Page 13 of Dreamscape Therapies

REM interruption syndromes.

Obscure mythology forums.

Three separate knitting websites that I clicked on accidentally but now am genuinely interested in.

Meanwhile, Vincent’s patient file sits open beside my keyboard.

Vincent Klein

Age: 38

Occupation: Bar Owner

Shifter: Yes/No If yes, please list shifted form: Skinwalker

Symptoms: Chronic fatigue, fragmented sleep, recurring yarn dreams, inability to sustain REM cycles.

Beneath that is the part that bothers me most.

Notes: Patient reports being watched in his dreams.

I rub my eyes and check the clock. 12:23 a.m. I’ve been at this for hours, and I’m no closer to figuring this mess out.

At first, I assumed the dreams were symbolic. People dream weird things all the time. Teeth falling out. Drowning in soup. Showing up to work naked except for socks. The subconscious is a deeply unserious place, and yarn nightmares aren’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen, but Vincent’s dreams aren’t random.

They’re structured and recurring. The environments change, but certain elements remain consistent. The yarn, the feeling of being watched, and the interruption before he can make it to REM sleep are all signs that someone is building the dreams. Dreams aren’t supposed to maintain that kind of consistency for months unless something is actively reinforcing them.

And whatever it is that’s keeping Vincent trapped on the surface of his own sleep is nothing good.

It’s bugging the hell out of me that I can’t figure this out. Normal nightmares spike fear, and sleep parasites feed on that fear, draining the victim of emotional energy, but they don’t deliberately interrupt someone’s REM cycles. It’s too intentional to be a coincidence.

I open another browser window and type:

REM INTERRUPTION ENTITY

The results are overwhelming.

Mare. Baku. Alp. Popobawa. Oneiroi. Phobetor.

I scroll through the list, mentally crossing them off as I go.

It can’t be an Alp because there’s no external presence in the room during his dreams. Not a Kokma, because he isn’t suffocating while he sleeps.

Maybe I’m focusing on the wrong thing. Maybe the yarn matters more than the sleep disruption.

I add another search.

SUPERNATURAL YARN DEITIES

The results are, as expected, unhelpful at best.

A Brownie? It seems unlikely that one would be responsible for six months of psychological torture, but at this point, it doesn’t hurt to consider anything.

I continue scrolling, and nothing. Another page. Nothing.

I lean back and yawn so hard my jaw cracks. The clock reads 2:52 a.m. I really should get some sleep. Vincent’s next appointment is tomorrow, and judging by our last visit, I have a feeling it’s going to be a doozy.

My phone sits beside my laptop, the screen dark from disuse. I pick it up and hover my thumb over my brother’s name.