Sleep Paralysis

In the haze between dreams and waking, I sensed someone moving around me. Suddenly, they halted at my side, and I felt their unwavering gaze fixed on me. I tried to struggle upright, only to discover that my entire body was paralyzed, my mouth unable to open. Only my mind remained clear, able to think, as a cold hand began to touch my body.

Sleep paralysis.

I immediately realized what was happening—it was that familiar sensation again. Sleep paralysis, commonly known as "ghost pressing the bed," is a psychological phenomenon that tends to occur when one is extremely fatigued. Control over your body is stripped away; you can perceive your surroundings but are powerless to act, as if you were a living corpse.

Yet some disagree with this scientific explanation. The spiritual theory posits that sleep paralysis is caused by depleted vital energy, leaving one vulnerable to encounters with spirits and resulting in a shock to the soul. Normally, sufficient vital energy protects the soul, but when it is lacking, the soul may clash with the body, attempting to break free.

Because the physical body restricts the soul’s movement, your consciousness feels deprived of command over your limbs. This is, in fact, the precursor to an out-of-body experience. Some might claim that such an experience is fascinating—you could roam the heavens and earth, pass through walls. Indeed, once the soul leaves the body, as a spirit you can attempt many feats impossible to ordinary people.

However, once your soul departs, your body might be occupied by other spirits—what is commonly called possession. Regaining control involves a fierce struggle; losing means, at best, the loss of your body, at worst, the dissolution of your consciousness.

My current situation was still optimistic; it was merely the rejection between my soul and body, not yet the full separation of soul from flesh.

I noticed my physical form lying quietly on the dormitory bed, with Chen Hao sleeping soundly beside me. The others were still absent from the room, but in the dormitory floated several clusters of black mist. I stared intently.

Within the black mist were several small ghosts with green faces and sharp teeth, but they did not approach Chen Hao or me.

Surrounding both of us was a subtle shield of light, which seemed to protect us.

I searched carefully for the source of this energy shield, and discovered it came from the contract playing cards we carried.

Yet the thickness of the shield visibly diminished, and it felt as though it would soon vanish completely.

When that happened, no one could guarantee what these little ghosts might do.

I resolved to break free from sleep paralysis at once, directing my thoughts towards my right hand.

I clearly remembered that, as I slept, my right hand rested not far above my head. If I could regain control of it, I might escape the paralysis immediately.

The method of breaking free is not so difficult, but it does require effort. You must control some part of your real body to wake yourself, and then you can escape the paralysis.

I cannot speak for others, but I am well accustomed to these occurrences.

Before university, especially during my final year of high school, I frequently experienced sleep paralysis during my midday naps. Almost every time, I managed to wake myself; afterward, my face would be pale, my body drenched in cold sweat. Exhaustion would follow, but I knew I could not sleep again—if I did, I would surely fall back into paralysis, and fighting it in a state of utter fatigue would be futile.

One such episode stands out in my memory.

It was a dream within a dream. I remember waking in the dream and going to school, fetching water in the classroom, and attending early morning lessons as usual. Attending class, recess, lunch, class again, dinner—everything seemed routine. I lived a whole week in the dream without realizing it was a false reality. But after a week, I noticed something amiss.

It was because of a particular person. In reality, he was my seatmate, but our relationship was cold; he rarely engaged with me. Yet in the dream world, he was unusually friendly—an anomaly that made me suspicious.

Once I realized this dream world was false, the entire environment shattered, and I plunged into a pitch-black space, controlled once more by an invisible force.

Yes, it was the sensation of sleep paralysis.

Having experienced it many times, I was not particularly concerned, as the plot was always the same.

Your body cannot move, many people stand by your side, you hear their voices but cannot discern their words. Sometimes something presses down on you, or someone touches you, especially in those sensitive places they visit most.

But this time was different.

I distinctly heard a voice in my mind, urgently calling, "This is not an ordinary sleep paralysis—wake up!"

"If you don’t wake up now—"

"You will never wake up again!"

Hearing this sent chills down my spine.

I began to will my hand to move, feeling as though my obedient arm now weighed a thousand pounds. With all my strength, I managed to lift it just slightly, continuing to raise my right hand slowly.

Mentally, I urged myself onward.

"Raise your right hand!"

"Raise it!"

Heaven rewards the diligent—at last, I felt a burning pain on my right cheek, and I sat bolt upright in bed like a startled bird.

"So it was only a dream."

I looked back at my thoroughly soaked sheets, my pajamas clammy with cold sweat.

Just as I was about to tidy up, a sinister laughter sounded behind me.

Instinctively, I turned—and saw a hideous, twisted face, tongue protruding, barely three centimeters from my own.

My taut nerves snapped; I stared in terror, unable to utter a sound, and then collapsed backward.

The moment my head touched the pillow, I awoke.

This time, I truly returned to reality.

Looking at my damp quilt and sheets, I felt a lingering dread. Glancing at my watch—

Five-thirty in the morning.

This was the most dangerous sleep paralysis episode I had ever experienced in high school, and after that, I began to take such incidents seriously.

So this time, it took little effort for me to wake myself using my right hand.

But once I regained consciousness, I discovered my surroundings had changed completely.

I was dressed in a tattered hospital gown, a yellowed hanging lamp above my head swaying with the wind. The lighting in the room was poor, but I could see another person lying in the bed beside mine.

The window was tightly shut, boarded up.

I cautiously moved to the window and peered outside.

Only endless darkness met my eyes.

Turning back, a powerful stench of decay assaulted my nostrils. I suppressed the urge to vomit and quickly retreated to my bed.

"Where on earth is this place?"

Before I could think further, something grabbed my lower leg.

I was yanked off the bed in an instant.

As I was dragged, I managed to seize a fork from the bedside table.

When my body hit the floor, I drove the fork into the floorboards, anchoring myself so that I would not be dragged further. Then my left hand shot out a beam of light, illuminating the room.

A completely rotted hand clutched my leg, beside it a massive head with jaws open, ready to attack me with its sharp fangs.

My scalp tingled, and I quickly kicked away the hand with my other leg. A flash of white light slashed through the creature beneath the bed, splitting it in two.

Still shaken, I hurriedly climbed back onto the bed, attempting to calm myself.

After so many ordeals, after witnessing so much life and death, I was still thoroughly frightened.

How had I suddenly appeared in this place?

Then, from the corridor, came a bizarre voice, giving me the answer I sought.

"Heh heh, welcome to the world of nightmares."