Nightmare: Origins (Prologue)

A group of friends gather for a girls’ night that quickly spirals into a nightmare.

**Maple Ridge, Vancouver — September 5th, 1991**
**8:39 PM**

“Hey, so me and the girls were kinda hoping to have a girls’ night here. Do you mind stepping out for a few hours?” Stephanie Middleton asked her older brother, Brandon, who was standing at the kitchen counter, making a peanut butter and jam sandwich.

Brandon put down the table knife he was using and turned around, giving her a semi-offended look. “Oh, I see how it is,” he said, crossing his arms. “You and the girls want the house all to yourselves, huh?”

Despite how upset he tried to sound, Stephanie could tell he wasn’t being serious. “You’re a really bad actor. Besides, it’s just for the night. The girls will stay over and be gone by nine tomorrow morning.”

Brandon pretended to think about it for a moment before letting out an overexaggerated sigh. “Fine,” he said, placing his half-made sandwich into a Ziploc bag and tossing it into the fridge. “I guess I’ll stay over at Steven’s house. It’s been a while since I hung out with him anyway.”

“Thanks, bro. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” she said sweetly, with an almost angelic tone.

“I’m sure you will. See you tomorrow, then.” Brandon headed toward the doorway but suddenly stopped himself, turning back to face his sister with a mixture of nervousness and suspicion. “You’re not gonna say… the riddle, are you?”

“What riddle?” Stephanie asked innocently, trying to hide her nervousness.

“You know which one,” Brandon said, calling her bluff.

“Are you kidding me? It’s just a harmless riddle,” she insisted.

“It’s not harmless,” Brandon shot back. “People keep pretending like it’s—…remember what happened to Jessica? It drove her crazy. She nearly ended up in a mental hospital, kept bashing her head against a wall, almost gave herself brain damage. I… I don’t want the same thing to happen to you. Just Please, promise me you won’t say the riddle.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Stephanie leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at the floor, avoiding her brother’s gaze. Brandon looked directly at her, concern etched on his face.

Despite her doubts about the riddle’s danger, she knew one way to end the conversation—one way to be left alone with her friends. She took a deep breath, finally meeting her brother’s eyes. “Okay, alright… I won’t say it. Promise.”

Brandon let out a relieved sigh and stepped closer, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Thank you sis…I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Stephanie replied, returning the embrace. She let out a relaxed sigh—something she often did after a hug from her family.

After ten seconds, they pulled apart. Brandon smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Be good while I’m gone, or Mom will kick both our butts.”

“What do you mean? I’m always good,” she joked.

Brandon rolled his eyes and headed toward the front door. Stephanie followed, just behind him. He opened the door, stepping outside into the cool night air. He crossed the porch, descended the stairs, then looked back at his sister, who gave him a small smile he returned.

Once he was out of sight, she gently closed the door behind him. She turned around and made her way down the hallway toward the living room, she stopped halfway down the hallway as something caught her eye. On the wall to her left was an old dollar store clock.

The clock had been dead for about a year, and her family was too lazy to change the batteries. She had walked past it almost every day, memorizing the positions of the hour, minute, and second hands. The clock had stopped at 4:35:15, but today, all the hands pointed at the number six for some unknown reason.

Despite how strange that was, Stephanie shook her head and continued down the hallway, entering the living room where her friends—Bethany, Kimberly, Samantha, Everly, and Stacy—were waiting, excited.

“Heya, Steph! What took you so long?” Bethany asked with a grin.

“Sorry, girls. Had to shoo the brother out,” Stephanie said, settling into the circle they’d formed. “What are you all talking about?”

“Boys!” Bethany teased with a smirk.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“Actually, we were talking about our futures and where we see ourselves in ten years,” Kimberly added.

“Didn’t we do that in grade five or something?” Stephanie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but we’re older now, and graduation’s just around the corner,” Samantha said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

“For some of us,” Everly muttered, shrugging.

