Read Nightmare Man for Free Online

effects, up to and including death.
    I look up from the pill to the doctor. I don’t even remember his name. I feel like he’s a little tense, like he’s sitting just a little bit too far forward on his white rolling chair, and watching me with eyes opened just a little too wide. His overly pink lips are parted just a bit. It makes him look hungry.
    “What’s your name again?” I ask, still holding the pill.
    “Turner. Dr. Bill Turner.”
    “Will I be seeing you for my daily visit?”
    “What time are you coming in?”
    “About 3:30.”
    “Yes, then. Probably so. Now please take your dose.”
    I give the little green pill one more glance, then toss it down.
    * * *
    I go to sleep without taking my clonazepam. About twenty minutes in, I feel the spark of awareness in my numbing brain that usually indicates the nightmare man will be coming soon. I don’t always get this warning. Sometimes, when it happens while I’m still semi-aware, I’ll turn on the bedside lamp and try to sleep with the light on. It’s not very restful, but neither is battling a shadow monster. This time, I decide to let the drug do its thing. So close to sleep, it’s easy to find reasons to not move.
    I roll over and adjust my pillow, then take a sip of water and place the plastic cup back on the nightstand. There’s a brief period of time when your brain holds a perfect memory of what you’ve seen. My subconscious plays lazily over the image as I drift back into sleep.
    My eyes snap open. Something is in the room with me.
    I don’t move, just stare into the corner, forcing my eyes to again find the pattern in the inky shadow. I find his hooded head first, and the rest takes shape.
    He’s watching me. How long has he been watching me? Does he know I’ve seen him?
    I can feel every muscle in my body. They all want to explode. I have to force them into true stillness rather than the vibrating isometric balance they strain for.
    He stands perfectly still. Either he’s waiting for me to notice him, or he knows I’ve already noticed him and he’s toying with me. Either way, he’s toying with me.
    When he finally moves, he moves fast. I let my muscles have their way and they hurl me out of bed. I land on my hands and knees in a snarling crouch, but I can’t find him. Whipping my head back and forth, I barely catch sight of the end of his coat as it slips beneath the bedroom door, trailing after him.
    Then I understand why he passed me by. He’s not after me this time. He’s after my family.
    I jump to my feet and open the door without hesitation. Somehow, I know he isn’t lying in wait for me. It isn’t about me.
    My body is pumped full of adrenaline, and my eyes are wide open, adjusted to searching for shadow in shadow. The hall light slams into my optic nerves like twin ice picks, but I don’t let it slow me. I cover my eyes with one hand and slide the other along the wall.
    Peering between my fingers, I scan the hall. At the open end, the darkness stutters with bluish light from the television in the living room where Shannon lies sleeping on the couch. He’s not there.
    The first door is Madison’s room. It’s open just a crack. I stick my head in and glance around. Her night light—a teddy bear holding the strings of a bunch of glowing balloons—turns everything a warm orange. Madison lies on her back with her arms spread wide, her mouth hanging open and her blankets kicked off.
    He’s not in there.
    I take the few steps farther down the hall to Logan’s room. The door is open a few inches to let a bit of light in from the hallway. I push the door the rest of the way open.
    There’s no need to search for the nightmare man. He stands at the end of Logan’s bed, staring down at him, pulsing like a black hole throwing off X-rays. Each pulse of black light throws the room into total darkness, except for him and sleeping Logan.
    The moment breaks, and I hurl myself across the room and onto Logan’s bed. I cover his body with