TRANSCRIPT: SOMNARIUM. S.006 – Right Behind Me

Case of Alyssa Grant. First seen by Dr. Susan Renwyck on November 17th, 2005 for PTSD, severe insomnia, and reported inability to dream following a prolonged period of stalking and harassment by a former partner.

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S.006 – Right Behind Me

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PATREON

Hi, this is Alex.

Before we dive into today’s episode I’d like to say thanks to our patrons.

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Enjoy today’s episode.

INTRO

I… I almost quit. I almost stopped making these recordings.

After what happened, I was afraid to turn the hard drive back on. Afraid to even look at it.

Because whatever that was… it wasn’t just in the file. It wasn’t just in my head. It was here. Linked to the drive somehow, like flipping the switch gave it a door.

I keep trying to make it make sense, and I can’t. Not fully.

But I know this much.

I’m not insane. I’m not imagining things. I’m not “hearing” what I want to hear.

What happened was real.

You all heard part of it.

But here’s my account of that night — and what came after.

I had just finished reading out the case file of Reginald Anderson when I received a notification on my computer.

A new file popped up. DONT_LOOK.txt.

The same file I had been seeing in my dreams.

I clicked it away and it popped up again, and again, and again.

The hard drive was trying to tell me something. Was it warning me?

That’s when the door creaked open behind me. As soon as I heard it, my entire body filled with fear. Pure dread, brought on by an unknown force.

And when the whispers started, I froze. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

Of course I couldn’t scream. That thing had stolen my ability to speak. To terrorize me using my own voice. “Don’t look,” it whispered, in a voice that almost sounded like my own.

And then a different voice came. A distorted amalgamation of voices that called out to me.

Called out my name. Alex.

I could feel its presence behind me. I could feel it looming over me. It was so tall, its shadow nearly reached the ceiling on the wall in front of me.

I didn’t look at it. I mean, it’s not like I could. I couldn’t move.

But I could see its glowing red eyes in the vague, dark reflection of my monitor.

And when it demanded I look at it, I could feel it slowly turning my chair.

It wasn’t until the hard drive screamed out in error that I could move again, and I immediately yanked the power cord.

And then…

It was quiet again.

It was gone.

When I finally composed myself, I knew exactly what to do.

I was going to get rid of it.

Whatever mystery was hidden here, it wasn’t worth it.

Why did I take that hard drive? Nothing that’s come out of it has been worth it.

Maybe some things are better left buried.

Anyway, it’s too late now. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of it.

I tried to throw it out, but my own hands wouldn’t allow me to.

I tried to sleep, but I kept having the same dream. The same dream I’ve had for a while now.

Sitting at my desk, staring at a blank, empty file called DONT_LOOK.txt.

Only now the dream is different. I don’t move. I mean, I can’t. And I can see its glowing red eyes in the reflection of my monitor.

I can still faintly hear the whispers, though I can’t make out what they say.

And when my chair starts to turn, I jolt awake.

When I finally fall asleep again, the nightmare starts over.

File. Paralysis. Chair. Wake up.

I wasn’t going to turn the drive back on. I couldn’t risk unleashing that monster again.

Days passed. I don’t know how many. But I made some excuse at work that a relative had died and I had to travel for the funeral. I just booked some vacation days without thinking.

For so long, I sat there at my desk, unable to sleep. Waiting to muster up the courage to get rid of this damn hard drive.

And then…

I received an email.

Whoever sent it knew more. That I’m sure of.

The email address it came from was “[email protected]”.

And it just read:

“It won’t stop.

Continue sharing your investigation and the nightmares will end.

This next case will be of particular interest to you.

Don’t forget.

We are listening.”

The message had an attachment.

Not a link. Not some scam or prank. An actual file.

A case file. Or part of it at least. The drive had given me the other half weeks ago.

It was labeled like the ones on the drive. Same naming. Same formatting. Like it had been pulled straight out of Dr. Renwyck’s archive.

I didn’t open it right away. I just stared at the filename, waiting for the usual doubt to kick in.

But it didn’t.

Because if whoever sent that email had access to her archive…

Then the hard drive isn’t the only thing I should be afraid of.

At the bottom of the email was some kind of glyph. Or a logo.

Reverse image search revealed absolutely nothing useful.

I’ll share it off-record. Check the notes. Maybe someone else can figure out what it means.

As you can guess by now, the nightmares stopped as soon as I started up the drive again.

It’s almost impossible to deny that it has a certain hold on me. But I guess whatever this is, it’s too late now. I’m going to see this through.

Anyway, they weren’t lying. The next case is… interesting, to say the least. Though it brings up more questions than it does answers.