Samantha leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Actually believe it or not I've been thinking a lot about college and what I want to study. Maybe environmental science—I really want to help save the planet."

Kimberly nodded thoughtfully. "I've actually been considering moving to a big city and pursuing a career in fashion design. It’s always been my dream to see my own clothing line on the runway."

Everly giggled, a playful smile on her face. "You guys are so lame! I want to travel the world and see the sights, maybe learn some new languages."

Stacy, quiet until now, finally spoke up. "I don’t really have a plan yet. I guess I’m just trying to figure things out as I go. But I do know I want to make a difference—maybe through activism or volunteering."

The girls all nodded, each lost in their own thoughts about the future. Stephanie watched her friends, feeling a warm sense of camaraderie. Moments like these made her realize how much was about to change—soon, they would all be stepping into new worlds, forging their own paths.

Bethany suddenly looked down at her hands, twisting her bracelet nervously. Her voice softened. “You know… I’ve been thinking about all of this, about college, careers, everything. But I can’t help feeling… scared.”

Kimberly tilted her head, concern flickering across her face. “Scared of what?”

Bethany hesitated before answering. “What if…what if I don’t make it? What if I mess up or I don’t get into the right school? Or what if I change my mind and it’s too late?”

Samantha reached out, giving Bethany’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s normal. Everyone feels that way. I do, too.”

Everly nodded, a little smile playing on her lips. “Honestly, I’m scared of losing you guys. What if we drift apart once we’re adults? What if we grow into people we don’t recognize?”

Stacy looked down at her lap, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of not knowing what I want. Of making the wrong choice, and then being stuck in a life I don’t love.”

Stephanie, sitting quietly, felt a strange tightness in her chest. She hadn’t expected this side of her friends tonight. She had always seen them as brave, confident—ready to conquer the world. But now, their fears made her realize they were just as uncertain as she was about what the future held.

She spoke softly, almost to herself, “I’m scared, too. Of growing up, of leaving everything familiar behind. What if I lose myself in the process?”

The room fell into a contemplative silence, broken only by a faint creak of the old house settling. The girls looked around at each other, eyes shining with vulnerability.

Kimberly broke the silence with a gentle smile. “You know what? We’re all in this together. We’re scared, but we face it because we have each other. We’re not alone in feeling uncertain.”

Bethany nodded vigorously. “Exactly. We’re getting older, but that just means we’re about to start a new chapter—scary as it is. But we’ll find our way.”

Stacy finally looked up, a small smile breaking through her worries. “Maybe that’s what matters most. Having friends who understand the fears behind the dreams. We’re stronger for it.”

Everly grinned. “And hey, no matter what happens, we’ll always have tonight. Our little circle. Our fears. Our hopes.”

Stephanie looked around at her friends, feeling a wave of warmth and strength. She realized that sharing these fears made them even closer. They weren’t just dreaming about the future—they were facing it, together.

“Speaking of fears, how about we share some of ours, just for fun,” Bethany said.

“Wow, this conversation just took a major turn,” Kimberly responded.

"No way, Bethany," Samantha said with a grin. "You’re daring us now?"

"Yeah," Bethany replied, her eyes twinkling. "Come on, everyone’s got a fear. Let’s be brave and share them. It’ll make us even stronger."

The girls looked back and forth between another then shrugged, one by one, began to open up.

“Okay,” Kimberly said, her eyes shimmering with excitement. “I’ll go first. My biggest fear is being buried alive. Just thinking about waking up in a coffin, all dark and cramped… it’s terrifying. Sometimes I catch myself imagining what it would feel like to be completely sealed in, with no way out.”

The others shuddered slightly at her words, a collective shiver passing through the group.

“Wow,” Samantha said softly. “Mine is even worse. I’m afraid of being chased by something in the dark—like, a shadow creature or a monster…or a demon It’s that feeling of something lurking just out of sight, waiting to grab you. The kind that appears suddenly, and you can’t escape because there’s nowhere to hide.”

