TRANSCRIPT: SOMNARIUM. S.020 – Pursuit
Case of Isaac Snider. First seen by Dr. Susan Renwyck on March 18th, 2004, for severe insomnia, recurring nightmares, and escalating fear that he was being followed by an unidentified vehicle.
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INTRO
[HDD spins up]
MADDY
We have to go.
ALEX
No. We don’t.
MADDY
Alex.
ALEX
No, Maddy. I’m serious. We don’t just pack a bag and drive to Noren because May left a breadcrumb.
MADDY
It’s not a breadcrumb. It’s what she wanted me to do next.
ALEX
All of this just sounds like a trap. Even Raynor told us to stay away.
MADDY
She wanted me to find him. She wanted me to find the files. Everything points back to Noren.
ALEX
Everything also points back to people disappearing, dying, or getting dragged into experimental sleep chambers under a research facility.
MADDY
Which is exactly why we need to go.
ALEX
That is the exact opposite of what that means.
MADDY
Alex, May might still be alive.
ALEX
You don’t know that.
MADDY
No. I don’t. But I know she hid that message for a reason. I know she was scared. And I know she found something big enough that someone made her disappear.
ALEX
And your solution is to follow her trail straight into the place she was scared of?
MADDY
My solution is to stop sitting here pretending the answers are going to crawl out of that hard drive if we wait long enough.
ALEX
They kind of have been doing that, actually.
MADDY
Don’t think that joking around is going to get you out of this conversation.
ALEX
I’m not joking around. I’m being alive. I like being alive.
MADDY
So do I.
ALEX
Could’ve fooled me.
[pause]
MADDY
I’m going to Noren.
ALEX
Maddy…
MADDY
With or without you.
ALEX
That’s not fair.
MADDY
No. None of this is fair.
[pause]
ALEX
You really think she’s there?
MADDY
If there’s even a chance, I have to make sure.
And if she isn’t…
[pause]
Well then I’ll give them as much hell as I’ve got in me.
ALEX
And what if it’s a trap?
MADDY
Then it’s a trap.
ALEX
Great. Love that. Very comforting.
[pause]
Ugh.
Fine.
MADDY
Fine?
ALEX
Fine. We’ll go to Noren.
MADDY
Thank you.
ALEX
Don’t thank me yet. I still think this is a terrible idea.
MADDY
You think everything is a terrible idea.
ALEX
Because lately everything has been a terrible idea.
[pause]
Look if I’m going to be risking my life to help you on this, there’s something I need to get off my chest.
MADDY
Oh no.
ALEX
You’ve been here for a few weeks now, and I know I told you you could stay as long as you needed to, but you really have to start picking up after yourself.
MADDY
Excuse me?
ALEX
The coffee cups. The takeout boxes. The cables. The socks.
MADDY
Those are not my socks.
ALEX
They’re definitely not mine.
MADDY
How do you know?
ALEX
Because they were inside a cereal bowl, Maddy.
MADDY
Okay, that one might be mine.
ALEX
And the dishes. I have one sink. One. It is not an archaeological site.
MADDY
Yeah well, I’ve been busy helping you uncover a secret sleep cult.
ALEX
And I appreciate that. But the secret sleep cult does not need three empty energy drink cans on my desk.
MADDY
Wow.
ALEX
What?
MADDY
We’re about to risk our lives driving to Noren, and you’re calling me a slob?
ALEX
I’m saying maybe don’t live like a raccoon with admin privileges.
MADDY
You are such an ass.
ALEX
Thanks.
MADDY
I’m going to the other room before I say something mean.
ALEX
Too late.
[Maddy starts walking away]
ALEX
Wait.
MADDY
What?
[chair creaks / Alex moves closer to the mic]
ALEX
Were you messing around with the hard drive?
MADDY
No. Why?
ALEX
There’s a file open.
MADDY
What file?
ALEX
I don’t know yet. It looks old. 2003… maybe 2004.