E-MAIL REFERRAL

From: Dr. [REDACTED]
To: Dr. Susan Renwyck [E-MAIL REDACTED]
Subject: Referral Request – Alyssa Grant

Dear Dr. Renwyck,

I am writing to refer a patient, Alyssa Grant, for further evaluation and management of persistent sleep disturbance following a prolonged period of stalking/harassment by a former partner.

Ms. Grant presents with severe insomnia, hypervigilance, and PTSD symptoms. She reports a complete inability to dream since the onset of her current presentation. She describes her sleep as non-restorative even when she is able to obtain adequate duration.

I have attempted first-line interventions within my scope (sleep hygiene counseling, stabilization of schedule, and standard pharmacologic options as tolerated), as well as screening for common comorbidities. However, her treatment has remained ineffective, and the absence of any reported dream mentation is atypical in my experience.

My clinic does not have access to the specialized sleep lab equipment and extended monitoring capabilities that your practice is known to employ, and I believe her case would benefit from a comprehensive workup under your supervision (including polysomnography with additional measures as indicated).

Ms. Grant has not kept a sleep diary. Her history is primarily narrative, and she has retained a detailed account of the precipitating events and subsequent sleep changes, which she is prepared to share directly.

Please let me know if you are able to accept this referral. I can forward prior notes and relevant records upon request.

Sincerely,

[REDACTED]

INTAKE TRANSCRIPT

Patient: Alyssa Grant
Date: November 17th, 2005
Subject: In-practice intake; transcription of tape recording

Transcript of Ms. Grant’s personal account of the events leading up to her insomnia and inability to dream.

Right where do I start? Hmmm… Right, Andrew.

It all started last summer, at the beginning of July.
Andrew and I had been dating for about a year at that point and honestly if it wasn’t for his family we probably would still be together now. I mention his family because it matters.

Andrew Blackwell, of the Blackwell family. One of the richest families around these parts. They own basically half of this city’s buildings. And that’s not a guess, they actually told me so in a way where they just brushed over owning property worth billions.

It’s not the fact that they actually are that rich that matters, it’s the condescending way in which they communicate it to you that does.

Anyway, Andrew was more down-to-earth than the rest of his family. He still received quite an allowance to do with what he pleased. But he was never bragging about his money. For all the money he received he probably put most of it in his passion, art. Andrew aspired to be a famous painter and, since he didn’t have to work, spent almost all of his time that wasn’t spent on me on painting.

I wasn’t interested in his money, or his parents’ money to be clear. It was never about the money for me. I loved Andrew for who he was, and for his passion.

But no, in the end, it was his family that was too much for me. Andrew was very close to his parents and as such we went to dinner nearly every week. But being there was absolute torture.

His father barely said anything to me and looked at me like I wasn’t even good enough to be one of his household staff.

His mother on the other hand, was relentless in her attempts to embarrass me. Andrew always laughed it away as teasing and told me not to worry, but some of the things she said were really too much.

Anyway, that doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

We returned to my apartment late on a Friday evening after I received yet another scolding from his mother for not being good enough for her precious son.

I told Andrew it was too much, I couldn’t do it anymore. I told him I wasn’t going to make him choose between me and his family. I’d make that choice.

So I ended things right then and there. And honestly, he took it well. He wasn’t angry, he understood. He said he knew his family was special. And that he didn’t blame me.

Before he turned to leave, he told me one last time that he was proud that I stood my ground.
That’s something that he used to say often. No matter what happens, to not let people walk over me and stand my ground. I guess it was some kind of family motto or something.

After that, he left.

I didn’t see or hear him again for two weeks. Not a single text message or anything.

When I got home from work he was there at my apartment door, waiting for me. He was holding a box of things that belonged to me, that I had left at his loft. It was harmless, really.

I thanked him and sent him on his way.

The day after it started. I woke up to a text message. “I miss you”

I read it, but didn’t respond. By noon I had six more text messages.
“I still love you”, “Please take me back”, stuff like that.

That evening he showed up at my door again, he begged and pleaded for me to take him back. That without me he couldn’t realize his dreams. I guess he meant that I was his muse and that his painting wasn’t going well.

I told him to leave me alone and that if he didn’t leave I’d call the police.

He left, but it didn’t take long before he started calling and texting me obsessively.

I sent him back once. I told him that if he valued what we had that he should stop and leave it alone. It was time for him to move on.

He stopped calling and texting after that.

But then, it got so much worse.

I was out one evening with my friends trying to clear my mind of everything related to Andrew and for a while it really worked.

We were at a club when I first noticed him. Nearly out of sight, staring at me from within the crowd. I told my friends I wanted to leave, but they weren’t done for the night.

I didn’t want anything to do with Andrew so… I left.

I had too much to drink at that point, so I decided to walk home.

As soon as I left, I noticed Andrew also left and started following me.
I knew he was following me. This wasn’t a coincidence.