Everly nodded, her face pale. “That’s really scary. My biggest fear is losing control of my mind—like, going insane. Imagine waking up one day and not knowing who you are or what’s real. I read stories about people slowly slipping into madness, and it’s horrifying. The idea of your own thoughts turning against you… it’s nightmare fuel.”

Stacy looked serious as she added, “My biggest fear is…” she took a deep breath before continuing “ever since i was a kid i’ve always had a fear of looking under my bed and…seeing something under there that wasnt human”

Stephanie listened intently, feeling the weight of her friends’ fears.

“What about you Steph, what’s your biggest fear huh?”

Stephanie was hesitent, but she felt it was only fair that she discuss it since her friends had “My biggest fear,” she began softly, “is the idea of something evil hiding in plain sight—something that looks normal a-and friendly but is actually supernatural. Like, one of those creepy things you see in horror movies that lurks in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. Sometimes I think the scariest monsters are the ones you can’t see, and they’re right next to you—like a demon or a ghost pretending to be human.”

The girls looked at her, eyes wide, the atmosphere thick with suspense.

“Wow,” Kimberly whispered. “That’s intense. I guess we all have pretty dark fears.”

Samantha nodded slowly. “Yeah. But talking about it kind of makes it feel a little less scary, right?”

Everly smiled nervously. “Maybe. Or maybe it just makes us more aware of how creepy the world can be if we let our imagination run wild.”

They all fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment, each girl lost in her own fears, the shadows dancing on the walls around them.

“Hey,” Bethany suddenly broke the silence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You know what we should do for fun?”

“What?” Samantha responded, curiosity piqued.

“We should say the riddle,” Bethany suggested casually.

“You’re kidding, right?” Stephanie said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Yeah, you do know that’s just a hoax, right? Like Bloody Mary or global warming,” Everly chimed in with a smirk.

“Hey, Bloody Mary is real. I’ve seen her before!” Everly declared confidently.

“Let me guess—she’s in your father’s liquor cabinet?” Stacy teased, earning a few laughs.

“Girls, come on. The only way to find out if it’s a hoax or not is to actually say it,” Bethany insisted, a daring tone in her voice.

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Didn’t Jessica go crazy after saying it?” Kimberly warned, her voice tinged with concern.

“If you ask me, Jessica was always a little nuts,” Stacy joked, earning a few chuckles.

“She wasn’t the only one,” Kimberly added with a grin.

“Alright, how about this—let’s say the riddle, and if nothing happens, I’ll give each of you ten bucks,” Bethany bargained.

“Make it twenty!” Stacy demanded, crossing her arms.

“Deal,” Bethany replied with a grin.

“So… how do we do this exactly?” Stephanie asked, looking around.

“I mean, we could hold hands and form a circle. Seems like the right way,” Kimberly suggested.

“Sure, why not?”

The girls linked hands, forming a tight circle. They each took a deep breath and, in unison, recited the riddle.

“I am something you fear, something you dread, but I only appear when you are in bed. What am I?”

As soon as the last words left their mouths, the dim lights in the living room flickered violently, casting eerie shadows around them.

“See, just some flickering lights, nothing that scary” Bethany said nervously.

“Bethany… the lights didn’t flicker,” Kimberly said softly.

Bethany froze, her gaze fixed on her friend's face, terror etched into her features.

Kimberly looked at her, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, a dark, unnatural substance began to seep from Kimberly’s eyes and mouth—black, viscous, and shimmering ominously in the dim light.

Bethany let out a scream of terror, and before any of the girls could react or speak, she darted past them and bolted out of the living room.

“What the hell was that about?” Everly asked, her voice trembling.

“I’ll go check on her. Everyone else, stay here!” Stacy commanded.

“Like hell we will,” Kimberly shot back.


Kimberly

Kimberly wasn’t about to stay another minute in that house. Out of all her friends, she was the easiest to scare. Heart pounding, she darted toward the back door. Without hesitation, she threw it open and sprinted away, glancing back anxiously as she did.

