Sleepstalker

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1
Hi, my name is Greg. Let me begin by clarifying that I used to live a normal life, not too long ago.
That was before I noticed a change in my brother. I don't know if he meant to do what he did,
but it did happen, and I hate it. Ramon was your typical annoying little brother type. He liked to
play jokes on anyone who would fall for them, and most of the time that was me... But, the
joking ended one night when Ramon went to bed.
-
"Mom, he did it again!!" I was referring to a joke Ramon had pulled on members of our family in
the past. He had tied a rope from my door to the bathroom door, so that when I tried to open
mine, It opened just enough so that I could see what was going on. After untying the rope I
rushed out of my room and headed for Ramon's. SMACK! He was standing right next to my
door, and we both butted heads and fell to the floor.
"See, that's what you get you loser." I muttered as I stumbled back to my feet.
"Oww... I don't feel so good!" Ramon moaned. As I tried to shove him back to his room, blood
starting spilling out of his mouth and all down his shirt! "Oh, no... mom! Ramon's hurt!" My
mom came running out of her room and immediately frowned when she saw Ramon. "Go to
bed you two." Ramon smiled up at me and spit an empty capsule into his hand. "It's fake,
LOSER!" Ramon ran back to his room laughing hysterically as I realized I had once again been
duped.
I walked to the kitchen to get a glass of milk and a cookie before heading back to bed.
I sat and slowly chewed, wondering how I could get Ramon back. When I returned to my room
about ten minutes later, I noticed my door was slightly open. I had definitely closed it before I
headed to the kitchen... hadn't I? I slowly creaked open my door and looked around. My room
was empty. I went to my bed to lie down. In the pit of my stomach, something just didn't feel
right. Little did I know, I was getting ready to find out why. I lay in my bed with my eyes closed,
although I wasn't tired just yet. Our house always made creepy creaking sounds and let us know
it was old at night. This night I was listening even more carefully when I heard it. It wasn't the
usual creak. It was a scratching that did not cease. It was coming closer. It became louder and
louder every few seconds. I was scared to open my eyes, but I eventually had to when my door
came crashing open!
"What the..." I could not see who had slammed open my door, my eyes were blurry from having
them closed. When they came into focus I saw the shadow of a person my height making it's
way toward me. I held my breath and grabbed my baseball bat. I reached up and switched on
my lamp. I couldn't believe my eyes. Ramon had two steak knives in his hands! The scratching
noises were the knives scraping together. And worst of all, one knife appeared to have thick
BLOOD on it!
"DADDDDD!" I screamed out. Moments later, my dad walked in, hair wildly standing
on end from sleep. "What is i..." Dad paused when he saw Ramon. He flipped my light switch on
and Ramon's eyes which had appeared glazed over, became normal again as he turned to face
our father. "R-Ramon?" Dad began. "What are you doing? G-Give me those!" Ramon stood
looking down at his hands in bewilderment as dad carefully snatched the knives away.
"Is this another one of your awful jokes, son?" Dad questioned Ramon. "I...I didn't know what,
why I..." Ramon was still wide-eyed and at a loss for words. "This is not funny Ramon. I don't
know what we're going to do if you don't stop this." Dad looked as though he was slightly scared
as well as angry with Ramon. "Dad, you have to believe me... I really don't know what I was
doing, I don't remember what happened..." Ramon tried to reason. "Just go to bed, Ramon. I
don't know if I can believe you anymore."
Ramon turned back to me with a look of confusion over his face. I didn't know what to think.
Dad then noticed the 'blood' on the knife. "WHAT'S THIS?" Dad shouted. He looked at it for a
few seconds before he tasted it. "Strawberry Jam? Were you making a sandwich Ramon? Is that
it?" Dad started to look a little more forgiving. "I really don't remember that, Dad..." Ramon was
at a loss for words. "Get some sleep, kids." Dad said, shaking his head as he turned off the light.
But as soon as the light went off, Ramon's eyes became blood red in the dark. Dad, not noticing,
gently pushed him out of my room and toward his room. 3
The next day, I questioned Ramon about what he had done. I couldn't get much out of him. "I
was asleep, and then I was dreaming about a murderer chasing me with knives... And then, I
woke up, and I was in your room - HOLDING the knives." Ramon really didn't act like he was
joking around the previous night. I was extremely confused, and I just wanted to forget the
whole thing.
That night our parents traveled out of town for their wedding anniversary and I had planned
to have a friend over to play some video games and spend the night. Everything was great, that
is until Ramon ran in and spilled a Coke on my game system. Once I cleaned up the mess, me
and my friend Bobby climbed into our sleeping bags and tried to get some sleep. No more than
an hour later I awoke from my slumber. I heard sounds again. Not scratching sounds anymore...
more like wood chopping this time!
Apparently Bobby was a really sound sleeper because he didn't flinch. I jumped to my feet and
saw that my closed door was in pieces. After standing there for a few seconds, the crashing
ceased. I waited and then cautiously went to my door. I opened it an inch to peek out into the
hall. Nothing was there! I opened the door and stood in the doorway surveying the hallway.
Dark. Empty. As I walked out of my room to go to Ramon's, I noticed HIS door was wide open.
When I was outside his doorway, I heard yet another horrible crash. "Oh no," I muttered, as I
heard glass breaking in my room. I ran back to my room to find the same figure as from a night
ago standing on my windowsill, broken glass covering his pajamas. It was Ramon, and even in
the darkness, his eyes were glowing bright red. He was holding a huge ax that I guessed had
come from our own garage.
