I glance around uneasily, looking for any signs that suggest they followed me here. For a split second I think I see a smudge of darkness, a pocket in this world where the edges are slightly blurred and warped, but in an instant, it’s gone. I blink several times, hoping that my dry eyeballs simply need lubrication to make the figure appear clearer. But when my eyes finally settles on the spot, I see that there is nothing there. Nothing at all.

“Er….sir? I said that will be $57.55”, a voice says sternly, breaking the concentration I have worked so hard to build. I shake my head to clear that strange feeling that sits on my shoulders. The feeling that I’m being watched.

The cashier in front of me, a teenage girl with purple hair that looks terrible when paired with the red polo shirt of her uniform, looks at me with a scowl. I glance at her apologetically and then at the plastic bag she’s prepared. It’s filled with flashlights, nightlights, a new Bluetooth speaker, and a bag of coffee beans. All the necessary ingredients to prevent a good nights sleep.

I quickly fish the cash out of my pocket, handing her a fifty and two fives.

Once the transaction is complete, I grip the plastic bag tightly and walk quickly out of the store. As I walk along the crowded streets, my gaze combing through the crowds of people, that familiar unease settles in my bones. I feel beads of sweat collect at the nape of my neck and along my hairline, my nerves set on overdrive.

I reach my free hand out and pinch at the tender flesh of my forearm. Immediately, a sharp pain blooms at the site.

Okay, that’s a good sign I guess.

It must mean I’m awake.

All of this is real.

I pick up my pace, walking faster through the busy streets, eager to get to my apartment.

I’m just about to turn the corner towards my street, when I bump into a tall figure. I hit them with so much force that I am about to drop the bag in my hand and have to stumble back a little to catch my footing.

“Oh…I’m so sorry man I wasn’t watching where-“, but the words freeze in my throat as my eyes drag upward to take in his features. The dark trenchcoat he is wearing is long and heavy, showing a peek of a white dress shirt at the collar. His hair, equally as dark, is neat and sleek, pulled away from his face.

His face.

Something about his face brings a chill to my spine. It’s blank, emotionless, more a mask that anything else. Carved into his right cheek, just beneath those pale ice chip eyes, is a symbol. A snakelike serpent coiled in a circle, the end of its tail in its mouth. It is surrounding by a sliver of a waning moon that’s set deep into his skin.

The cuts are still red and though not pooling with blood, it is evident that they are new.

A sound escapes my throat, somewhere between a gasp and a shriek.

Oh no

Oh gods no

They’ve found me. They’ve somehow managed to lift from the confines of my mind and enter the real world. My body had just recovered from the effects of their last visit. The visit that had been in my dreams.

I remember bits and pieces of it - their bloodied scars, their beady, soulless eyes and the feel of those ice cold fingers around my throat.

I reach out a shaking hand and shove the figure hard in the chest. He doesn’t move at all, but only stares at me, confused.

I squeeze my eyes shut again, trying to determine if the figure in front of me is real or not.

When I open my eyes I see that his eyes are actually blue, not icy white. The blank expression is gone, instead, his face is pulled into a look of confusion and worry. The symbol on his cheek is missing, replaced with smooth, unblemished flesh.

“Hey, it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”, the man asks, his eyes full of regret.

I mumble something to him, though I am unsure what.

When he has slipped behind the corner, I pinch my skin worriedly. The pain returns sharply and for the hundredth time today, I am reminded that I am not dreaming. That this is all real, and perhaps they did exactly what I feared they’d do. They’ve found a way to find me, even here, away from the dreamscape. It seems as though whether I am awake or asleep, they still manage to find me.