Follow me on X: @punisherpapi · IG: @punisherpapi
When I was about fifteen years old, living in the front house, I had a nightmare one night that I still remember like it happened yesterday.
It was crazy… thinking back I can see it in my mind — its blackness impenetrable.
The night started normal — I went to bed like any other night. Passed out.
It was a weekday — what day, I couldn’t tell you, your honor — but it was during the week.
Then, all of a sudden, I woke up. Something caused me to wake. It’s like something activated my nervous system.
The lighting in the room had this bluish tone, mixed with a little white glow coming from the driveway window. That was my old room, before it became my dad’s. I looked toward that corner — where my CRT TV and dresser were supposed to be — but tonight they were gone.
Odd, I thought.
In their place was this thing.
A shadow. But not just a shadow — a wide, tall one. So tall its head touched the ceiling, and so wide it looked like a refrigerator made of black smoke. It stood there, solid and dark, like it had weight.
I froze.
The second I noticed it, it noticed me. I tried to move, but nothing worked. My arms wouldn’t move, my mouth wouldn’t open. I couldn’t even breathe right. That’s when it was suddenly on top of me — like it didn’t move across the room, it just appeared there.
Its hand wrapped around my neck. The fingers were so long they could touch each other around it.
It opened its mouth — wide, unnatural — full of sharp, spiky teeth.
And in my head, I heard it say:
“You’re about to die.”
Right then my back went ice-cold. I felt this rush of fear — not the kind you feel when you’re scared of a movie, but the kind that makes your whole body feel like it’s falling apart.
I tried to scream. I couldn’t. I tried to move. I couldn’t.
Moving became a task that I couldn’t complete no matter how hard I tried.
And then — suddenly — I was back in my room again. Same lighting, same corner, same shadow.
Waking again as if it ws the first time waking.
It happened again.
And again.
And again.
Four times total. Each time I’d think I woke up, but I was still inside it. The same shadow. The same voice. The same pressure.
I felt dread. I couldn’t escape my own mind. I became more afraid because I realized I was dreaming but couldn’t wake up. I thought oh no – will I never wake.
By the fourth time, I started praying. “Our father who arts in heaven, how’ll be thy name.” I didn’t even think about it — I just started praying the same prayer over and over.
That’s when I finally broke out of it.
This time when I woke up, I really was awake — sitting up, fighting to scream. My throat hurt. My whole body was soaked like I’d just taken a shower with my clothes on — hair wet, sheets wet, everything. I had to change all of it.
I’ve never had that nightmare again. But I’ve never forgotten it either.
People say you don’t remember dreams — but I think you remember the ones that remember you.
True story.
Leave a Reply