Part III Of The Nightmare

Author: Lev Lu (he/him)

Still present in the trauma bay with the young patient and internally banishing thoughts of The Grinning Stitcher as selective focus on actionable tasks numbed the horror, I looked at the boy's eyes again. His face being mangled was unable to hide the sense of pain, distress and panic in his eyes as he gazed around the faces staring down at him in the room. It struck a nerve in me. This time, not fear, but an identified, visceral connection to a part of me. It felt like deja vu. 

After the patient was handed over to the emergency surgery team, I took a breather, slowing down my thoughts. A lightbulb moment illuminated in my mind. “Ohhhhhh”, I quietly let out while walking down the hospital corridor alone. “The vision in my room that night. The eyes of begging from The Grinning Stitcher. Eerily similar. What does this mean?” I thought. As I headed to a nearby trauma bay to prepare for the next patient, I crossed paths with Eden, who'd just started his shift. After our greetings, I briefly updated Eden on transpired events in that trauma bay, and the connection I felt. “That's interesting dude; we'll talk more about when we’re not on shift”. Eden patted me on the shoulder twice while giving me a genuine smile before we parted ways to continue our duties.

The next morning, after an exhausting night shift, Eden and I returned to my place with lattes in hand, mine being matcha and Eden’s being iced coffee. We settled on the couch in the living room next to each other, placing our beverages on the small coffee table in front of us. “So, I’ve been thinking about your situation, and I may have connected a piece of the puzzle. Do you remember the time I called you when you were in the Gold Coast, and you mentioned not having any visions or symptoms at all?” Eden said. After a few seconds of memory recall, I replied, “Oh, yep. That’s right”, I replied. “You were also overjoyed, chill and stress free that week, right?” Eden continued. “I felt free, like I had no responsibilities or worries, absolutely”, I said in return.

After briefly comprehending this information, Eden shared thoughts unforeseen to my conscious mind, which now seemed so obvious. “You see The Grinning Stitcher when you’re under a lot of stress or aren’t doing well. He disappears, like a curse lifted, when you’re doing well and mentally balanced”. I blinked a few times while staring into the distance, processing these words. I then looked to Eden in disbelief, confusion and awe, a strange mix of emotions I’m unsure of how to describe. A few moments of silence passed before Eden hugged me, then saying, “It can be a lot to take in, but take your time. I’m here for you dude”. A warm feeling of gratitude then hit me and I gave a weak smile to Eden, still heavy by the newfound revelation. 

Later that evening, after Eden had already left, the subconscious linking of information sank in more, and I thought to myself, “That makes so much sense, but I still don’t know what it means. UGH”. I spent the rest of the evening preparing a quick dinner before putting on a romantic comedy on Netflix. I’d had enough of horror for one day, and rom-coms are a respite of sorts from my typical choices of horror films.

One day after work, I spoke to my manager about feeling stressed and heavy from the nature of emergency nursing, with the vicarious trauma. They suggested I see a mental health therapist to discuss these challenges, advice I took on board and actioned the next day. I’d grown desperate for an escape from this nightmare, and I couldn’t do it alone. Unfortunately, there was a one-month waitlist to see a psychologist, but at least my name was on the list.

It’d been three weeks since the realisation Eden put together for me, and I have my first therapy session in a couple of days. It’d been a long time since I saw someone for psychological concerns; almost ten years, having not been since high school. My doctor was concerned about my mental well-being, having very morbid thoughts and constantly spiralling downhill from depression and anxiety. Honestly, I didn't know what therapy entailed, and I was terrified of what I would encounter. It's been up and down the following years after graduating high school, however, it no longer has a grip on me like it used to. I don't know how, but it worked miracles for me. Despite this success, these present visions feel on another level, one that isn’t so straight forward with clear, easy to decipher answers. Not easy to me anyway as I’m directly living the nightmare.

In session with my therapist, I started by explaining what's been going on with the visions and visceral, unexplained symptoms from the beginning. I proceeded to mention the connection Eden had made between poor mental health and The Grinning Stitcher manifestations. Elaborating on notable events within the past month, I disclosed, “Something has changed. I'm unsure of the root of it, but the dread and terror of seeing these gruesome visions is starting to weaken, and there's a small but gradual internal shift. Fear is merging into confusion and sympathy for these eyes of begging and pain from a still undeniably creepy smile that is forced.

I don't know if it's because I'm a horror enthusiast and am becoming desensitised to this reality, or whether it's something deeper”. The therapist continued making notes as I was speaking. An hour flew by like a jet in the sky, and the therapist finished up and scheduled a next session with me. I felt a little lighter when heading home, having let loose these nightmares to a professional to help. No specific strategies were discussed, and I remember faintly at the back of my mind that it’s normal for first sessions to go down this way.