MADDY
I didn’t touch anything.
ALEX
You sure?
MADDY
Yes, Alex. Despite my many flaws and alleged cereal-bowl crimes, I did not touch your haunted hard drive.
[pause]
ALEX
Right.
MADDY
Well.
ALEX
Well what?
MADDY
If the spooky hard drive wants you to read something, you better read it. Lest you be cursed for a thousand years!
ALEX
That’s not funny.
MADDY
It’s a little bit funny.
ALEX
It’s really not.
MADDY
I’ll be in the other room.
ALEX
Cleaning?
MADDY
Don’t push it.
[Maddy exits]
[pause]
ALEX
Okay.
[pause]
This file is old. Older than most of the ones we’ve been looking at lately.
The recovered index is damaged, but the date on the first readable page is… March 2004.
And there’s a handwritten note in the margin.
Just one word.
Pursuit.
[pause]
[Alex clears his throat]
Case of Isaac Snider. First seen by Dr. Susan Renwyck on March 18th, 2004, for severe insomnia, recurring nightmares, and escalating fear that he was being followed by an unidentified vehicle.
PATIENT APPLICATION
Applicant: Isaac Snider
Date: March 11th, 2004
Referral: Dr. [REDACTED]
Dear Dr. Renwyck,
My doctor referred me under the assumption that I’m experiencing paranoia.
Let me just start off by saying, that is not the case. I can honestly say I’d rather have it be paranoia than the alternative.
Simply put, lately I’m being followed by a mysterious car with the license plate “PURSUIT”.
I wish I could tell you that I’m playing a prank on you and that this is all a big joke at your expense and my doctor. But unfortunately that’s not the case.
I have to start somewhere, so I’ll just start with this: I deliver packages.
Not in the traditional delivery driver sense. I drive my own car, and none of it is contracted in any way.
All of this started a few months ago, when one of my “shadier” friends asked me to deliver something for him.
Don’t worry, I’m not about to admit to you that I’m secretly a drug trafficker. My friend deals in electronic and mechanical parts, usually obtained by navigating an extremely thin gray line.
It paid well enough, and it wasn’t exactly out of the way, so I figured why not make an extra quick buck? I’d been without a job for about three months at that point and was desperate enough to make any cash.
Then, a few days later, my friend reached out and said one of his clients asked around for a driver that “doesn’t ask any questions”. He said they always paid well, and that I shouldn’t pass up this opportunity if I was strapped for cash.
In hindsight, I should’ve said no then and there and been done with it. As you can guess, I didn’t.
I never met the person who employed me, they just texted me a pickup and delivery address and any additional instructions. Ignoring the instructions would mean no payment. Simple enough.
When I made the first delivery, the person waiting for me handed me a thick brown envelope. To my surprise there was enough cash in there to pay my rent for two whole months, and then some.
Not even a full day passed when I got the next text message. Two addresses, oddly specific instructions, same rate as before.
I was ecstatic, this job was too easy for the money it was paying. All I had to do was drive from point A to point B and follow some oddly specific rules.
When I made the second delivery, I asked the person waiting for me why this job seemed too good to be true. He asked what I meant. I told him why this job was paying this well if it was this easy. He simply responded with: “It’s hard to find trustworthy people who can follow instructions.”
He then proceeded to hand me another thick brown envelope. Another big pay day for only two hours of work. I treated myself to a nice steak dinner afterwards.
This continued for a few weeks, sometimes with a few days between jobs, but always the same simple jobs.
Then about two weeks ago I received the text message that changed everything. Two addresses, oddly specific instructions, double the rate, immediate fulfillment.
This job immediately jumped out as an opportunity to prove myself to my mysterious employer.
So I went. I made it to the pickup address in record time. I was handed a briefcase and was told specifically not to open it and make sure I wasn’t followed. I nodded and took off to make my delivery.
I was about halfway to my destination, when I noticed a car tailing me. It was an older car, all black.
