The Sleep Demons

              Before the man could take off his coat and get himself situated at the bar, the bartender had already poured his drink and served it to him.  Every night at the same time he arrives here after work and orders the same drink.  He was a quiet man who kept to himself and seemed to have no desire whatsoever to socialize with any of the other customers.  He would drink until thoroughly inebriated.  Since he never conversed with anyone he was not known for becoming argumentative, and since he lived across the street from the bar he would always walk home.  Therefore, the bartending staff thought of him as a harmless drunk and because of his anti-social behavior they presumed him to be somewhat of a misanthrope.  Even though he wasn’t seen as a particularly cheerful individual he was always welcomed because he bought a lot of drinks and he was extremely generous with his tips.

         This night started just like every other.  He sat staring blankly at the TV above the bar with his drink in one hand and his cigarette in the other.  His night would have continued like this if it weren’t for someone tapping on his shoulder to get his attention.  Looking up he was surprised to see that the stranger was a former girlfriend of his.  He had lost contact with her when she moved to another city to go to college.  They were excited to have run into each other here by chance and they immediately began to become reacquainted with one another.  These two hadn’t seen each other in about ten years, ever since they had graduated from high school.  After college she returned to the city she grew up in and became a teacher.  She told him stories about how in her spare time she wrote children books.  She told him she hadn’t been published yet but that it was her present goal.

              He had become so preoccupied with reminiscing and becoming reacquainted with her that he began to lose all sense of time.  Her presence had distracted him from his goal: which was to leave this bar with his mind completely dulled with alcohol.

         That’s when the lights of the bar came up and interrupted his conversation.  It was closing time and the bartender on duty was trying to get everyone’s attention so he could usher people out the door.  Terror griped the man as he realized he was now forced to return to his home sober.  Without delay he began to plea with the bartender to serve him at least three quick shots of whiskey.  He very adamantly explained he could not under any circumstances go home sober.  He was hoping the bartender would take pity on him.  Especially, if he said he couldn’t go to sleep if he were sober.  However, the bartender stuck with his original decision to regretfully deny the man any more alcohol. 

              He turned to his former girlfriend and asked her if she had any alcohol at her place.  When she said, “No,” he then begged her to spend the night with him.  He said he desperately needed company.  That terrible things would happen to him if was to be alone for the night.  He franticly explained he wasn’t after sex.  That she had no reason to be worried about him coming on to her.  He told her that he could explain himself better either at his place or hers. 
She appeared concerned for his well-being, but at the same she felt put off by his behavior.  The more he plead to her the more she wanted to get away from him.  She could plainly see the distress in his eyes and hear the fear in his voice. She tried being polite and explained to him that she didn’t feel comfortable with idea of spending the night with him.  While at the same time she slowly stepped backward toward the door.

              Sensing her uneasiness he made an attempt to explain himself.  “I’m not crazy” he said, “it’s just that sometimes when I’m sober and I try to go to sleep something will wake me.  I don’t know what it is.  The best way I can describe it is that it’s like a ghost.  I can’t see it but it’s there, haunting me.  Maybe, the presence of another person will keep it from coming to me.  Please, I need you.”

              Despite his explanation she remained unconvinced.  “I simply can’t do this for you” she said.  “I’m sorry and I hope you understand.”  She tried to comfort him by adding that it was entirely possible that this so called ghost would not come to him tonight.  That he could very well go home and have a sound night of sleep without being haunted.  Especially if he could try to relax and not think about this ghost. 

              Having said that she turned to leave.  He wanted to stop her.  He wanted to make her understand what was going to happen to him.  But he thought it would be best to let her leave.  Deep down he knew there was no way to convince her and that any further attempt to would just push her further away from him.  Reluctantly, the man left and made his way across the street to face the horror he knew would await him that night.

         When he arrived at his apartment he realized this was the first time in years he had seen his place at night through sober eyes.  His room seemed as though it had been given life from some kind of demonic force.  This force was lurking about within the walls and in the furniture all the while it waited with some kind of malevolent patience.  It waited for an opportunity to strike.  Like a fiendish hunter stalking its prey.  He felt vulnerable and helpless.  His spine tingled as if he were unconsciously aware of dangerous eyes observing his every move.

