The Worst Kind of Horror Stories

Are the ones that your friends have experienced. I’ve been reading through Andrew’s dreams for the past two days, trying to find the ones that I appear in. There weren’t many, and I only say it’s important because I haven’t seen him in nearly 10 years and there are very little repeating elements at all in his dreams.

I was expecting some sort of betrayal. I thought that if I appeared at all, it would be as a hook for abandonment. I didn’t even say goodbye to him

Instead, I do nothing. Whenever I appear, I just watch silently as he is tortured, ignoring his cries for help. Sometimes I write. I never speak, never help him. I barely even move.

I guess that’s what I do. Nothing.

The Grotesque

“Appears to be a sort of sentient nightmare that infects victims while they sleep. Those who have been attacked by PRE21 often report bizarre and horrifying dreams that left them in a state of terror and unease even after waking. Victims also often develop sleep disorders such as narcolepsy and (most commonly) somnambulism. In certain rare cases, victims have suffered permanent brain damage as a result of an attack.” –via the Archive

This is the most obvious answer to Andrew’s nightmares. Scribe Sigma goes on to talk about circus motifs in dreams, but I didn’t see any of that in Andrew’s dream logs.

But it seems like Andrew thought of the same thing I did. That word document I mentioned? It was a list of words. After going through some more of his notebooks, I realized that they were all things that appeared at least twice in his dreams.

Most of them were very vague and common nightmare fodder: shadows, blood, death, hopelessness.

But the word at the very bottom is the one that disturbed me the most. It was my name.

Why the fuck was I in Andrew’s nightmares?

Serious Pants Are On

I'm sorry that last post got... emotional. I didn't want that to happen. I promise it will be all straight-faced researcher from here on out.

While I was in Andrew's room, I found a bunch of notebooks of his. Apparently his councilor wanted him to write down each of the nightmares he was having. They’re all really long and detailed. The first one is from only a few months ago, but he’s got at least five notebooks overflowing with the gory details of his subconscious. I read a few of them, but there was no way I was going to get through all of them.

And I thought my nightmares were bad.

He also hadn’t shut down or locked his computer, so I was able to poke around on that as well. There were a couple more of his dreams recorded on there. I’m assuming he got tired of writing them all by hand. Most of his browser’s history is dedicated to dream interpretation websites. There were even a few forums where he talked about his dreams.

He also seemed to know about the Fears.

He visited several blogs regularly… Including mine. Jesus, he probably didn’t even realize who I am. To think he was that close.

Right. Straight-faced researcher.

I found a Word document on his desktop that I’m still trying to figure out. I’ll post what I’ve managed to interpret tomorrow.

Research

After a lot of gentle prodding, Mr. and Mrs. Mason let me poke around Andrew's room. I wanted to see if there was anything that would give me an idea of what he was going through.

It was odd. I remember that room from when I was a kid, but it's so different now. Still spotless, he was always a neat-freak. Whenever I came over to his house to play, he always made sure that we picked up each of his toys and put them in their respective spots when we were done.

It seems he got into football, though. I wasn't expecting that. He was a scrawny little kid when I knew him. From what I've seen in pictures and my... dream... he gained some muscle since then. He also turned into a huge otaku (he even had these figurines all over his bookcase). That I expected.

Fuck... I should have called him or something.

He was my best friend and I haven't spoken to him in years.

Chapter 4: Andrew Mason

I talked to Andrew's parents today, claiming that I was coming through the area and decided to drop by for old time's sake. They're devastated. He was their only child, and they blame themselves for his death.

Apparently he'd been going to a councilor for months because of these night terrors that plagued him. They'd thought about him being suicidal before, but they never really thought that he actually was. The gun cabinet was supposed to be locked, though. Mr. Mason never leaves it unlocked and never keeps any of his guns loaded.

There's not really a lot I can do here, but I want to see if I can find any evidence of exactly what was happening to Andrew before he died. He at least deserves to have his story told.

The Full Story

In case you were wondering why I knew that house... I used to live here. Not in the house. The people that live there were once my next-door neighbors. That kid that just committed suicide was once my best friend.

I was hoping it wasn't true.

I was hoping that that story was just my imagination messing with me.

If what I wrote really is completely true, I think one of the Fears was behind this.

This entire situation is just surreal. I haven't spoken to Andrew in years... I wouldn't have recognized him if it hadn't been for that house.
I've failed yet another friend

The White Hosue

I'm still not telling you guys where I am, but I'll say that it took me about 7 hours to get to the house. It was kind of like Supernatural season one, episode 14. The one in which Sam has that premonition about that guy dying, but when they finally get to the house, it's already surrounded by cops and spectators.

Actually, it was exactly like that.

That... thing I wrote was what actually happened in that house. I arrived as the ambulance drove off with the body and the spectators started to dissipate. I managed to get the story from someone as they were leaving. A 16-year-old kid blew his brains out with his father's shotgun.