At first I thought it must be a coincidence that whoever this is is taking the same turns as I am.
After roughly 10 minutes of this I decided to test it. I didn’t use my turn signals and sharply took the next turn. My eyes were glued to my rearview mirror and after a few seconds, yep you guessed it, there it was.
My heart sank in my chest and my mind raced to decide what to do next.
In my head there was only one option, so I floored it. The next few minutes felt like an hour, taking sharp turns, running red lights and driving much faster than what I considered safe. But I couldn’t risk anyone following me, like I was instructed.
I don’t know how, but I did it. I lost the car that was following me. Now that it was safe again, I made my way over to the delivery address. Somehow I had driven halfway across town and only now realized I was very close to my destination.
I pulled up and parked, grabbed the briefcase and walked up to the front porch. It was just a regular house.
I was about to ring the doorbell when I remembered the instructions, so I looked up. No lights on, so I couldn’t make the delivery. After all, I wasn’t going to ignore the oddly specific rules now.
I couldn’t deliver it that night.
So I took the briefcase home.
I told myself I would try again the next evening. Same address, same instructions, same simple rule: only ring the bell if the upstairs lights were on.
But the next night, the car was there again.
Same black car. Same headlights. Same relentlessness.
I lost it eventually. I don’t know how. I barely remember half the turns I took. When I finally reached the house, I looked up at the upstairs window.
Still dark.
So I took the briefcase home again.
And that’s when curiosity got the better of me.
So… I opened it.
Inside was an old, ornate arrowhead.
Bet you didn’t see that coming.
At least now I knew I wasn’t secretly a drug trafficker.
That night, I had my first dream about the car.
I dreamt I was driving around town, just taking in the sights of the city when I noticed an old black car following me.
And then the next night… and the next… and the next…
I’ve barely been sleeping since the dreams started. And now, during the day, I swear I can almost catch that car following me in my rearview mirror. Or waiting at the end of the street. Or sitting in front of my house.
There’s one detail I can’t get out of my head. I only saw it clearly once, but I know what I saw.
The license plate.
PURSUIT.
My doctor says it’s paranoia, I just think it’s exhaustion.
Do you think you can help me?
-Isaac Snider
CONSULTATION NOTE
Patient: Isaac Snider
Date: March 18th, 2004
Subject: Initial consultation; recurring nightmares and reported vehicle pursuit
Mr. Snider came in after being referred by his doctor for possible paranoia.
He was defensive about this, but not confused. His account was clear and matched the letter he sent before the appointment.
He says the problem began after a failed courier delivery involving a briefcase. He admits the work was suspicious, but says he was out of money and told himself he was only driving from one address to another.
When asked about the object inside the briefcase, Mr. Snider described an old, ornate arrowhead. I asked whether he still had it. He stated that he delivered it a few days after sending his letter, once the upstairs lights were finally on.
The vehicle he describes is an old black Mustang with dark windows and the license plate PURSUIT. He says he first saw it while carrying the briefcase, and that it followed him through several turns until he panicked and drove recklessly to lose it.
After opening the briefcase, his sleep became much worse.
His nightmares are simple at first. He is driving somewhere ordinary. Home, work, the store. Then he checks the rearview mirror and the Mustang is there.
After that, the dream becomes a chase.
He says the car never has to speed up. It doesn’t swerve or flash its lights. It simply stays behind him, no matter where he turns.
More concerning is that Mr. Snider now reports seeing the same car during the day. Sometimes behind him in traffic. Sometimes parked across the street. Sometimes waiting near the end of a road. Each time, it’s gone before he can get close.
He has reported the plate to police, but says they did not take him seriously. I understand why. A man claiming to be followed by a car with the plate PURSUIT sounds like a prank.
Still, Mr. Snider appears genuinely frightened.
I advised him to stop accepting courier work immediately, avoid driving alone at night, and continue documenting both dreams and waking sightings.
Follow-up scheduled for April 8th, 2004.