Intermission

That weekend, Eden and I went to a horror escape room on the outskirts of the city. We hadn't played one in over six months, given how costly it is. The theme of this game is being held hostage in a basement after being kidnapped by a psychopath, with the goal being to escape the basement. It was aptly named, “THE KIDNAPPING”. The twist is that there's a live actor present, who plays the captor. It was our first time playing a live actor escape room, and despite the visions I've been having, I felt excited for the challenge. Both Eden and I are escape room enthusiasts, and have completed over twenty different rooms together. We love the thrill of it.

After game rules were explained to us, and a walkie talkie to request for hints being provided, it was informed one of us had to be handcuffed at the start as part of the game. Eden volunteered, and I didn't protest. Following this, the game master led us down a brightly lit corridor, guiding us into the starting room of the game. The host proceeded to lock one end of the handcuff to Eden’s left wrist, and the other cuff to a pipe along the wall in the first room, which was only dimly lit by two faint yellow lights. “You have an hour and a half to escape. The time will start as soon as this door is closed. Best of luck” the employee said before closing the door behind him.

It took a minute or so for our eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. I could see Eden’s face and obvious details within the room such as pipes running along the wall, the door to the next room with a directional lock, a barrel in the centre with a flashlight on it and two locked boxes to be unlocked. Speakers placed on the ceilings of the room echoed an eerie, spine-tingling soundtrack, coupled with random noises of footsteps, maniacal laughter and bursts of jumpscares. “This is already intense”, Eden said while pointing to me to grab the flashlight. “Yeah, and we don’t know when the psychopath is going to return”, I replied while grabbing the flashlight and turning it on. “This is actually really creepy dude”, I continued. Admittedly, it was the most terrifying escape room I’ve ever chosen to do as the game master informed us of how the live acting works.

“The psychopath can come in at any time, without warning. There will be no physical contact with you, but they won’t like seeing you trying to escape. Just be aware of that. And also, avoid standing behind the starting door you come in from for safety reasons”, the host explained. My nerves tensed up as I recalled these words. “I’m scared dude”, I said to Eden, who was examining the room in the faint light. “We’ll be okay, man”, Eden replied, seemingly unfazed by the horror experience. The next fifteen minutes was spent deciphering codes spray painted on the wall to unlock a number combination lock, which led to a handcuff key. “Ah, so much better”, Eden expressed while shaking his hands loose after I unlocked the handcuffs. 

Not a moment too soon, a loud bang was heard at the door, opposite to the side Eden and I were located. I froze in fear, startled by the door being kicked in and the sight of a tall, unidentifiable person dressed in all black entered the room, face covered by a ski mask, a metal object resembling the shape of a machete being held in their right hand. “OI YOU”, they shouted while pointing the object at Eden. “What are you doing out of the handcuff?”, they continued, voices being more aggressive. I was still paralysed in fear, now staring at the ground, as Eden grabbed the flashlight from my hand and shone it at them, while his other hand was placed on my shoulder to comfort me. The psychopath proceeded to walk towards the barrel in the centre of the room, slamming the metal object into the barrel repeatedly, noises reverberating with every hit. Goraning angrily, the psychopath exited the room, slamming the door behind them.

I could still feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest, hairs standing up at the back of my neck and shivers of fear travelling down my spine. “Damn that was epic”, Eden excitedly expressed before returning his attention back to me. After a minute or two, I came back to my senses, asking, “How are you not terrified of this?”. Eden responded in return, “I’ve learnt to confront demons and fears in my life head-on, and to use fear as fuel instead of drowning in it. My nerves are heightened, and I feel the adrenaline rush right now, however, it’s not consuming me. I have full control”. Moving close to my ear, Eden whispered, “I’m going to troll the psychopath when they’re back”. I gave a nod in response.

We continued finding clues and solving puzzles in the first room, and had the code to the directional lock leading to the second room. I called out to Eden the directions as he was working the lock. “IT WORKED”, he exclaimed happily as the lock opened. Looking up at the clock, we had fifty-five minutes remaining, unsure of how many rooms lie ahead. Eden pushed the door open, flashlight in hand, revealing a staircase leading down. Similar to the first room, it was dimly lit by faint yellow lights, with the bottom of the staircase being more dark. The sounds of the speakers followed us as we started down the stairs.