Lost in her panic, she didn’t notice the uneven ground beneath her feet. Her foot caught on something, and she tumbled forward, crashing into a rectangular hole in the earth.

Her eyes snapped open. She propped herself up on her elbows and immediately felt her stomach drop. She was in a six-foot-deep pit, and the surface beneath her was… a coffin.

“Oh my God… no,” she gasped, her voice trembling. She tried to scramble to her feet, but her movements froze as she looked up in terror. Standing over the coffin was a dark, shadowy figure—demonic and menacing, with eyes that glowed like dying embers.

Kimberly’s heart pounded in her chest. She tried to back away, but before she could move, the entity’s demonic hand shot out and clamped over her face, forcing her back down into the coffin.

A scream tore from her throat as the lid was slammed shut. She pounded on the wood with everything she had, desperation fueling her efforts. Just then, she heard the sound of dirt being poured into the pit—slowly at first, then faster—as her surroundings disappeared into darkness.


Samantha

Samantha bolted toward the front door. She turned the knob, then rammed her shoulder into it, forcing it open before slamming it shut behind her as she sprinted out.

She practically leapt off the porch, dashed down the walkway, and into the dimly lit street, not daring to look back as she ran.

Her legs burned as she sped down the long, straight road until exhaustion threatened to take over. She finally slowed near a flickering streetlight, desperately trying to catch her breath. As she fought to regain control of her breathing, she noticed something strange—the streetlight flickered and dimmed, but no electrical sounds accompanied it. In fact, there was no sound at all—only an oppressive silence.

A cold sensation suddenly gripped her body. She looked up, and her breath hitched in her throat. Standing about fifty feet away was a shadowy, smoky figure. Its eyes—bright red—were visible in the darkness, piercing through the gloom. They didn't glow, yet they cut through the night with unnatural clarity.

The figure’s form seemed to flicker and dissolve, then re-form with each dimming of the nearby streetlights—like a living shadow rather than a solid being.

Samantha took a trembling step back, her shoes softly crunching on the pavement. The figure remained still, its gaze fixed on her—silent, yet utterly commanding.

She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to scream or run. Her voice caught in her throat. The silence was deafening—no whispers, no whispers, just the weight of that burning stare.

The creature tilted its head slightly, as if studying her. Its eyes flickered like dying embers before it slowly took a deliberate step forward. The air around it seemed to ripple, shadows stretching and twisting as if they were alive.

Panic surged through her. Every instinct told her to run, but she hesitated, afraid that fleeing might invite pursuit. Instead, she took another step back. The creature matched her movement—another step forward. She stepped again, and it did the same.

They moved in unison—each step she took back, it took one toward her. Standing frozen, Samantha’s mind raced. She decided—she had to run in the opposite direction.

She spun around and sprinted. But as she turned, her eyes widened in terror. Standing directly in her path now was the creature.

From a distance, it appeared about five feet tall. But up close, towering over her at nearly seven feet, it loomed with an oppressive presence. Frozen in place, Samantha couldn’t move, her feet rooted to the ground.

The creature stood perfectly still, its gaze piercing into her soul. Before she could react, a mouth suddenly materialized on its head—an exaggerated, gaping maw.

Before she could scream, the mouth opened wide, engulfing her entire head, swallowing her in darkness.

Everything went black.


Everly

Everly hurried toward the bathroom, despite knowing that the front and back doors could have led her to escape. Something instinctual told her the bathroom was the safest place. Once inside, she flicked on the light, shut the door, and locked it behind her.

She sank onto the edge of the tub, trying to steady her trembling hands. Closing her eyes, she took three deep breaths, attempting to calm her racing mind. When she opened them, she gasped and leapt to her feet.

In the mirror across from her, her reflection stared back—yet it was different. Instead of mimicking her every move, it stood perfectly still, gazing at her with a semi-calm but angry expression.

Her eyes fixated on the mirror as she stared. Suddenly, she heard the doorknob rattle. Her gaze snapped to the door, watching intently until the rattling ceased. When she looked back at the mirror, she was stunned—completely fogged over.