His eyes were focused on me for a moment but then he looked down at Bobby, who was
starting to come to. "What..." Bobby was moving around trying to make sense of what he was
seeing. Ramon moved closer to Bobby. Just within ax reach. "What are you doing... Ramon? Is
that you?" Bobby began to crawl away. "Nooo!!!" Bobby shouted out, as the ax came striking to
the floor. Bobby's lifeless arm lay next to it, gushing dark blood all over the carpet. Medics were
at our house ten minutes later. It all felt like a nightmare to me. Bobby's parents rode with him
to the hospital. Our parents were still out of town, and they promised to call when they had
reached their destination. The police were questioning me, and they were closely watching
Ramon. I told the policemen that it was almost like Ramon didn't mean to do what he had done.
Ramon was crying and the police were getting ready to pass it off as a horrible 'accident'.
Ramon continued to tell the policemen that he didn't remember anything that happened before
he awoke (He apparently woke up when I turned the light on to see if Bobby was really... well,
disarmed). The police soon left and gave Ramon a warning that they were going to be keeping a
close watch on him for a while. After everyone had cleared out, Ramon and I could do nothing
but stand there, looking at my carpet. It was covered, no, soaked in blood. How were we
supposed to explain this to our parents?
Ramon didn't go to sleep again all night. He was too scared of what might happen if he did. The
next day, our parents called. They were on their way home and would be back tomorrow. I had
to survive one more night alone with Ramon. I didn't tell mom or dad what had happened,
because they were so happy. I decided to look up sleeping disorders on the Internet. Maybe
Ramon had a strange disorder I had yet to hear of.
All I could find that evening was a disorder called Sleep-walking. It didn't quite seem to fit
though. Nowhere did it say that those who had it would be dangerous to others. It did say that
the only treatment was keeping those with the disorder locked up tight when they slept. I read a
little more information and then decided to tell Ramon what I had found out. I unplugged the
computer when I heard a thunderstorm brewing outside. It was also getting dark. I needed to
hurry.
"No Greg, it's not true! How could I just have a disease when I've never had these problems
before?" Ramon refused to believe me. I wouldn't give up. I locked Ramon's windows as the sun
began to set. As I was locking the last window in his room, the lights went out. I looked out the
window and saw that the street lights were also not working. 'The lightning must have done it,' I
thought.
I walked out of Ramon's room and started feeling my way down to the kitchen, where we kept
the flashlights. On the last step of the stairs I felt something wrap around my foot and I fell flat
on my face. My nose was bleeding and I thought I had tripped on the carpet. I felt my way to the
sink and wet a rag for my nose. I grabbed a flashlight from the cabinet and flipped the button
on. As I dabbed the blood from my nose, I noticed a puddle of it on the floor. 'That couldn't be
mine,' I thought. I bent down to see if it really was blood. I had seen so much of it lately... (The
real stuff and the fake). As I touched the blood I heard a horrible squeal. Sitting inches from my
face was a huge raccoon. The raccoon was the source of the blood - but I wasn't concerned
about that... I wanted to know what a dead raccoon was doing on our kitchen floor. The answer
came up right behind me. "Gregoryyy... Don't you recognize me? I'm your lovable little brother...
hee hee hee." I was staring at Ramon's bright red eyes. He was in his pajamas and was covered
in bloody scars. Somehow, he had escaped from his bedroom. "It has to end now Greg. I've let
you live for much too long. It's not a game. You were chosen to die - now let me finish you!"
I couldn't speak. I was not talking to my brother. Ramon never kidded around like this. This was
frightening. "Don't act like you don't understand, Greg. You understand perfectly now don't
you? I have to ask this - at least - this is what I ask all of those put to sleep..." I waited for his
question - I had no clue what horrible words were about to come out of his mouth. "Before I
send you to your maker tonight - do you have any last words?" Ramon uttered. I had heard that
question asked by executioners in movies before. My brother - he thought he was an
executioner? "Ramon - you are my brother... your eleven years old. You are not an executioner.
WHAT is wrong with you?"
"I am Samuel Ivester Whitfield and those were YOUR last words. It is your time to die Gregory
Patrick Helms." I shone the light directly in his eyes but it had no effect on him. I thought the
light was surely what awoke him from this horrifying state. "Ha! You think that puny light is
going to stop this?" Ramon moved aside and for the first time, I saw what was behind him. It
was BOBBY! He was holding a butcher knife that was dripping in blood. "Did you really think I
was mortal Gregory? You fool. My arm healed hours after the... accident. Ramon's blood was on
that ax. And now - I am just as evil."
I slowly began to back up as I shuddered in fear. Suddenly, the lights flickered and came back on
bright. Ramon screamed as he saw the raccoon at his feet. Bobby looked as though he was
going to be sick. He then noticed he was holding a knife and he let it fall to the linoleum. "What -
What is this Greg?" Bobby spoke up. I cleared my throat and replied, "Bobby, you and Ramon
are sick. Something, or someone... has taken over your bodies. Something is making you do
these horrible things and we have to stop it, or you two may never sleep like normal kids again!"
Bobby and Ramon couldn't bear to go to sleep that night. They sat in Ramon's bedroom and
watched television with the lights ON. I was dead tired, and I dozed off in my bed soon after
checking on the two of them. My lamp was on too, just in case. I awoke only hours later with an
excruciating pain in my chest... in complete darkness.
Even in the darkness I could see the moon-lit glow from the huge kitchen knife. My chest was
soaking wet. The last words that entered my ears were, "Your time is up Greg. You are infected
now. Join us." I let out a whimper seconds before my mouth filled with blood.
THE END