Maria had always been a deep sleeper. The kind of sleep that swallowed her whole, pulling her into oblivion the moment her head hit the pillow. But lately, something had been disturbing her nights. Something that had no explanation, no logical reason.
The Shadow in the Corner
It began innocently enough. A shadow in the corner of her room, just out of sight. At first, she convinced herself it was nothing—just a trick of the light or the remnants of a dream. But then it began to happen more frequently. Every night, as she drifted into the deepest part of her slumber, the shadows seemed to grow.
The Unseen Pressure
Then came the pressure.
One night, Maria woke up in the pitch-black darkness, gasping for air. But it wasn’t just the silence of her room that had suffocated her. It was a weight—something pressing down on her chest, making it impossible to breathe. Panic flooded her veins, but she couldn’t move. Her body felt heavy, paralyzed, as if bound by invisible chains. She wanted to scream, to cry out, but her throat was frozen, her mouth dry.
“I can’t breathe,” Maria’s mind screamed, but no words came. “Why can’t I move?”
The Cold Presence
She could feel it. It wasn’t just a physical weight. It was something darker, more malevolent, as if the air around her was thick with a presence. It was there, on top of her, inching closer. Its cold, damp breath seemed to crawl along her neck, whispering in the language of nightmares.
Don’t move, it seemed to say. You can’t move.
The Crawling Terror
Maria’s mind raced, trying to wake up fully, to fight the invisible force that kept her trapped. She could barely manage to breathe, each gasping inhalation pulling in less air, her chest constricting under its weight. The pressure was unbearable. But the worst part wasn’t the suffocating weight—it was the sensation of something crawling onto her. Slowly, it began to climb, its form somehow shifting, its presence growing larger, heavier.
“The man,” Maria realized, panic gripping her heart. “The dark figure is on me.”
The Draining Presence
She couldn’t see him clearly, but she could feel him—like a malignant force wrapped in shadows, his form twisting and stretching like an eerie, contorted silhouette. His hands, cold as death, crawled along her body, his fingers sinking into her chest, draining her warmth, her energy, piece by piece.
With every movement, Maria felt weaker. Her thoughts began to cloud. Time stretched in agonizing slowness. It wasn’t just sleep paralysis anymore—it was something far worse. Something that went beyond nightmares, beyond the boundaries of her mind.
Her body felt like it was being emptied, each breath more shallow than the last. The figure didn’t need to touch her to steal her strength. It wasn’t just sucking the life from her, but from her very soul, feeding off her vulnerability, her terror. She could feel the energy draining out of her like a slow, agonizing leak, as if the man was siphoning her essence. And with every passing second, she could feel herself slipping farther away from reality.
“Help me,” she wanted to scream. “Please, help me.”
But the words wouldn’t form, her body betraying her with its paralysis. She was trapped in her own flesh, imprisoned by this unseen, malevolent force.
The Moment of Relief
The man’s presence lingered, a suffocating, unyielding pressure. He was draining her, pulling her into an abyss of darkness from which there might be no return. The more she fought, the more the pressure increased, as if her resistance only fueled his strength.
And then, just when Maria thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, the weight shifted. The figure—the man—moved away from her chest, his form receding into the corner of the room. For a moment, she thought it was over. She could breathe again. Her body, still weak, trembled as she slowly regained some control.
The Waiting Shadows
But it wasn’t gone. It was waiting.
The shadows in the corner of her room twisted, contorted again, as if the figure was still there, just out of sight. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The man hadn’t left—he was simply biding his time. Waiting for her to fall asleep again.
And the worst part? Maria now knew that it wasn’t just a random nightmare. This wasn’t something her mind had conjured from the depths of her subconscious. No. This was real. And he would return. Every night.
Because the man, the dark figure that drained her energy, didn’t need to physically touch her. He only needed her to fall asleep. And Maria knew, with horrifying certainty, that she would never again sleep in peace.