I turned onto the next street and yep there he was following me.
When I got to my street I turned the corner and waited for him there. Not even thirty seconds later he also turned the corner and I was now suddenly face to face with him.

I told him once, sternly, that if he didn’t leave me alone and stop following me that I’d involve the police.

With an unsettling grin he said just one thing: “I’m so proud that you’re standing your ground.”

I turned and ran. The door to my building was right across the street.

I didn’t hear his footsteps following me this time. When I got to the door, I paused and listened because I was too afraid to look.

And then I heard it… one, two. Two steps. I could almost feel him breathing down my neck.

In pure horror, I turned my head. He was right behind me. Somehow he had crossed the road in two steps.

I rushed inside and locked the door behind me, then slid down against the frame.
Just sobbing. Trying to catch my breath.

When I finally got the courage to get up, I checked the blinds and he was across the street again. Exactly where he was before I ran.

I called the police at that point and they showed up shortly after. They stood there, talking to him for nearly half an hour. I know because I counted the minutes.

When Andrew finally left, the police rang my doorbell and told me they’d sent him on his way but there was nothing more they could do. Of course they couldn’t. They told me, in not so many words, to leave the Blackwells alone or they wouldn’t be able to help me any further.

That night, I had my first dream.

I was in a city I didn’t recognize. Buildings and stores with unreadable signs. Endless streets and dark alleyways.

But most vividly, what I remember is that the city didn’t have a sky. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, but where the sky was supposed to be was just black. Not a ceiling, not an empty night sky. Just pitch black, as if whatever was up there absorbed all the light.

Even though there was no sky, it wasn’t dark. And even though there was no visible light it was bright. Like an office building with those artificial lights.

I walked around aimlessly at first, trying to find a way out of that place. But every corner I turned, every alley I took, every door I went through just led me to more of the same.

And then, I heard it. Footsteps, behind me. When I stopped and turned around, there was no one there. But when I started walking again the footsteps resumed.

Week after week, I explored that place in my dreams. And night after night the footsteps grew closer.

Until one night, I stopped and turned. And where there used to be an empty street behind me, now, off in the distance, I saw Andrew. With that same unsettling grin I had seen before.

My heart sank into my stomach and before I knew it, I was running.

The dreams became nightmares then and at that point it happened nightly.

And then, I started losing sleep. When I was in my bed, I was running away from Andrew.
And when I was awake, I was avoiding him.

Early September I think is when the first hallucinations started. I call them hallucinations because they can’t have been real. And I was having so little sleep at that point that I wouldn’t be surprised at all that I had been hallucinating. I started hearing footsteps behind me, wherever I was. Every time I checked there was nothing there. But at the same time, every time I checked, it felt like I was acknowledging there was something there.

After a while when I heard the footsteps I was just convinced it was Andrew following me.
When I heard the footsteps I never saw him. But when I didn’t I could see him in the distance trying to blend in.

We hadn’t spoken after the encounter with the police, but I knew he was still stalking me. I saw him often enough from a distance to confirm it.

Weeks went by and both during the night and during the day Andrew kept getting closer and closer and closer and closer.

And then, one day I remembered what he always used to say.

Always stand your ground.

So that night, I stopped running. I stood still, turned around and looked at him.
He was now so close that I could almost reach out and touch him.

I took a deep breath and I said.

I’m not running

A gust of wind suddenly hit me from the back, running shivers up my spine. And I felt kind of dizzy.
And then, like water rippling, Andrew changed.

Where just a moment ago Andrew was standing, there was now a different man.
He looked like a gamekeeper, timeless.

A huntsman? Or a ranger?

He smiled and reached out to me.

He opened his hand and revealed a small arrowhead. He stood there expecting me to take it.

And when I did, I woke up.

I felt a sharp pain in my hand and when I turned over to look, I was now clutching that same arrowhead. It was embedded enough to leave a crescent of blood in my palm.

And that’s when I knew it was over. I checked the window and there he was. Andrew.

With my newfound courage, I rushed out the door, into the streets and just as I expected Andrew was there.

I shouted at him to leave me alone and that I wasn’t running away anymore.

When he saw I was bleeding from my hand he got that unsettling grin again.

And then he said: “I see you finally stood your ground, I’m so proud of you.”

And then… he left. And I didn’t see Andrew again after that.

It was over, it was finally over.

But… whatever had happened. Left me with the inability to dream.
I don’t sleep much anymore, but I also don’t have any hallucinations.
I just… lie there, resting my body.

I brought the arrowhead with me, to prove I didn’t imagine it.
You can keep it, I don’t want it anymore.