SLEEP DIARY
Friday, March 19th, 2004
First night after seeing Dr. Renwyck.
She told me to start writing everything down, especially the dreams and any time I see the car during the day.
So here it is.
I slept badly, but that’s nothing new. Same kind of dream as before. Driving through town, normal streets, normal traffic, and then I check the rearview mirror and there it is.
The Mustang.
Old. Black. Always the same distance behind me.
I woke up before anything really happened, which almost felt like a win.
During the day I went to the supermarket. I needed food, and honestly I needed to do something normal for once. For a little while, it worked. I walked the aisles, bought bread, milk, coffee, a few frozen dinners.
When I stepped back outside, I saw it.
Across the parking lot.
The Mustang was parked near the exit, angled toward the street like it had been waiting there.
I froze.
Then the engine started.
By the time I blinked, it was already pulling away.
I couldn’t see the driver because of the blacked out windows.
There was something on the rear window, though. Some kind of sticker. White, I think.
I couldn’t quite make it out.
Wednesday, March 24th, 2004
The dream was worse last night.
I dreamt I was driving through town again, only this time I knew it was behind me before I even checked the mirror.
The Mustang followed me street after street. I tried taking random turns. Left, right, through side roads, around blocks, past places I recognized and places I didn’t. It didn’t matter.
Every time I looked back, the headlights were there.
It never sped up. It never had to.
It always kept perfect pace.
I finally made a turn so sharp I nearly hit the curb, and for a few seconds the road behind me was empty. I kept driving until I reached my street. Then my house.
I parked in the driveway and sat there with both hands on the wheel, waiting.
Nothing.
No headlights. No black Mustang rolling slowly into view.
I remember feeling relieved. Actually relieved.
I got out, went inside, locked the door, and stood in the hallway listening.
Still nothing.
Then I walked to the front window and looked outside.
The Mustang was parked across the street.
Engine running.
Headlights off.
Just sitting there.
That’s when I shot awake.
And for a second I thought that was it. Just a dream.
Then I heard it outside.
The engine roared to life.
Loud enough to shake the windows.
By the time I got to the front door, I heard tires screeching and a car tearing down the street.
When I opened the door, there was nothing there.
Just the smell of burnt rubber.
Monday, March 29th, 2004
I got another text today.
I had started to dread it, honestly. It had been quiet for a while, and every day without a job just made me feel like the next one was getting closer.
At first I ignored it.
I made coffee. Took a shower. Tried to go about my day like I hadn’t seen the message. But I kept checking my phone anyway, like they might’ve cancelled the job because I didn’t respond.
That wasn’t the case.
Pickup address. Delivery address. Regular rate. No special instructions this time.
Another briefcase.
I told myself I wasn’t going to do it.
I ended up going anyway. Not for the money, I think it was curiosity.
The man who handed it to me was the same one from last time. Big guy. Muscular. Bald head. Didn’t say much beyond confirming my name and telling me where to take it.
This time I noticed something on the side of his neck.
A tattoo.
It looked like an arrowhead.
I must have stared too long, because he turned his head slightly and said, “You done looking?”
I apologized, grabbed the briefcase, and got out of there.
When I stepped back outside, I saw the Mustang turning the corner at the end of the street.
Just for a second.
PURSUIT.
That same plate that’s been following me all over.
I almost turned around and walked right back inside.
But I didn’t.
I got in my car and made the delivery.
No chase this time. No headlights behind me. No engine roar. Nothing.
The feeling of being constantly on edge was somehow worse than being followed.
Like it wanted me to know it had seen me, and that was enough.
Friday, April 2nd, 2004
Another nightmare.
I was making a delivery again. Same routine. Briefcase on the passenger seat. Address in my head. Both hands locked on the wheel.
At first, the Mustang was behind me.
Same distance as always.
I tried not to panic. I told myself to keep driving normally, to not give it a reason to follow closer. But then I made a turn onto a side street, and it wasn’t behind me anymore.