              He knew his demon would come for him, so he tried to put it out of his mind.  He figured that it was possible he was allowing his imagination to run wild and this sensation of being watched was being emanated from paranoia.  He chose to put on the TV hoping this would provide him with a suitable distraction until sleep eventually took hold of him.

         Lying on his couch staring at the mind numbing late night programs he feels himself drift to sleep.  Just as his eyes grew heavy and before he could slip into a calm sleep it happens.  Suddenly the demon, he hid from in a bottle, appears.  He becomes startled and makes an attempt at jumping off of his couch but it is no use.  He couldn’t move.  It didn’t surprise him that he was paralyzed.  Every time the demon appeared to him he found himself in this state.  This seamed to be the demon’s method of attack.  The malicious presence would somehow manipulate his body leaving him completely defenseless.  No matter how hard he tried to move nothing would happen.  He then made an attempt to scream in the hope that a neighbor would hear and perhaps knock on his door.  Then, hopefully, the evil spirit would disappear.  Not surprisingly his mouth and tongue like the rest of his body would not move.  The only noise he could make was a slight gurgle.  The only part of his body unaffected by the paralysis was his eyes.

         He could see the TV but could not hear it clearly.  Behind the TV he could see shadows of ominous, looming figures.  None of these figures clearly resembled anything like a man or other creature but they seemed to have a consciousness.  These silhouettes seemed to stretch out along the walls as if trying to envelope his apartment with darkness. 

              The man became desperate and focused all of his will power to just move one muscle.  He knew from previous experience that if he could simply make one finger twitch or one foot budge he would be released from this sinister power that was binding him.  As the monster drew closer his fear built to a panic.  Still trying to move he attempts another scream and again the only noise he could make was slightly louder than a mouse’s squeal.

         Finally he’s legs begin to move.  He was kicking franticly back and forth but for some odd reason the rest of his body remained in a paralyzed state.  This had never happened to him before.  Every other time he was attacked like this, once he moved a single part of his body, anything at all no matter how slight, he would regain control of himself and the spirit would leave him.  Now, his legs moved back and forth as if he were running but for some odd reason he could not move anything from the waist up.  More importantly his apparitional guest was still in the room with him.  It was moving closer.  So close that he could feel it’s cacodemonical breath on the back of his neck. 

              Suddenly the man was shocked with the sensation he now felt.  This sensation was stillness in his legs.  He no longer felt his legs kicking wildly but he could still hear the rustling of his pant legs moving back and forth against the couch as if his legs continued to move.  The wraith had tricked his senses into making him believe that he could feel his legs moving when in truth they had remained a stationary the entire time.  Now he could feel the vile devil mocking him.  It had made him believe he was about to be free of this nightmare.  That he had won against this being from hell and because his legs had broke the mystical bond, or so he thought, the rest of his body would also be freed.  Now he realized the demon had giving him this hope intentionally.  It wanted him to feel like he had defeated this power over his body only to take that hope away a moment later.  Once this hope was shattered there was nothing left for him to do but give in to this devil.

         The man felt helpless, for the demon seemed much more powerful than it had ever been before.  As if all those years that he had kept this thing at bay with alcohol and drunkenness as his only weapons against it, it somehow became more powerful.  Like it somehow trained itself for the one time he put his guard down. 

                He was surrounded by darkness.  He could still see his apartment, the furniture and the TV but every shadow became more profound.  The fiend had won.  Its machination was now becoming clear.  The poor man was now to spend eternity in darkness with the beast forever by his side.  He would be helpless and immobile while his tormentor would be in rapture with the man’s suffering.  As each second passed he became more delirious.  He felt as if he were on the verge of insanity.

         Even this type of tension, however, eventually has a breaking point.  Just when it seemed nothing would make this creature go away, he felt a burst of energy that made his arms and legs flail wildly about and caused him to fall to the floor.  He had instantly regained control of his muscles and then gave a quick look about the room.  The sensation of an evil presence lurking in his apartment was gone.  The room appeared placid and inanimate and the shadows went back to being shadows.  He knew his nemesis had gone back to whatever hell it came from where it will wait for another sober opportunity to return.

         For now he could sleep in peace because the attack was over and he was confident that it wouldn’t happen again tonight.  It always amazed him how quickly it went away.  Even though this thing never caused him any physical harm it was still an extremely terrifying experience.  From that moment on he made a vow to never find himself sober at night again.