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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/mclarke77 on 2024-09-14 03:14:44+00:00.

The nightmare started over a month ago when I heard my husband mumble, “He’s standing in the garden. He’s looking in the window”. It must have been two in the morning. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. You could set your watch by him. At that time my sleep had been  disturbed regularly by Daryl’s sleepwalking and sleep-talking. And sometimes sleep-yelling. He’d never done anything like that before. It had just started out of the blue about three days prior to that night. That night, when he was whispering. Mumbling while he dreamt. His voice was low and hushed, “He’s trying to get inside.” I couldn’t help but look over at the curtained windows. I imagined that if I pulled the curtains aside I’d see a ghostly hand pressed up on the windowpane.  

The little hairs on my neck stood on end.  

I shook my husband awake. He jolted like he’d just tripped over something and his eyes shot open. He breathed heavily but quickly came to. “Was I talking again?” he asked, out of breath. Sweat beaded his forehead. “Yea, it just keeps getting creepier.” My eyes were wide. He looked over at me, his face tired. “Was it the guy in the garden?” I nodded. “Yea, you said he was trying to look through the windows.” He rubbed his eyes and replied, “I can’t remember really. It’s so vivid while I’m asleep but as soon as I’m awake it just slips away.” I rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him. “Let’s try and get back to bed. We need to pick up Jacob early.” He nodded and got out of bed to fetch some water and a melatonin pill. I drank the rest of some cold chamomile tea I’d not finished the night before. Then we went back to bed. It was about three in the morning when we fell back to sleep. 

At seven o’clock the next morning my alarm rang loud and shrill. I kept my eyes closed as I fumbled for it and hit the snooze button. By seven thirty we were up and on our way to the train station. Jacob was waiting for us with a large suitcase and an old, worn backpack. Jacob was our nephew. He was a scrawny guy with dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Jacob had just started his final year at university and was studying zoology. He was considering starting veterinary school after his bachelor’s degree was done and was visiting schools around the country. Daryl and I lived near a large veterinary hospital and school so Jacob had come by to see if it was any good. He knew we were in the area and so he’d decided to stay with us in the meantime. His eyes were dark and exhausted as we pulled up. “How was the train?” I asked as he climbed into the back seat. Daryl loaded Jacob’s suitcase into the trunk and got back into the driver’s seat. “Delayed. And uncomfortable. I was just managing to get some sleep right as I arrived. Figures.” Jacob said, his voice irritable and feeble. 

“Well you can get plenty of rest at the house. It’s quiet at the moment with everyone away for the holidays. The family of four next door is in Ecuador.” We continued to chat as Daryl drove us home. Jacob mentioned he was excited to check out the school and would leave to take a tour the next day. I asked Daryl to drive him but Jacob said he’d rather take the bus so he could get to know the area better.  

The day after that was Sunday so we slept in and had breakfast food for lunch. After that, Jacob left for the bus stop. Daryl and I did some chores and then we sat down to read. The air was peaceful and quiet. I remember it was the last time I had felt relaxed. Felt normal and comfortable in my own home. The day had been warm and bright and sunbeams illuminated small motes of dust in the air. Pretty soon Daryl and I both fell asleep on the couch, leaning against one another. Suddenly there was a loud shout and I sat up my eyes wide and suddenly very awake. Daryl was sitting up straight his chest heaving heavily with breath. “That – that was a bad one,” he panted. “What happened? Why did you shout?” I asked my hand on my chest. “I was dreaming. About that guy again. Except he wasn’t alone this time. This time he was with a woman. They were standing just outside.” He turned to look at the window. “They - They were throwing roc-” Out of nowhere there was the deafening shatter of glass. 

I yelled. 

Daryl leapt to his feet in fright. 

I glanced down at the floor. 

Among a pile of broken glass lay a single rock. It was small, dark and smooth as glass. As soon as I looked at it I felt a cold trail of gooseflesh  run down my neck and arms. There was something so unnatural about that rock. It looked artificially polished. Daryl and I ran to the window, carefully avoiding the shards. There was nothing outside save my front yard. My petunias and crane lilies waved gently in the breeze. No one was standing there. The air was thick with silence. All the neighbors were still away on holiday.  