It was in front of me.
Parked at the far end of the road.
Waiting.
I hit the brakes so hard the briefcase flew off the seat and slammed into the front window, leaving behind a big crack.
I reversed, took another turn, and there it was again.
Different street. Same car.
Every way I tried to go, it was waiting. At intersections. At the end of alleys. Parked under streetlights. Sometimes facing me. Sometimes angled toward the curb, like it had only just arrived.
I don’t remember how long I kept driving. Long enough that the streets stopped making sense.
Then I took one turn too fast and nearly hit something. A wall, I think. Or another car. I don’t know.
I jolted awake before impact.
For a moment I just lay there, listening.
Nothing.
No engine. No tires. No headlights through the curtains.
I actually started to calm down.
Then I heard it.
That engine.
Low at first, then roaring like it was right outside.
I couldn’t bring myself to go look.
I just sat there in bed, staring at the bedroom door, waiting for it to fade.
When it finally did, I called the police again.
They asked if this was about the car with the “funny plate.”
That’s how they said it.
The funny plate.
I hung up before I said something stupid.
Thursday, April 8th, 2004
I saw Dr. Renwyck again today.
She asked if I was still doing the jobs.
I lied at first.
Then she just looked at me, waiting, and I told her the truth.
Yes.
I’m still doing them.
I know I should stop. I know that. But the money is too good, and every time I think about quitting, I tell myself the same thing.
One more job.
Just one more.
She asked about the arrowhead again. If I had delivered any “similar” items.
I don’t know why that mattered so much to her.
I had half a mind to tell her about the bald guy with the arrowhead tattoo, but I kept my mouth shut.
She told me not to drive alone at night. Don’t interact with the car and don’t provoke it.
I said I understood.
I meant it too.
Then tonight, I went out anyway.
Not for a job. Just to clear my head. I thought if I drove somewhere normal, somewhere busy, I could remind myself that roads are just roads.
I made it maybe ten minutes before I saw it.
The Mustang was parked under a streetlight outside a closed gas station.
Engine off.
Headlights off.
Just sitting there.
I drove past without looking directly at it.
Then my phone buzzed.
A number I didn’t recognize.
Just one message.
KEEP DRIVING.
I almost threw my phone out the window.
When I looked back in the mirror, the Mustang was behind me.
Closer than it usually is.
I kept driving until I reached home. I don’t even remember half the turns I took.
When I parked, I sat there for a very long time, waiting for it to inevitably pass by.
It didn’t.
It stopped at the end of my street.
I could see it from the driveway.
Then it turned on it’s high beams, pointing straight…at…me…
I ran into the house and locked the door.
I think it’s best if I stay awake tonight.
Tuesday, April 13th, 2004
I’m writing this in the car.
I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour now, maybe longer. I don’t want to keep checking the time.
The last job came three days ago.
Same bald guy. Same look on his face. He handed me a briefcase and a set of coordinates. No address this time. Just a place on a map and one instruction.
Wait until you’re told to move.
So that’s what I did.
I waited.
For three days I waited for another text, another call, anything telling me when I was supposed to bring the package. Nothing came. I barely slept. I barely left the house. Every time a car slowed down outside, I thought it was the Mustang.
Tonight the message finally came.
Go now.
That’s it.
So I drove.
The coordinates led me out near Lake Noren, down a narrow trail on the eastern shore. I don’t even know if this is a real road. It’s barely wide enough for one car. Trees on one side, lake somewhere beyond the dark on the other.
I’m parked at the end of it now.
No house. No lights. No sign. Just trees, dirt, and the sound of water somewhere nearby.
I was told to wait, so I’m waiting.
Figured I might as well write while I still have nothing else to do.
After this, I’m done.
I mean it this time.
I’m taking the money from this job and leaving. Different city. Different name if I have to. I can’t keep living like this, checking mirrors, checking windows, checking every parked car I pass.
