Alfred Fox Presents "The Demon On My Chest"

A short story by Alfred Fox Presents. Exclusive to Hubpages. Alfred Fox is a published author who writes violent and horrifying material. His writing, which is sometimes humorous will still, no doubt, leave you shocked, disturbed and provoked.

Be warned,

Alfred Fox Presents ..........

Freddie had been known to sleep walk as a child, not often, but there were several occasions that his parents could recollect how they had to stop him from walking out of the front door in the middle of the night. How they would find him standing in the kitchen or in the hallway and have to gently guide him back to bed. Freddie of course had no memories of these occurrences, after all, he had always been in a deep sleep when they had occurred.

When Freddie reached eight years of age, his sleepwalking stopped. He continued well into his teens without any episodes of somnambulism. It was when Freddie was fifteen years of age that he began to suffer from another kind of sleeping disorder, something that was going to push him to his physical and mental limits.

At fifteen years of age, Freddie had his first episode of what people refer to as "Sleep Paralysis". It had been a typical evening in front of the television with his mother and father, when Freddie had decided to retire to bed at his usual time of ten o' clock. During the middle of the night he woke to a tingling sensation in his legs that quickly moved up throughout his body. It was as if somebody had injected him with a chemical from the foot of his bed. Before he could react to what was happening, the sensation had taken over him. Completely paralyzed, he found himself laying on his back in the dark, looking up at the ceiling and unable to move. He tried to fight the numbness, but the more he struggled the more he felt the chemical sensation grow stronger, as if rebelling against his efforts to move. Trying to shout for his parents, he began to panic when he realized that he was unable to move his mouth. Thinking that he was having a stroke, he made the decision to relax his body. He had tried to fight, but it had only seemed to have made the numb feeling coursing through his veins ten times worse. Instead, he lay there, waiting for the inevitable.

As the minutes passed, when Freddie thought that things couldn't get any worse, he sensed that somebody was in the room with him. He couldn't turn his head to see, but he was certain that somebody, or something, was standing at the right hand side of his bed. The headboard of his bed back against the wall, the bedroom door on his left hand side, he would have clearly seen his parents if they had entered the room and walked around the bottom of his bed to the other side. However, his bedroom door closed, Freddie knew that whatever was in the room with him, was not his mum or dad and he had a horrifying feeling, that whatever it was, didn't mean him well. Filling him with a sense of dread, he had struggled further by trying to move his head in the direction of whatever it was he could sense watching over him. Failure to do this, he had strained his eyes instead by trying to look to the right as far as his eyes would allow. Glimpsing the edge of what seemed like a dark shadowy figure standing next to him, he again tried to scream out for his parents. Still unable to move his mouth, he finally managed to make a muffled sound and he finally got his mother's attention. When his mother entered the room to wake him, Freddie was able to move the second she had placed her hand on him. Telling her son that he was having a nightmare, she didn't stick around and left the room. Freddie hadn't said anything to her, instead, he turned over on his side and closed his eyes.

Freddie wanted to believe his mother, but deep down, he knew that he hadn't had a nightmare. After all, he had heard his mother open his bedroom door, he had seen her appear by his side, lean over him. He had seen her place her hand on his cheek to wake him. He had seen everything, because he hadn't been asleep ... he had been awake.

Over the coming years, Freddie experienced sleep paralysis more and more often. There was no pattern to them, just completely random episodes that came out of nowhere. As the internet wasn't mainstream at the time, he had no computer, he could only find out information about what was happening to him by speaking to close friends. Many of his friends thinking that he was bonkers had laughed it off, others who had heard a little about the symptoms themselves, reassured him that it was a simple sleeping disorder. Too scared to go to the doctors in case they carted him off to the funny farm, he accepted that it was a condition that he would most probably have to live with for the rest of his life. Each of the episodes were relatively the same as the last one, the inability to move his body and the inability to talk. The feeling that there was something watching him however was not always the same. Sometimes it was as if a presence was at the side of his bed, sometimes it was the feeling of more than one person or thing, outside his window. There were even times that he couldn't feel a presence at all. One thing that was always there and seemed to be getting stronger as every year passed, was the feeling of fear. Fear being the understatement. The feeling of complete terror.

Freddie had tried everything to stop the attacks. Many times he would force a muffled sound out of his body to get his mum and dad's attention. Other times he would be able to catch himself before the chemical sensation had a chance to wash over him. However, once he was under, there was nothing he could do. He had tried closing his eyes and ignoring what was happening to him, hoping to ride it out. When he did this though, he would always receive an excruciating pressure around his brain, as if an invisible hand was reaching into his scull and taking pleasure in squeezing his brain, forcing him to play.

When Freddie was nineteen years old he had stopped talking to people about his sleep paralysis. It was pretty obvious at this point that nobody was ever really going to take him seriously, let alone give him any good advice. The episodes he now referred to as "attacks" because that's how they made him feel, like he was being attacked, attacked by something or somethings in his bed that he couldn't see no matter how hard he tried.