Ten minutes of exploring and starting on subsequent puzzles passed, and it seemed eerily strange having not heard from the psychopath again. “Do you think they’re going to come down here?” I asked Eden. “I’m not sure”, he replied. Just as these words left our voice boxes, a loud bang echoed downstairs from the floor above, and the unmistakable, heavy footsteps of the psychopath could be detected. I looked at Eden in disbelief, who once again was not only unfazed, but rather, had a smile of amusement on his face. I moved back to the corner of the room furthest from the staircase while Eden walked to stand between me and the bottom of the staircase, centre of the room. I was holding the flashlight and shone it past Eden to the bottom of the staircase. “What are you gonna do?” I let out to Eden. He turned around briefly and said, “Just watch”, returning his gaze to the top of the staircase as the shadow of the psychopath peeped through the door leading down the stairs.

Out of nowhere, Eden pulls out a Jigsaw mask from the back of his belt and puts it on his face. Despite the dim lighting, I could tell it was a high quality mask, complete with the black hair and signature features. I didn't even know he brought that along. I couldn't help but let out a chuckle and smile in amusement. The sound of metal grinding along the handrail, combined with footsteps grew louder down the creaking, wooden steps. Angry, unintelligible words could be heard from the psychopath. I continued shining the flashlight at the bottom of the staircase, Eden still in my sights. 

As the psychopath reached the last step and turned his head to face our direction, Eden tilted his head left and in his Jigsaw impersonation said, “Do you want to play a game?”. The impersonation sounds so real I don’t know how Eden does it. I couldn't help but laugh, perhaps a bit too loud, as I noticed the psychopath staring in disbelief and shock at Eden's face. Their eyes also highlighted fear in the mix, the angry presentation smothered by this turn of events. I continued chuckling to myself as this situation continued unfolding, the psychopath being unsure of how to respond to the Jigsaw mask.

After a minute or two, the psychopath uttered, “What in the hell?”. They then proceeded to retreat back up the stairs rapidly, likely to speak to their colleagues who'd been viewing this situation unfold live through the cameras. “I don't think they expected this as part of their job description”, I said to Eden, amused. Eden turned around to face me, mask still on his face. “How do I look?” Eden asked. “That's terrifying”, I replied. We celebrated our little victory before continuing the escape room game.

Surprisingly, after finding amusement and laughter in Eden’s prank, I felt more relaxed, and if the psychopath were to return for another round, I was mentally more prepared. Luckily, for the rest of the game, we didn't encounter the psychopath or any live jumpscares, likely due to Eden's ingenious stunt. We'd made it past the second and third rooms, and with five minutes left in the final room before escaping, we felt the pressure. We had to decipher a five letter code to unlock a box containing the exit door code. Scrambling to solve the puzzle, we entered hyper focus mode, temporarily forgetting that we were playing in a horror room. A few tense minutes later, just in the nick of time, we escaped, with only ten seconds to spare. “Dudeeee”, I exclaimed aloud. “I can't believe we made it”, Eden expressed.

The game master, Noah, greeted us upon our exit. “Congratulations on your escape!” Noah expressed. “I've never seen our live actors being outsmarted before. This is a first in all the years I've hosted games”, Noah continued. Noah proceeded to call his colleague over, the person who played the psychopath. “I was scared of that Jigsaw mask. I didn't expect that at all. Usually I'm the one doing the scaring”, an unfamiliar voice said from around the corner. Their name is Hunter, the actor for the psychopath. Their ski mask was removed, still remaining dressed in all black, hands empty. “I'm so impressed. I decided to stop scaring you because I was outdone”, they continued. “Oh how the tables have turned”, Eden chimed in. “I came prepared. I have seen too many horror movies”, Eden continued. After a few more minutes of conversation, Eden and I exited the venue.

The next day, I had the morning off as I was rostered on for another night shift. Night shifts are often exhausting because of forcing myself awake when I want to just crash into bed and sleep, or at least, have downtime. After years in this job, I've never fully been accustomed to the constant changes in my circadian rhythm, rotating on 24 hour shifts. I guess it's something to accept in this job. My sleep last night went surprisingly well, and I unconsciously replayed Eden outsmarting the psychopath in a somewhat replicated dream of reality. 

When I woke, I was still processing what Eden had done yesterday. “How is he so brave and fearless? Fear didn’t control him; he controlled fear” I thought to myself. A lightbulb moment sparked in my mind. Perhaps it was something I could try with The Grinning Stitcher; facing the fear head on, despite a part of me being reluctant to. Speaking of which, I hadn’t seen The Grinning Stitcher for two weeks whatsoever. It felt a little odd. The last I saw him was in a distinct dream I had, and while I can’t remember all the details, the feeling stuck with me. The combination of unease and sympathy, and the whispers of, “help me” somehow echoed in my brain through the stitched, forced smile of the boy. I guess dreams are distorted and trippy like that. Before long, night circled around and I headed to work.

END OF PART III