Without warning, someone began writing on the fogged glass: **14 9 7 8 20 13 1 18 5**.

Confused, Everly leaned closer, trying to see through the fog. After a tense moment, the mirror cracked with a sharp, chilling sound. She let out a strangled scream, stumbling back.

In her panic, she rushed to the door, desperately trying to unlock it. It wouldn’t turn. She rattled the knob and slammed her shoulder against it, but still, nothing.

A cold presence suddenly loomed behind her. Her body stiffened. Slowly, she turned her head to face it.

What she saw chilled her to the bone: her own face, but twisted—wild-eyed, unhinged, as if she’d lost her grip on reality.

The distorted version of Everly took a slow, deliberate step forward, her eyes burning with madness. Her voice was raspy and uneven.

"Why are you running?" it whispered. "You can’t hide from what’s inside."

Her heart hammered in her chest. Her mind scrambled to understand what she was seeing. Was it a ghost? A hallucination? Or something else entirely?

"Who are you?" Everly choked out, her voice trembling.

The crazed reflection smirked—a sinister, unsettling grin that didn’t belong to her. "I’m what you’ve buried deep down. The part of you you’re too afraid to face."

Everly pressed her back against the door, trembling.

Suddenly, the room grew colder, the air thick with an oppressive presence. The crazy version of her reached out, her fingers elongating unnaturally.

"Come closer," she hissed. "Let me show you the truth."

Everly’s instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet felt cemented in place.

"Stay away from me," she whispered fiercely.

The distorted Everly smiled wickedly. "You can’t escape what’s been waiting. It’s been inside you all along."

“What are you?” Everly demanded, voice cracking.

"You know what I am," it replied, voice deeper and raspier than before.

“I am you!” it declared in a deep, demonic voice.

She screamed as the entity slowly moved closer and closer until everything went black.


Stacy

“Bethany? Bethany, are you okay? Where are you?” she called out from the top floor, her voice trembling with concern as she searched for her friend. No response came. She moved past the staircase, her eyes darting from door to door until she noticed one—the bedroom door—slightly ajar.

“Beth, you in there?” she asked softly, cautiously approaching the door. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. With a loud creak, she slowly pushed it open. The room was illuminated by the flickering light switch she flicked on, but there was no sign of Bethany. The space was eerily quiet.

Suddenly, a faint thud echoed from beneath the bed. Stacy’s heart pounded. “Bethany? What are you doing under there? This better not be one of your pranks,” she called, trying to mask her rising anxiety.

She sighed, forcing herself to remain calm, and stepped closer. “Jokes over, Beth. Come on out,” she said, voice tinged with annoyance. Still, no response. She hesitated, then lowered herself to her knees beside the bed.

“Seriously, Beth, this isn’t funny,” she muttered, pressing her ear against the floorboards. She peered underneath. Nothing—no sign of Bethany, no discarded clothes, no insect carcasses, just empty darkness.

She stood up, rubbing her hands on her jeans. “Where are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Turning to leave, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest as an icy, invisible force suddenly seized her ankle. She fell forward, stomach hitting the floor, and was dragged beneath the bed. Her hands scrabbled at the floor, desperate to crawl out, but her body was paralyzed.

From within the room, footsteps grew louder—slow, deliberate, as if someone—or something—was approaching her. She instinctively pressed her hands over her mouth to suppress a scream, holding her breath as the sounds drew nearer, echoing through the silence.

The footsteps stopped abruptly. For a moment, all was still.

Then, a faint, strangled gasp—like a broken breath—came from beside her, under the bed. Stacy’s eyes widened as she slowly turned her head toward the source of the sound, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it might burst.

There was nothing there—just the darkness beneath the bed.

She stared, frozen, her breath caught in her throat. Minutes seemed to stretch into eternity. Suddenly, a figure appeared. It was female, with blood-red eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light. Her face was stretched into an impossibly wide smile, revealing jagged, razor-sharp teeth that gleamed menacingly.

