...watches you sleep

First thing I did when coming back was look at this old pic and think "Wow that's refrigerator art." So decided to touch things up a bit as an art warmup.

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Deep in the wee hours of the night, a rather ordinary fellow awoke in a daze, suffering from the
consequences of enthusiastic drinking hours prior. He couldn’t be bothered to check what time it
was, but he knew it was too early. The morning light was not yet glowing from his window, so all
he saw the dark void of an unlit bedroom. Very much needing to relieve himself, he quickly rose
from his pillow, only to be halted by thumping into something. The unseen figure tumbled to the
floor with the wet thud of a body. Extremely alarmed and still not fully awake, or sober, the resident
thrashed as well, entangled in his own blankets and imbalance. Once snapping out of it, he
immediately got to his feet to turn the nightstand lamp on. Before light could fully pierce the
surroundings, he had already torn his alarm clock out of the wall and raised it over his head like a
madman’s weapon. His exasperated breathing only served as eerie ambiance to the vacant room
before him. His fear and confusion increased with each breath as he scanned every corner of the
emptiness with his eyes. No one was there, there were no muddy boot prints either, nor signs of a
break-in. Only silence filled the halls where he expected to hear an offender fleeing. The house
began to illuminate from room to room as its owner checked each and every place a person could
hide. Seconds steadily ticked away on all the clocks around him, while his mind slowly awakened
more with each one that passed. He stopped looking once it became obvious he was all alone, and
that he very well may have been from the start. Ultimately this lead to the most embarrassing
conclusion possible: he was not quite as awake as he thought, and what he experienced was
perhaps... his dream ending? The irritation from this realization increased once sunlight began to
peek through the blinds.

Having contributed the whole incident to stupidity on his part, he went about his day; a day just
as normal as any other. The week continued as it always did. He went to work, he hung out with
friends, and then inevitably came back to rest and repeat it all again. Nothing seemed out of the
ordinary from that point on, except for one difference: he left the hall light on all night. The
bedroom door remained open as well, letting the hall serve as a comically large nightlight.
Perhaps an embarrassing setup for a 26yr old man, but it wasn't hurting anything and it helped
him sleep, so why the hell not? And sleep well he did, until the 4th night. Repeating all the moves
step by step, he got a bit too loose with the alcohol again, so ended up crashing hard on his bed.
Naturally he slept facing the darker area of his room, away from the offending light of the
doorway. This seemed to work great, until he woke up again unexpectedly. Not to relieve himself
this time, no. Something wasn't quite right... A feeling, or intuition(?) was crawling up his back
slowly, like a large, thick spider. His exhausted eyes stared forward blankly at the dimly glowing
wall, while the bright hall behind emanated an ominous warmth. He tried to shake this feeling and
go back to sleep, but it didn’t seem to work. Eventually he surrendered and turned his head,
hoping that caving to this dread would end his unease.

Instead his breathing stopped, nearly followed by his heart. Fear and confusion paralyzed him as
his eyes fiercely locked gaze with the unknown horror staring back at him. The form watching him
didn't move, at all. It didn't make a sound or show any signs that it was even alive. If not for the
shadow it cast on the ground, he may have even doubted it was really there. It was there though,
looking at him with enormous red eyes, and smiling impossibly wide with an incomprehensibly
toothed mouth. Devilish horns adorned its head, conjuring visions of wicked intent. A horrifying
sight; otherworldly and ghoulish in every sense of the word. He was terrified, too terrified to move.
If he moved... would it move? What would that mean? He doesn't know how fast this thing is, how
strong it is, or even what the rest of it looks like. The overly analytical thoughts eventually ceased
after reaching a horrifying conclusion: he's looking at something he should have never seen, and
the consequences of that will likely be his end.

Unable to stand the hell of being trapped in this staring contest, he begins to move. While mostly
remaining still, the man very slowly grabs his covers and begins tensing muscle, getting ready to
bounce forward and fight if need be, or move backwards and defend if he has to. But just as he
worked up the nerve to take action, he freezes again. The creature is MOVING!? He thought he had
gained a sliver of bravery, but the moment that thing animated, he cracked like an eggshell. His
terror slowly morphed into confusion though, as the creature seemed to be moving.. away?? The
odd figure slowly loomed off to the side, still frozen in position and expression. It slid out of view
like a cardboard cutout going offstage at a play, vanishing from the doorway without a trace.
Baffled, spooked, and rattled too his very core, this poor guy just laid there, un-moving for several
minutes longer.. before tossing the sheets aside, slamming to his feet and opening the window. He
fumbled through too the ground below and ran as fast as he ever could. He didn't even care which
direction he went.
A police report was filed and the story got a small mention on the evening news. Of course
even with how distraught and frightened as he was, he was smart enough to only tell the police
someone was in his house. He never elaborated on who or what he saw. A clever move, it got the
authorities to check his house out thoroughly rather than dismiss him as a lunatic, but nothing was
ever found. Even after he moved only a week later, nothing was found in the barren space left
behind either. The only thing out of the ordinary was that old, rotted hole in the stucco, hidden in
the cupboard under his kitchen sink. A friend once humorously described it as "so big a child could
sneak in".
His life went on, and he never encountered such a creature again, but the effect of that night
lingered for all his days. Every home thereafter was equipped with motion tracking alarms, cameras
and a handgun now under his pillow, but all of that did little to give him a good nights rest.

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