CONSULTATION NOTE

Patient: Alyssa Grant
Date: November 17th, 2005
Subject: In-practice intake; initial thoughts; intake for further testing

Ms. Grant presents following a prolonged period of stalking and harassment by a former partner. She describes persistent hypervigilance, heightened startle response, and avoidance behaviors consistent with post-traumatic stress symptoms. Sleep is markedly disrupted with prolonged sleep onset latency, frequent nocturnal awakenings, and non-restorative sleep. She reports a complete absence of dream mentation since an acute shift in symptoms approximately five to six weeks prior to today’s visit, describing sleep as “black,” with no nightmares, neutral dreams, or imagery recalled on awakening.

Ms. Grant provided a detailed narrative account during intake. She denies keeping a sleep diary. She reports prior episodes of perceived footsteps and a sense of being followed while awake during a period of significant sleep deprivation, which she describes as resolving after the onset of dreamlessness. She reports continued insomnia and daytime fatigue.

Patient produced and relinquished one physical object described as an arrowhead reportedly found in her hand upon awakening on the night of symptom shift. Object logged as A-1. The object appears to be stone, triangular in profile, with edge wear consistent with age or repeated handling. There are shallow inscriptions along one face resembling cuneiform; I do not recognize the script or its origin on gross inspection. Patient requested it be retained by clinician due to distress associated with possession and a desire to dissociate from reminders of the events described.

My initial impression is that Ms. Grant’s sleep is being driven by a prolonged state of fear and alertness. The insomnia and daytime exhaustion fit with that. What is unusual is the sudden, complete change in her sleep experience after the event she describes: the nightmares stop, but so does all dream content. That pattern is not typical, and it is not something I am comfortable accepting purely on description without objective testing. At minimum, we need to determine whether she is no longer entering REM sleep, whether REM is present but she is unable to recall any mentation, or whether her sleep is fragmenting in a way that prevents normal dreaming.

Ms. Grant will be kept in clinic for comprehensive testing. We will begin with an overnight sleep study with extended monitoring (brain activity, eye movement, and muscle tone), along with any additional measures as needed based on what we see. If she enters REM sleep, we will use brief, timed awakenings to check for any dream mentation and compare her reports across the night. If the inpatient results are unclear, we may add longer-term monitoring of sleep-wake patterns outside the clinic. Prior notes and records will be requested from the referring clinician. A formal treatment plan will be determined once testing is complete and results have been reviewed.

Follow up once testing is complete.

FOLLOW-UP NOTE

Patient: Alyssa Grant
Date: Tuesday, November 22nd, 2005
Subject: Post-testing review; insomnia and reported inability to dream

Ms. Grant remained in clinic for comprehensive testing following initial intake. During extended monitoring, her sleep appeared otherwise stable and physiologically unremarkable, with no evidence of a primary breathing-related sleep disorder and no concerning abnormalities on gross neurologic screening during wakefulness. The notable finding is the repeated absence of REM sleep. There were no sustained periods consistent with REM initiation, and no associated activity patterns typically seen during dreaming. This aligns with Ms. Grant’s description of sleep as “pitch black” with no imagery or narrative content, including during brief awakenings.

I have not observed a presentation like this in my practice, particularly with the abrupt onset Ms. Grant describes. While hyperarousal and fragmented sleep can reduce REM opportunity, the pattern here is more pronounced than would be expected based on sleep disruption alone.

Ms. Grant continues to report severe insomnia and non-restorative sleep, with persistent daytime exhaustion. Given the level of impairment, she is being sent home with medication as a temporary measure intended to improve sleep continuity and reduce arousal at night. This is a band-aid, not a resolution. The immediate goal is to prevent further sleep debt while we broaden the workup and continue observation.

Further neurologic testing and imaging have been ordered to exclude structural or neurologic contributors to the sudden change in REM physiology and mentation report. Ms. Grant is scheduled to complete these studies within the next week. Follow-up is planned once those results are available and can be discussed in context of her sleep testing.

Object A-1 has been moved to a separate location for further evaluation and will not be stored with routine materials at this time.

ADDENDUM

Date: Thursday, December 1st, 2005
Ms. Grant did not attend scheduled follow-up and did not respond to attempted contact. Given the severity of her symptoms and recent testing findings, I requested a welfare check through Detective Raynor.

Welfare check completed. Residence found empty. No signs of forced entry or struggle reported. Ms. Grant has been reported missing. Case placed on hold pending location of patient and availability of outstanding neurologic testing results, which have not yet been reviewed in-session with Ms. Grant.

CONCLUSION

Another disappearance…

A city with no sky? Her description was too vivid to be a random detail in a dream.

But… it was just a dream, right?

And that arrowhead, how is it real? What does it mean?

I have more questions than answers now.

I need to think.

[long pause]

No… I need to lie down.

I’m too tired.

OUTRO PLAYS