Still living with his parents but now working night shifts at his local supermarket, Freddie would often sleep throughout the day when his parents were at work. On this particular day, his bed now in the corner of his room, Freddie had fallen asleep during the day as planned. It had been months since his last attack and when he woke with the same dreaded sensation, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to come. Even though the room was bright, the feeling of terror was still there, so was the sense that somebody was in the room with him but he couldn't say where. He had tried to struggle as much as he could, the thought of not fighting back and risking the agonizing pressure around his brain was no longer an option, a physical pain that he wouldn't wish on his worse enemy. Fighting back he realized that something even more phenomenal was happening, something he could never be prepared for. As he felt his body leave his bed, he could only watch in astonishment as he floated towards the ceiling. Trying to convince himself that it was only a dream, he closed his eyes and began to pray. It was only when he felt the excruciating pain on his nose and mouth from his face pushing hard against the ceiling wall, as if he was being crushed, did he open his eyes. Trying to scream, he had never been so scared in his entire life and without any warning, he dropped back violently onto his bed, regaining control over his body but at the same time, convinced that he was losing his mind.

At twenty years old, Freddie had moved on with his life. Still working night shifts at his local supermarket, he now lived alone in a small studio flat that he was able to rent. It had been over a year since he had suffered from sleep paralysis and not wanting to waste anymore time on the subject, he was more than happy to put it all behind him. He even went one step further, convincing himself that he had been suffering from simple night terrors.

Returning home one Friday morning after a long night at work, he sat down on his bed to remove his shoes. It was Summer time and the sun was already shining through his window. Looking forward to having breakfast and catching up on the news, Freddie didn't plan on going to sleep for a good few hours. As he removed his shoes he noticed that he had left his bedroom lamp on throughout the night, and without giving it any thought he immediately leaned forward to switch it off. The look of panic on his face when he had switched off the lamp had said it all. It was a look of disgust, as Freddie realized that he was unable to move. Leaning forward off the bed, his hand still wrapped around the lamp, his heart completely sank when he realized that it had all been real.

He had convinced himself that it had all been a dream, that because it had always happened to him in his bed, then the chances were he had always been asleep. He had convinced himself that his brain had simply failed to fall asleep when his body had. That his body had failed to wake up when his brain had. He convinced himself that he had such a strong mind, that it only made sense that his body struggled to keep up with it.

But as Freddie sat frozen on his bed, with the sound of something sinister coming up fast behind him, he again found himself struggling for his life. Only this time, he hadn't been in his bed, he was wide awake and was more alert than ever. The realization that it had all been real was too much for him to take in, especially after spending the best part of a year convincing himself otherwise. Feeling the black shadow sweep over him, he struggled to breath, and as he finally broke out of his cocoon like state, he ran out of the room and onto the street outside.

Five years had passed and Freddie had accepted that the sleep paralysis was part of who he was. Now living in Poland with his girlfriend, he was about to finally come face to face with the monster that had been haunting him for so many years.

It was his girlfriends family home and her mother and brother who also lived there were away for the week. As Freddie only wanted to take a nap, he didn't go upstairs to his girlfriends bedroom as he normally would, instead he went next door to the spare bedroom while his girlfriend watched the television next door in the living room. The bedroom which was very outdated and had once belonged to his girlfriends grandma was only a small room, but the bed was very comfortable and Freddie would always have a good rest whenever he slept in this room. Asking his girlfriend to wake him in a few hours so he could watch the movie on television that he had been looking forward to seeing, Freddie went next door to sleep.

Waking up in the dark, completely paralyzed, Freddie knew that it didn't matter how far he moved away from his home in London, there was no escaping this part of his life. Laying on his back, he began to make the same muffling scream to draw his girlfriends attention. His girlfriend knew all about his attacks and had woken him many times in the past. Relieved to see her come to his rescue so soon, he watched as she slipped underneath the bottom of the bed sheets. He could feel her slowly climbing up him in a sexual manner, kissing him on his body as she passed through. Confused as to why she had no urgency in waking him, when she knew how terrified he would be at this precise moment, he began to cry out again. As she stuck her head out from under the top of the sheets, he thought he had finally got her attention, but when she continued to kiss him on his chest, he realized that something was seriously wrong.

He didn't know if it was the smell of her hair, the feeling of her lips against his skin, or the fact that she felt so much lighter. But as she looked up at him, he knew before he had even seen her that it was something evil.

Feeling the hair on his head stand up, goosebumps cover his entire body, he looked point blank at the creature that now sat above him on his chest.

The pale, black eyed being with the demonic features that had haunted him for so many years opened its mouth, twice as wide as any human could, letting out a tormented scream.

The most frightened he had ever been, Freddie hadn't even realized that he was no longer paralyzed by sleep paralysis. The only thing that was keeping him frozen this very second, was fear. Throwing the creature of him, he jumped out of the bed and ran straight to the bedroom door and on opening it, he jumped as he was met by his girlfriend who was standing right outside of the room.

Freddie never looked back into the room, he knew that he would only be wasting his time. The demon was either gone, or it was all in his head. He never mentioned what had happened to anyone, until now ... nearly ten years on.

Freddie is now in his late thirties and still suffers from sleep paralysis. One day, while browsing through the internet to research the phenomenon that had plagued him for so many years, he happened to come across the picture below. It finally confirmed to him that he wasn't crazy.

THE END

Alfred Fox has published two books, a short, yet disturbing fable called "When The Lights Go Out" about the final days leading up to the 2011 London riots, and a novel called "Rideum Amrous" a horrific crime thriller set in London. His books will guarantee to keep you awake at night and disturbed throughout your day.