Good evening, it's Spooky Boo Rhodes coming to you from the lighthouse in Sandcastle, California. Tonight I have for you terrifying and disturbing stories about sleepwalking. These stories will keep you shivering in your sheets wondering if you'll find a sleepwalker at your door or maybe even wondering if you're sleepwalker!First I'd like to thank the listeners and Patreon members including madjoe, Ivy Iverson, John Newby, PA Nightmares, Patrick, and 933TheVolt.com. If you would like to know how to support the show by listening to the commercial-free version on Patreon or through merchandise and other means, please visit www.scarystorytime.com/support.I'm working on a paperback anthology of the stories I write. If you would like to preorder a copy, please be sure to subscribe to the mailing list at www.scarystorytime.com to be notified of when it will be available.Now let's begin...The Sandmanby Tom Lin“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.”
—Edgar Allen Poe, "Eleanora""Go to bed and wait for the Sandman."Even as it came out of James's mouth it seemed to him a strange thing to say, and he was not sure why he had, but for some reason it worked: Daniel went to bed.The next morning, though, he asked: "What does the Sandman look like?"James was making breakfast. Daniel sat at the table, short legs swinging under his chair. "Nothing, really," James said. "It's just an expression.""What does it mean?""Just something people say." He put a plate of eggs in front of Daniel and kissed him on the top of his head. He thought that would be the end of it.Until he saw the Sandman for himself.He was getting ready for bed and stopped by Daniel's room to check on him while he slept, as he often did. It was such a routine precaution that when he saw a pale, naked man sitting on the edge of Daniel's bed, rocking back and forth, it took a moment for him to process what he was seeing.He reacted the way any father would, of course: He ran into the room screaming, and for a moment he thought about attacking the intruder, but then the man on the bed turned, and that's when James saw that it wasn't really a man: It was a pale, slithery thing, hairless and warped, its joints turned the wrong way and its body out of shape with itself. When it moved it was like an insane marionette dancing on a stage.James froze. The skittering thing watched him. He felt spreading warmth, and he realized he'd pissed his pants. Only when he remembered that Daniel was still there in bed, staring at the broken-shaped thing sitting a foot away, did he regain the courage to move. He grabbed Daniel and ran. In the hall he turned to see if the thing would follow them, but it didn't. For a moment it watched and then, moving like a stop-motion nightmare, it crawled to the window and jumped out, leaving only the billowing curtains to mark its passing.James had trouble talking to the police. He reported a break-in, but when asked to describe the intruder he didn't know what to say. How could he make the ordinary man in the blue uniform sitting at his kitchen table while two of his colleagues searched the house understand a thing like he'd seen? He couldn't even understand it himself.To make it worse, Daniel's memory did not correspond to James's: He described an ordinary looking burglar. "A man in a mask," he said. James thought about it: Had it been a mask? No, it would had to have been a full costume, and an elaborate one, something like they would use for a movie. And that would not explain the way it moved...But in the end he simply echoed his son's testimony: "A man in a mask," he said. "A burglar." The lie unsettled him almost as much as what had happened.The doctors said Daniel wasn't hurt and showed no signs of molestation. James was relieved. They stayed at a motel for a couple nights until they felt ready to come home, and then James had a new security system installed, along with bars on the windows. He didn't like the sight of them in Daniel's room, but it seemed like the only thing to do.James was frightened that first night back in the house, but Daniel, strangely, was not. When asked if he felt okay sleeping alone, he just said yes. In the end it was James who found himself wishing he were not sleeping alone. He was up all night listening for the sound of anything moving in the house. Although he had convinced himself that his memory was faulty and that it had been a normal (albeit probably deeply disturbed) man in his son's room, when he closed his eyes even for a moment he pictured bloodless skin and a twisted, inhuman face. He found himself wondering, why my house? Why my family? He knew, of course, that there didn't have to be a reason. But still, he wondered.Two weeks later Daniel stopped talking. James didn't notice at first; kids went through quiet phases sometimes. But eventually he tried to get Daniel to talk, and he wouldn't. Eventually, it became clear that he couldn't.Back to the doctor they went. Nothing wrong with him that we can see, was the diagnosis. Was it the trauma, James asked? Could be, they said. Sometimes