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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/zeberia321 on 2024-09-09 13:04:44+00:00.

I’ve had sleep paralysis before. If you’ve never experienced it, count yourself lucky. It’s terrifying. You wake up, but your body won’t move. You’re frozen, stuck inside your own head, helpless. Usually, it comes with hallucinations—shadows creeping along the walls, whispers just outside your hearing. But at least, I always thought, it’s all in my head.

Last night, I learned I was wrong.

IIt started like any other sleep paralysis episode. I woke up, and immediately, I knew I couldn’t move. My room was dark, the familiar sense of dread creeping over me. I told myself it was fine, that it would pass, just like every other time. I couldn’t even blink, but I could see the faint outline of my room—the dresser, the chair by the window, the door slightly opened.

Then I heard it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The tapping was followed by a faint rustling sound, barely noticeable. Than it grew louder and closer.

My eyes were struggling to make out shapes in the dark, and that’s when I saw it — a hand, pale and thin, sliding out from under my bed.

My heart pounded in my chest, but I still couldn’t move. It was just a hallucination, I thought, repeating it over and over like a mantra. It wasn’t real. Except… the hand was still there. Long, bony fingers wrapped around the edge of my bedframe, followed by an arm, and then a head.

I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. I was trapped, unable to move as it got closer. It felt real, too real. It wasn’t a shadowy figure like I’d seen in previous episodes. It was something else.

The figures skin was grayish, almost translucent, eyes too wide, too black. The gray figure crawled slowly, pulling itself out from under my bed.The thing stopped at the side of my bed, its face inches from mine. Its breath was cold and I could smell something foul — like rotting meat. It watched me for what felt like hours, and I couldn’t do anything but stare back, tears streaming down my face.

Then something changed, it smiled.

The smile was grotesque, stretching far beyond what any human mouth should. Its lips cracked as they curled up, revealing rows of sharp, uneven teeth, almost glowing in the dark. The corners of its mouth twitched, as if it was straining to hold the expression, forcing its face into this grotesque display of joy. The longer I stared, the wider its smile grew, until it took over its entire face, pulling the skin tight and exposing dark, empty gums beneath.

Slowly, it reached out a hand. As its hand crept toward me , I could hear each knuckle cracking faintly as its pale, bony fingers extended. The skin, mottled and slick with a thin sheen of moisture, looking like a piece of meat left out in the cold for too long—gray, clammy, and shriveled. When it touched my cheek, its fingers felt like ice-cold leather, damp and unsettling. The chill seeped into my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. The moment its touch registered, a violent shock jolted through me, snapping me out of the paralysis. I could move. I gasped, jerking upright in bed.

I scrambled back against the headboard, my chest rising and falling in enevan breaths. My eyes darted around the room, wide with panic, until I realized something. It was gone. The room was silent, no sign of the creature, no sound, no movement. I sat there for hours, afraid to even breathe, my eyes locked on the space beneath my bed. But still, nothing came.

I didn’t sleep again that night.

Today, as I am writing this, I tried convincing myself it was just another episode of sleep paralysis. Just my mind playing tricks on me. But when I got home from work, something I felt as if something was off. I don’t know how to describe it, but the air felt colder, heavier, like the temperature had dropped drasticly in one moment to the other. The atmosphere in the house seemed denser, almost as if the very space was thick with an oppressive weight that was pressing down on me.

I couldn’t ignore it. Something came over me, I had a feeling, no this urge to check my room, almost like an magnetic pull, as if a part of me knew something was waiting there, something that needed to be known. It was an relentless feeling, gnawing at my mind, driving me to confront whatever I had hoped was just a figment of my imaginiation.

I should have known better, but despite every rational thought, telling me to stay away, to turn around, I just couldnt. This overwelhming urge that I had to see it for myself, pulled me closer toward my bedroom.

And there it was.

A single, long, gray finger resting on the floor, waiting for me to find it.