Daryl and I looked at one another, our eyes searching each other’s expressions for some kind of explanation. I was hoping Daryl would declare himself the mastermind of this terrifying practical joke. But no confessions came. “Must be kids playing a prank” he said as he cleaned the glass and tossed the stone into the yard. But his face was still white and his hands trembled. He wasn’t quite convinced.  

Later that same evening Jacob returned from his sightseeing and was thrilled. We decided not to tell Jacob about what had happened and Daryl, being a very proficient engineer, had already replaced the window pane that afternoon. Jacob couldn’t stop going on about the facilities and the local cafes. We were happy for him as we ordered pizza and watched some silly romcoms.  

We all went to bed at around midnight. As I lay in bed and turned off my light I couldn’t help but look over at the curtained windows momentarily. The curtains hung ruby red and still as stone. Was there someone standing outside? I shivered as I rolled over in bed and cuddled up close to my husband. I was glad to have my back to the window.  

I felt like I’d just closed my eyes when I was disturbed. I had turned over while half asleep and found myself suddenly alone in bed. It’s always disconcerting to find yourself unexpectedly alone in the middle of the night. At first, my face still buried in a pillow, I figured Daryl was on the toilet. As I rolled over and opened my eyes I noticed a figure standing at the foot of our bed. It was Daryl. I jumped from fright and yelped. “My God Daryl, you frightened me!” I said as I clutched my chest and breathed hard. “What are you doing standing there?” I asked.  

Daryl did not stir.  

His back still faced me.  

He seemed to be staring at the curtains in front of him. Then he spoke and it filled me with terror. “They’re outside. They’re calling.” He said, his voice flat and vacant. He was sleep-talking again. And now he was sleepwalking. I felt my stomach fill with boiling lead. “Come back to bed” I said shakily as I slowly sat up. Something wasn’t right. “They’re outside. They’re coming.” His voice sounded slurred. Like he’d been drinking. Daryl took a few quick steps toward the window. I felt my heart skip a beat. I ripped the duvet off my legs but as my feet touched the floor there was a tremendous smash. I screamed as the window to my right shattered into a thousand pieces. The sudden commotion made me lose my balance and I fell on the ground hard. I felt a frigid gust howl through the broken window. “What –“ I didn’t get a chance to finish speaking before the window in front of Daryl exploded too. The wind that blasted through was so strong and cold it forced my eyes closed. My teeth began to chatter. How was it suddenly so cold? “D-Daryl?” the wind died down and I opened my eyes.  

Daryl was gone.  

My mind felt empty. My limbs were heavy. Confusion washed over me. “Daryl?” I said again. The wind had vanished and the chill in the air had retreated completely. I slowly stood. My eyes searched the ground for signs of another rock. But there was nothing. I walked up to the closest smashed window. When I looked outside all I saw was my garden shrouded in darkness. The half-moon was obscured by wispy clouds. “What?” I whispered, unable to comprehend what had just happened. I suddenly heard a hoarse whisper behind me, “Aunty Valerie. What’s going on?” I spun around to see the dark silhouette of Jacob standing in my bedroom doorway. I could just make out the look of worry on his face. “I’m not sure. Your Uncle is missing. I’m not sure what happened. The windows. They broke. I think I need to call the police.” I hurried over to my phone and called 911. 

Within fifteen minutes two exhausted looking police officers arrived and took my statement. I trembled as I spoke. I told them everything. I told them about my husband’s dreams. I told them about the smashed window from the afternoon and I also showed them the mess in my bedroom. They were sympathetic and offered to drive me to the hospital for a checkup. I declined. I just needed rest. They told me not to worry. That my husband probably hadn’t gotten far. That he must have broken the windows in his sleep.  When I tried to tell them there was no way my husband broke the windows one of the cops said, “Look, people can do weird and out of character things while sleepwalking. We once had to go fetch some teenage kid from some park in the middle of the night. He was up some tree and refused to climb down. He’d done it all in his sleep.” They said they’d look around the area and let me know if they found him. …

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