The Mustang has been everywhere this past week.
Outside the laundromat. Across from the diner. Behind me at a red light. Parked two blocks from my house like I wouldn’t notice it.
Just watching.
Waiting.
I just got another text.
Same number as last time.
KEEP DRIVING.
No. It’s too late for that now.
I’m not running anymore. I’m in it too deep, and I have to see this through to the end.
There’s a car coming down the trail.
Headlights through the trees.
Finally.
I’m ready to end all of this.
Even though I already know who’s coming.
This is the end of the line.
It’s here.
PURSUIT.
PATIENT RECORD ADDENDUM
Patient: Isaac Snider
Date: April 16th, 2004
Subject: Patient reported missing; police statement
Detective Raynor came by my office this morning with Mr. Snider’s sleep diary.
He made a comment about how strange it was that another missing person had left behind a sleep diary connected to my clinic.
I did not have a useful answer for him.
Attached below is the statement Detective Raynor provided for the file.
POLICE STATEMENT
Mr. Snider’s vehicle was located on the morning of April 14th, after a local fisherman reported an abandoned car blocking access to a narrow service road near the eastern shore of Lake Noren.
The engine was no longer running by the time officers arrived, but the keys were still in the ignition.
The driver’s side door was open.
Mr. Snider’s wallet, jacket, and several personal belongings were still inside the vehicle. His sleep diary was recovered from the passenger seat.
The briefcase mentioned in his final entry was not found.
No blood was visible in or around the vehicle. No obvious signs of a struggle were present.
There was, however, a second set of tire tracks near the scene. Based on depth and position, another vehicle appears to have pulled in behind Mr. Snider’s car before leaving the area.
I asked around the department about prior reports involving a black Mustang and the license plate PURSUIT.
There were several.
None of them were formally investigated.
The reports were treated as pranks due to the plate itself. I understand the reasoning, but given Mr. Snider’s disappearance, I no longer believe that dismissal was appropriate.
A search of the plate returned a registration connected to Briarfield Logistics, a private transport and asset management company.
No vehicle matching the description has been located.
I made several calls regarding Briarfield Logistics. The company appears to be one of several smaller subsidiaries held under…
CONCLUSION
[Maddy storms into the room]
MADDY
I found it.
ALEX
Maddy, I’m recording.
MADDY
Nope. Doesn’t matter.
ALEX
It absolutely matters. I’m at the conclusion of the file.
MADDY
This can’t wait.
ALEX
It can wait five minutes.
MADDY
SRF.
[pause]
ALEX
What?
MADDY
SRF. I found it.
ALEX
Found what?
MADDY
What it stands for.
[pause]
Somnology Research Foundation.
ALEX
Somnology…
MADDY
Research Foundation. Yeah.
ALEX
Okay.
MADDY
And even better…
[pause]
I know where it is.
ALEX
How?
MADDY
Because the idiots put their address on the website.
ALEX
They have a website?
MADDY
Apparently.
ALEX
What’s the link?
MADDY
www.somnologyresearchfoundation.org
[typing]
ALEX
Okay, hold on…
[typing continues]
Yeah. I found it.
[pause]
“Tomorrow begins with better sleep.”
[pause]
That’s not creepy at all.
Holy crap, this place is huge.
They built an entire campus by the lake side.
MADDY
This has got to be the place with the lower levels that May was telling Raynor about.
ALEX
Yeah, it has to be.
MADDY
Well?
ALEX
Well what?
MADDY
Alex.
ALEX
No.
MADDY
Alex.
ALEX
No, no, no, no, don’t do that.
MADDY
We know where it is now.
ALEX
Maddy…
MADDY
It’s in Noren.
[pause]
ALEX
I can see that.
MADDY
…So?
[pause]
ALEX
Ugh.
Fine.
[pause]
I guess we’re going to Noren.
MADDY
Good.
ALEX
But I still think this is a bad idea.
[HDD spins down]