously, still smiling. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Mike, peering at us from over his shoulder.

  “Where did you find that story?” I asked Mike. He was frozen stiff with a mix of terror and rapture.

  “Some book. Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter if it’s real,” I said.

  “I don’t like it,” Natasha said. “Either tell us who you are, or get out of here.”

  “No!” Mike stepped protectively in front of her. “She’s lost without any food, or clothes, or anything. We can’t just leave her in the wilderness.”

  “You’re just saying that because you think you’re going to get some.” I don’t know why I was fighting it. I shouldn’t be jealous. I had Natasha. But this… this just wasn’t fair.

  “I don’t care,” Mike said. “I’m going to take her back with us and bring her to a hospital in the morning. Maybe she had a concussion or something.”

  “And until the morning?” Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

  The girl pulled away from Mike and settled into his sleeping bag. Mike smiled sheepishly.

  “Well she seems comfortable here so…”

  “You’re an idiot.” Natasha rolled her eyes and walked out. Over her shoulder, she added “But if the girl is real, then I wouldn’t be surprised if the beast was too.”

  Mike gave me a thumbs up. I laughed, closing the tent behind me.

  That was the last time I saw Mike alive. When we checked on him in the morning, his rib-cage was flayed open. His heart was missing, but there was still some scraps of sinew and part of his aorta lying in a pool of blood beside the bag. The girl was gone.

  I threw up in the bushes. Natasha just stared at the grizzly scene.

  “We’re going home,” she said, turning sharply away.

  “I’ll start packing –”

  “No,” she said. “Let’s just go.”

  “We can’t leave Mike like this.”

  “It’s his own damn fault. Now the girl could be anywhere, so let’s go now!”

  Natasha was already half-way down the rocky wall, but I wasn’t going to run through the forest naked. I opened my tent to grab some pants but –

  The girl was sitting in my tent. Her naked body was covered in blood, and when she smiled, more blood squirted out from between her teeth.

  “Hurry up!” Natasha yelled from outside. “I swear to God, I’ll leave without you.”

  I was bout to turn and run when the bloody girl finally spoke.

  “Help me.”

  “Help you? After what you did to –”

  “It wasn’t me!” Her smile was gone now, and she looked on the verge of tears. “It was the beast. He’s free too.”

  If she was telling the truth, then I couldn’t just leave her here. If she wasn’t…

  There was another SCREAM outside. Natasha! I leapt from the tent and ran to the place she was climbing down. Her crumbled body was lying on the ground. She must have slipped while climbing –

  No. There was a dark shape on top of her – like a wolf with impossibly long limbs and an elongated mouth.

  “Natasha!”

  But I was helpless to get to her in time. One bite was enough to snap the rib-cage open. I couldn’t watch what was going to happen next.

  I turned around, and the girl was gone. I ran – farther and faster than I ever have in my life. There were a few times when I heard something bounding through the underbrush to my side, but I didn’t look. I kept running, even when my lungs felt like they were about to explode, and the stitch in my side threatened to tear me in half.

  I don’t know whether the girl and the beast were the same, simply two-halves of the same nightmare. I don’t know if it’s still out there, or whether it only comes when that story is read aloud.

  I’m going to try and find the book where Mike found the story and destroy it. Although I have to admit, I’m a little curious what else is written in those pages…

  She is still with me

  “Well of course you’re depressed. You never leave the house.”

  “Your life isn’t over just because hers is. I’m sorry but it’s true.”

  “Don’t give up hope. You’re going to meet someone else and be just as happy as you ever were.”

  Just as happy.

  I’m tired of hearing it. What I’m going through – what I’m feeling – it’s nobody’s business but my own. I don’t even know how to begin opening up to anyone who isn’t Natalie. Ten years of feeling her warmth pressed against me when I wake. Ten years of whispering to each other in the dark. Ten years of making plans which will never be fulfilled.

  Nine months of drinking until I pass out on the couch with the TV on. I haven’t been able to sleep in the bed we shared since breast cancer stole my wife from me. Hell, I’ve barely been able to sleep at all, and by the way people talk to me, I know they can tell.

  They’re right of course, but that only makes it harder. Knowing they’re right, and still being unable to do anything about it is such a frustrating feeling – like realizing the right answer after you’ve already turned in your test. But I’m working through the grief in my own way. It has been a confusing time for me, but I’ve started keeping this journal to help me process my thoughts. While I will never forget her, in time I will learn to move on.

  I’m meeting someone for dinner tonight. I won’t call it a date – it probably is, but I don’t want to put my mind in that place yet. Sarah, the daughter of an older client, is in town and I’ve promised to entertain her for the evening. I guess she has some self-esteem issues, and I’m supposed to make her feel better about herself. We’ve chatted a few times and she’s laughed at some of the things I said (even though I know they weren’t funny). I would have even called her beautiful at a time when I still looked at women that way. Well, here goes nothing…

  Why the fuck didn’t I listen to myself. I knew it was too soon. I felt tense the moment I sat down with her. I should have just left then. Everything was going fine though – more than fine she was fantastic – but then she started humming that damn ‘my heart will go on’ song. The one song stuck in her head just had to be the first song Natalie and I danced to at our wedding. What are the chances?

  I feel like an idiot for jumping up and racing to the bathroom.
I don’t know how long I stayed in there, but I was half-hoping she would be gone when I came out. To her credit, Sarah just laughed it off and acted like nothing happened.

  She did ask one strange thing though: she asked what Natalie would have thought about her… what an awkward silence that was. All I could manage was “My wife would have been happy to see me having a good time.” That was a lie, of course. I couldn’t exactly tell her that Natalie was the jealous type – if she knew I was out on a “date” now, then six feet of dirt wouldn’t be enough to stop her. Sarah is so sweet to still worry about that even with Natalie gone…

  We’re getting drinks again. She was even the one to invite me. I can’t believe it. Natalie is the only one to ever chase me before. I’ve heard girls sometimes find men who are suffering to be the most attractive. Our indifference gives them a challenge – our damage gives them something to fix. I’m honestly excited about it. Even if nothing else happens, this will be good for me.

  She actually reminds me of Natalie a lot. The way she cups my hand in hers when she leans in to talk – and then there’s the way she bites her lip when she’s holding back a smile. She even wears the same kind of long dress with the high belt my wife used to wear, although she has the type of body which would do well in something more revealing…

  Now that I think about it, Sarah and Natalie really have a lot in common. You don’t think that… no it’s impossible. Natalie is gone. I wanted to move on, right? And that’s never going to happen by entertaining such ridiculous thoughts.

  Okay this is getting weird though. Sarah won’t stop mentioning Natalie. She spent the whole evening asking about how we met, and what I liked about her, and how we spent our time together. It was hard enough talking about my dead wife on a date, but then Sarah would stare at me as though she was analyzing my every answer.

  How am I supposed to forget Natalie like this?No! Not forget! I didn’t mean forget… I’ll never forget… but I think Iwantto. Is that so wrong? If thinking about her brings me nothing but sadness, is it so wrong to want to be happy?

  Natalie would have thought so. I promised I would never love anyone like I loved her. I promised she could never be replaced. Could she really still be holding me to that promise? What if Sarah was only a test – what if Natalie is still watching me, waiting for me to fail? I need to go for a walk.