these things come on late. Children can be a mystery even to those who know them best. They recommended a child psychologist, whom James couldn't afford. He could not, for that matter, even afford the bill they were giving him now.Nothing seemed to help. Daniel would write out answers to questions sometimes, but never more than a yes or no. When James would ask him what was wrong, or if he'd seen or heard anything that frightened him, Daniel would only stare. He seemed furtive and bemused. James found himself missing the sound of his son's voice. Sometimes he wanted to hear it so bad that he ached. But it seemed that Daniel would not talk again until he was ready.James had other things to worry about, too. He was convinced, beyond reason, that the intruder was not really gone. Though the alarm never went off and the locks and bars remained undisturbed, he was sure that he heard movement in the night. Not normal movement: It was a sound like a huge snake slithering through the house. When he heard it, he imagined horrible things. Nothing was ever there when he went to investigate, though he often thought he glimpsed something just out the corner of his eye, a pale foot or a misshapen shadow that would slink away as soon as he turned.He rarely slept, and when he did he had haunted dreams.Soon he realized he had not left the house in weeks except to go to the bank and buy groceries. He felt hemmed in. With Daniel acting mute he hadn't had an actual conversation with anyone in weeks, so he called his mother. The connection was bad and her voice sounded faint, on the verge of being not there at all. "I guess I'm okay, Ma," he said, pausing to wipe the sweat from his palms and then make sure he could hear Daniel playing in the next room. "But things have been a little rough. We had a break-in.""Oh how awful!" Mom said. "Did they take anything?""Nah. Just ran off. It was weird though. I haven't really felt comfortable since then.""Are you still working at that hospital?""No Ma, I left last year, you know that.""Oh. Well, have you been getting out? What about that nice woman you were seeing last year, the one who played the piano?"James scowled. She was always asking that kind of thing. Didn't she know how hard it was being a single father? That he didn't have the time? He was about to say so when something made him pause."Ma, is there anyone else on the line?""I don't think so?"James was sure he heard it, though: the short, gasping sound of someone trying to hold their breath and failing. A cold feeling crept across the back of his neck. "You're sure nobody is listening on your other phone?""Dear, there is no other phone, I'm on the cell, that's why the service is so bad.""Then what is—" James stopped. If the sound wasn't coming from her end, then...He dropped the phone and raced to the hall. The extension hung on its hook, undisturbed. Heart pounding, he hurdled into the garage; the spare phone sat on the workbench. No one was in sight. But could they have been? Could someone have been here all along, listening to his phone call, and then slithered away? Might they be here even now?The next day he took out the extra phone extensions. He even filled in the jacks with rubber cement. Daniel watched him work, eyes curious, but James offered no explanation.He began giving Daniel a light physical exam every week. His CNA training was a little rusty after a year on disability, but you never really forget. It was an absurd thing to do, of course; even if there was a physical cause for Daniel's behavior, it would be nothing he could discover this way. And he was aware on some level that it was compulsive behavior. Nevertheless, it made him feel better.One morning James set the diaphragm of the stethoscope against Daniel's chest, but he could not locate a heartbeat. He moved his hand in search of the right spot, to no avail. Then, to test it, he listened to his own heartbeat; it came through steady and clear. But when he checked Daniel again he didn't hear anything. A thought came unbidden to him of the Tin Man in "The Wizards of Oz", whose chest was empty as a kettle.A sick feeling roiled his stomach. He threw the stethoscope down and grabbed Daniel by the shoulders, looking into his face. Daniel stared back with bright eyes. He even smiled a little, with the corners of his mouth. James felt the tingle of tears. He swept his son up in his arms and hugged him, and Daniel hugged back. Then James put his shirt back on him and sent him to play. The stethoscope, he decided, was broken. He threw it in the trash.Things got worse. James's terrors were no longer relegated to the long hours of the night. Now it seemed that some creeping, some skittering and scuttling, some unknowable noi
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The original Spooky Boo's Scary Story Time telling spooky, scary stories since 2016. Here you'll find true scary stories, fiction stories, urban legends, creepypasta, and other tall tales from the darkest corners of the internet.
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