Stacy’s heart hammered in her chest as her stomach clenched with terror. The red eyes pierced through her soul, and that wicked smile stretched impossibly wide, revealing teeth that shimmered like jagged knives.

Her breath caught, her body frozen in terror. Then, without warning, she let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the room.


Stephanie

Stephanie waited anxiously in the living room for Stacy. Despite her nerves, she knew she couldn’t leave the house. She stood there for what felt like hours, her eyes darting toward the living room entryway every few seconds. Then, suddenly, she heard it—Stacy’s blood-curdling scream from upstairs.

Her heart pounded. She wanted to rush upstairs to help her friend, but something else—a strange, pull deep within—held her back. Instead, she bolted toward the front door, nearly bumping into the entryway as she did.

Grabbing the handle, she hesitated. The moment her fingers wrapped around it, she froze. Behind her, distant footsteps echoed down the stairs. She desperately wanted to ignore them, to open the door and run—but part of her feared it might be Stacy.

Slowly, she turned around. Her breath caught in her throat. There, descending the stairs, was a female figure. She wore a black T-shirt and black pants, her movements slow and deliberate.

As the figure reached the bottom, she turned to face Stephanie. Her eyes—vivid crimson—pierced directly into hers, as if looking into her soul. Stephanie’s instinct was to run, to bolt out the door, to escape whatever this was. But her body betrayed her; she was frozen, rooted to the spot. Neither moved, neither blinked, silence filling the space between them, deafening and oppressive.

Time stretched on. Stephanie’s mind went blank—no thoughts, no fears—just an overwhelming silence. Then, suddenly, she began to breathe again.

And that’s when she saw it: the figure’s smile. It started as a normal smile but quickly morphed into something unearthly—a wide, demonic grin. Its teeth sharpened into needle-like points, gleaming menacingly.

Panic erupted in Stephanie’s mind. She screamed—her instincts screaming for her to run. Turning, she sprinted down the hallway. But before she could reach the door, an unseen force tripped her, sending her sprawling onto her stomach.

A cold, rough hand grabbed her upper arm, flipping her over violently onto her back. She screamed louder, fighting against the grip. The figure loomed over her, its eyes now pitch black—no longer red. A black substance was smeared around its eyes, and a grotesque, large black smile stretched across its face.

The sight was so terrifying that darkness suddenly clouded her vision. Her world faded to black, and she lost consciousness.

**7:02 AM**

Stephanie awoke in a cold sweat, panic still clutching her chest. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to steady her breathing. But something was wrong—she wasn’t in her bedroom. She was on the living room couch.

“Was that just a nightmare?” She thought to herself.

The smell of breakfast cooking wafted from the kitchen, pulling her thoughts away. Carefully, she pushed herself to her feet and quietly made her way toward the kitchen.

There, she saw her brother at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping a pancake.

“Good morning, sis,” he said casually, not noticing her trembling. “Sleep well?”

Stephanie didn’t respond. Her mind was still reeling from last night’s nightmare—or was it?

“Can’t believe you fell asleep on the couch,” he chuckled. “Must’ve been a wild night. The girls must’ve left early, huh?”

He glanced at her, concern flickering in his eyes. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m… fine,” she managed, voice trembling. “Just… exhausted after last night.”

He shrugged, turning back to the stove. “I remember nights like those at Aron’s house. Won’t be able to do that after college—”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“What the hell? Who’s ringing at this hour?” Brandon said, turning off the burner. “Pancakes on the table if you want some. Save me a few.”

He slipped past her, and in that moment, Stephanie’s mind snapped back to reality. She slowly sat at the table, her thoughts spiraling—was it all just a dream? Did any of it really happen? The girls weren’t here when she woke up, so maybe it was just her imagination.

She sighed, trying to dismiss her fears. But then, a quiet knock at the window made her jump. Her heart pounded. When she looked toward the sound, her blood ran cold. Standing outside, staring directly at her, was the figure from last night.