This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Yearbook01 on 2024-09-27 19:29:02+00:00.
It’s been days. I haven’t been able to sleep much, my body is actually making me do a series of microsleeps that leave me woozy. Each time I blink 5 or 6 minutes pass. It’s enough for that thing using my husbands likeness to slither down the hallway slowly. Each time I regain consciousness he slowly inches forward. Towards what, I’m unsure of. Either me or the pill bottle or the front door to escape into the night.
Stay awake.
The credit card company was absolutely no help. The representative I got on the line told me there was absolutely no record of any online purchase of any type of medication. I cried in frustration at her, telling her it wasn’t possible, that he had put a sizeable charge on that card and there had to be something.
We went in circles for a few minutes before she got snippy with me, saying that she was going to disconnect the call if I had no further questions.
Stay awake.
Of course I had questions! Where the in the hell did this demonic pill come from? I can’t remember the name of it either now, the lack of sleep has ruined my thought process. Another blink has left me in the dark for too long. There’s something- there’s something on my foot.
Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP.
I woke up with him unhinging his mouth and trying to inhale me whole, my foot was already in his mouth, trying to take me into the void. His flimsy skin stretchy and pliable, trying to grip my leg by wrapping his wrapping paper arms around and around and tying them into a crude knot. I kicked and screamed and fought and was able to get the knot untied. I could hear him release what I think was a yell of anger. It came out more like a puff of air, whistling from the holes in his body.
I was able to run into my bedroom and lock the door behind me. Thank God my phone was in my pocket. The police aren’t going to be any help, they already proved that much. They think I deserve to be in the damn looney bin. But at least I can get something out there in case something happens to me. Some type of recording and maybe it might get taken seriously here.
He was trying to stuff himself under the gap in the door. I could see his fingers wiggling like seaweed trying to get a grip on the particleboard. God it was like watching someone push a towel under the door trying to keep a flood from ravishing their house…
A towel… Fabric. I laughed- giggled even. The lack of sleep was truly getting to me. My husband was reduced to a freaking pile of skin cloth. I laughed to myself huddled in the fetal position, rocking back in forth on my bed. I almost couldn’t stop myself. I alternated between laughing and crying, thinking of my husband trying to get in the bedroom through the door gap.
Then, I had the most brilliant idea I’ve had in a long time.
I used to be a seamstress. I would make these beautiful dresses for brides and birthdays, cosplays for Comic-con’s, or even repair what clothes we did have. I had all the supplies I would ever need, bought by my husband.
Ripping the door open I leapt over the remains of my husband, accidentally stepping on what I think was his shins. I could feel the skin between my toes acting like Jell-O. Rushing down the stairs I made it to my sewing room. There, in the corner, was my saving grace. It was perfect. I cried with relief knowing that it didn’t get lost in the move.
I waited. And waited. Nodding off sometimes.
Stay awake.
It took him a lot longer than I had hoped for him to make his way down the stairs. But that’s okay. I would have him back soon enough. He reached the door frame, bowlegged from the weight of the skin suit trying to stay upright. I guess he got tired of slithering. I grasped his face in my hands. He was still wheezing that whistling sound from his facial orifices’.
“Shh… My love. I have an idea.” I whispered to him.
It took me all day and all night to wrangle him onto the mannequin, but I did it. Thank the old Gods and new that his skin was so pliable and rubbery. Staples in all the right parts of the skin into the cloth made it so he couldn’t go anywhere easily. Nailing down the skin to the cloth was easier in some places, his feet looked as though they could start tapping to a tune.
I ended up using staples and thread for his knees, the thread pulled taunt to make his knee dimples, the staples on the backs of them to hold them down. I used skirt hoop wire and scotch tape to mold his fingers around the nub of the mannequin hands, they could bend and move and hold my hand just like they used to.
His smile though, held with fabric glue was my favorite. I could use the glue to make wrinkles in his face again, mimicking those laugh lines I was so sad to see leave. I used teddy bear safety eyes in that icy blue, and glued them into his eye holes. They were plastic and a little too small, but they worked for the idea I had. Maybe I can go to the craft store and get more life like ones.
I need sleep though, so I put the mannequin body in bed with me and wrapped his makeshift arms around myself. The whistling coming from his face almost sounds like his snores. It’s just like things used to be.
My husband is back. And he’s perfect.