Chapter 2: Shadows on the Bunk Bed
But that night, Maya went to bed early again.
She climbed up to her bunk, yawning, and pulled the covers over her head. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help it.
I was nervous about sleeping in the lower bunk.
Every time I looked up, I half-expected her to start mumbling again. My nerves were shot, and I couldn’t relax.
Tessa wandered over, smirking:
"It’s fine, Savannah, just go to sleep. If you’re still worried, get a rope tomorrow. Maya sleeps like a log. When I had the lower bunk, I just tied her ankle to the bedpost so she wouldn’t wander."
She grinned, but her eyes said she wasn’t completely kidding. The idea made my skin crawl.
I stared at her. That sounded like a bit much.
"Seriously?" I whispered. "Isn’t that, like, illegal?"
Besides, she’s my roommate; that just felt wrong.
I pictured Maya waking up tied to the bed, and the thought made me cringe. There had to be a better way.
So I just tried to tough it out and fall asleep before lights out.
I popped in my earbuds, played some calming music, and hoped for the best.
For the first half of the night, I was still jumpy. Sleep wouldn’t come.
Every little noise made me flinch. I kept checking the clock, counting down the minutes until sunrise.
Eventually, exhaustion took over. I curled up and finally drifted off.
Sleep found me, but it was restless—full of weird, half-remembered dreams.
Not long after, I heard the bed frame creaking above me.
At first it was faint, then louder—rhythmic, like someone shifting their weight up there.
I peered toward the edge of the bed, heart hammering.
The moonlight was brighter now, spilling across the floor. I squinted, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
In the glow, I saw a pair of legs dangling from the top bunk.
They swung back and forth, almost like someone was bored. My breath caught.
A pair of white socks stood out in the dark!
They glowed, impossibly bright in the gloom.
It had to be Maya, sleepwalking again!
Who else could it be? My hands trembled as I reached for my phone.
Hearing the creak, I wanted to wake her up—
I hesitated, remembering Brianna’s warning. Still, I couldn’t just lie there and do nothing.
But as soon as I sat up, the legs vanished.
There was a rush of cold air, and then—nothing. The room went dead quiet.
I reached up and patted Maya. She just rolled over with a groan, still out cold.
She yanked the blanket tighter, mumbling something I couldn’t make out.
But when she kicked off her blanket, my heart leapt into my throat.
Her feet were bare, toes wiggling as she drifted back to sleep.
I stared at her feet, then at the spot where those white socks had been. My pulse raced.
"What are you looking at?" Maya snapped, making me jump so hard I nearly fell out of bed.
Her voice was sharp, almost angry. I scrambled back, heart pounding.
She was already sitting up, kneeling on her bed with her hands clasped tight, like she was praying.
Her posture was stiff, unnatural. She looked like she was bracing for something awful.
We locked eyes—her eyes were pitch black.
No whites, no color—just endless darkness. It felt like staring into a void, and it made my skin crawl.
I was so terrified I wanted to scream, but nothing came out.
I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight, and all I could do was gasp for air.
Maya crawled across her bed toward me, her face getting closer, her movements slow and deliberate.
Each inch she closed, I felt more paralyzed, unable to move or even look away.
Until her mouth brushed my ear, her voice colder than ice:
"If you don’t want to die, go to sleep now!"
Her breath sent chills racing down my spine. The words hit me like a curse.
"They’re coming!"
Her whisper was barely there, but it echoed in my skull.
I swallowed hard, mouth dry, heart hammering.
They?
The word bounced around inside my head, making me dizzy.
Who are they?
I wanted to ask, but Maya’s words felt like they had some kind of power over me.
It was like a weight pressing me down, making it impossible to speak.
I slowly turned over, slid back under the covers, and pulled the blanket up to my chin.
My hands shook as I tucked the sheets in tighter. I tried to convince myself this was just a nightmare.
I pressed my arms tight to my sides. I couldn’t move.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could disappear.
My eyelids got heavier and heavier until everything went black.
Sleep crashed over me like a wave. I didn’t even have time to be afraid anymore.
But weirdly, my sense of touch went into overdrive.
I could feel every thread in the sheets, the rough seam in the pillowcase, the weight of the blanket pressing down.
Every little bit of cotton felt sharp and real.
It was almost painful—like every nerve was on fire.
Soon, I felt like I was sinking into something thick and sticky.
It was as if the mattress was swallowing me whole, dragging me down into darkness.
It felt like I was drowning in it.
The air pressed in from all sides. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.
But when Maya said, "Sleep," I went under instantly.
The world went dark. I was gone.













