Night Terror

Content Warning: Grief, Death, A Pandemic, and Mental Illness

The sadness she felt since the loss of her sister cut so deep that no breath would come from her aching lungs. The tears of grief that used to flow so freely would no longer come. Her eyes had become the window to her soul, a barren desert, a land without relief. She turned her aching eyes to the screen in front of her. The ancient newscaster’s words seared into her mind. “we currently know the virus as ‘Night terror’ is infecting the citizens of Uz. This virus is incredibly dangerous and appears to be spreading rapidly. While it is unknown how this virus spreads, we urge citizens to proceed with caution. Early symptoms include insomnia, hyperactivity, and extreme hunger. As the virus progresses, the infected individuals hallucinate. These hallucinations often include strange creatures or animals and the individuals may become violent if approached during an episode. We urge family and friends to contact authorities and medical personnel if they notice someone exhibiting these symptoms. There is currently no known cure.”

Rebecca switched off the TV and rubbed her tired eyes. She’d been following the news reports of the infected for some time now, each time they urged the families to alert the authorities as if they were mocking her and her loss. Once the authorities were contacted, the ‘infected’ would be taken from their families, a feeling she knew well.

Her sister Taylor had begun exhibiting symptoms of the virus. She was the first case of it in their small neighborhood. After the hallucinations began, her parents had taken her to the hospital. They were at their wit’s end. Shortly after admission, they took Taylor to do tests. When she tested positive for the virus, they never saw her again. They were told that she needed to be placed in quarantine, and it left them unable to say goodbye.

After her sister’s case, the media went public on the virus. That was three months ago. Rebecca let out a dry, humorless laugh, a sound like sandpaper grating on metal. Three months ago, her sister had become one of the infected, and three days ago Rebecca slept. A comforting thought was how quickly the disease progressed for her sister. The hallucinations began within a week of the insomnia. She wondered if she should tell her parents. She knew it would be easier for them if they could say goodbye. As if they heard her thoughts, her phone rang. She answered it, keeping her voice level. “Hello?”

“Hey Becks, how are you feeling?” The caring voice of her mother soothed some of the flaming fear within her.

“I’m okay Mom, how are you?” Rebecca took a deep breath, relaxing into the familiarity of her mother’s voice.

“I’m doing okay sweetie, have you seen the news?”

“Yeah, I did. I can’t believe they still haven’t figured out anything about the virus yet. How’s Dad taking it?”

“Not very well. He wants to know where they take the infected.” The sorrow in her mother’s voice reminded Rebeca of the way a mother cat cries for her kittens when they get lost.

“I know, Mom, I do too. I miss Taylor.” If this keeps up, I may see her again, Rebeca thought.

“I know, sweetie, I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.” Rebeca paused, her voice freezing in her throat as she tried to tell her mother the truth. She tried to tell her mother she was infected. She could not. “Mom, is it okay if I get off the phone? I’m tired.”

“Sure honey, get some rest. You are welcome here anytime, okay? Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t mom, see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too, bye hon.”

“Bye.” Rebecca hung up the phone. And headed into her room. She lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, paid for with a combination of student loans and a part-time job. She laid down on her bed, the memory foam conforming to her body close. She covered herself with her blanket. It felt soft and warm, like the coat of a kitten. She closed her eyes, attempting to will her exhausted body to sleep. She never did.

Now it was day four. She felt a presence around her. She was being watched. To ignore this feeling, she walked around town, hoping maybe she could outrun the virus. When she returned home, she wrote a letter to her mother, leaving it clipped to the fridge for her to find when the virus finally took her.

By day five, she felt an unquenchable hunger. Hunger so deep that the pangs felt like deep stabs into her abdomen, a knife in time with the beat of her heart. Her body felt as if it was consuming itself. She grabbed a piece of apple pie from the fridge, her favorite dessert. As she bit into what should have been a delicious treat tasting of warm apple slices and cinnamon sugar, it assaulted her tongue with a taste of mold and acid. She checked, spit the pie into the garbage, and examined the remainder of the slice. No mold. Is this part of the virus? She thought. No matter what she ate, she couldn’t satisfy her hunger, nor could she enjoy the food.

She heard laughter. It was a burst of deep, throaty laughter. She covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear them anymore. She paced around her apartment, covering her ears, willing the laughter to fade away. She couldn’t take it anymore and go outside in hopes of escaping the bodiless laughter. It only made it worse. Once outside, Rebecca was seeing things. The surrounding people were turning into horrific versions of themselves. It was as if she’d been blind her entire life until now. She laughed humorlessly to herself, creatures. She passed her neighbor, his face twisted into a grotesque version of a human face, portions of it rotting off, slipping like it was attached to ice. As she passed, her nose burned with the smell of rotting pork, the scent twisting her stomach into knots. To her horror, she realized it was her neighbor who she was smelling.

Across the street, she saw a man, covered in what appeared to be animal hair, the long prickly hairs surrounding his face like it would a hyena. His nose resembled a snout. And animals, she remembered as she turned around, moving quickly away from the rotting man who was her neighbor and distancing herself from the animalistic man. The laughter continued. It was in her head now. She covered her ears and ran, “Go away” She screamed aloud.

She saw the strange variations of her neighbors turn toward her, one of them who looked normal. Her face twisted into a look of concern pulled out her phone. Rebecca knew what the call would be before the woman even dialed. Rebecca ran as fast as she could, passing these beings from her deepest nightmares, until finally, one caught her. His body felt like ice to her, his skin pale as marble, his eyes red with blood, and the whites were bloodshot. He was wearing a police uniform. She fought against him, throwing her weight into him as hard as she could, screaming for the few normal people around to help her, but no one did. She felt a sharp pain behind her ear. The taste of pennies filled her mouth as she felt weakened. She fought to keep her eyes open, but they had become weights, the lids like magnets attracting one another. After what seemed like hours of this battle of wills, she gave in to the magnetic pull of the tranquilizer. She let her body drift lifelessly into the arms of the monster.

With her last conscious breath, a peaceful whisper escaped, “Taylor”. That was the last word heard before they took her into quarantine.