Prelude:
On September 6th, 2022, William Barnett was hospitalized for a severe case of insomnia, and severely damaged retina. Official reports conducted an investigation fearing a potentially unknown toxin. Upon a sweep of Mr. Barnett’s home, no toxins were found. Instead, a journal. Desperate for leads investigators read through Mr. Barnett’s journal. Transcribed below are pages 73-82 of said journal.
Abstract:
I can’t sleep.
I just, can’t sleep.
The sun goes down, and my heart rate relaxes. Safe.
For now, I’m safe.
It’s been, five days, I think? It’s getting hard to tell. I’ve never been one to suffer insomnia before. The last sleep I had was also the cause of this episode. It was a dream that I had. I was sitting next to a baby’s crib. Holding a book in my hands. The room was dark and the baby was looking up at me, expectantly.
I don’t know why but the gaze of that child felt wrong. Like I wasn’t meant to be anywhere near them, but at the same time. I knew they were my child. I steadied myself in their gaze, sweat forming on forehead, and with a gulp, I swallowed that feeling and raised the book up to start reading. The cover of the book looked to be of two men standing outside in a field during mid day. They were dressed like wizards, with long blue robes and an absurd hat.
They held wands and appeared to be casting some sort of spell aimed directly at the sun. But, honestly it could have been anything as it looked as though a child had drawn it. The title read, “The Wizards, And The Sun.” I began reading.
Long long ago, there lived a man, he was happy and cheerful, and full of life. Everyone in his village loved him, and everything was alright. There was also another man, who’s life was not as nice. He was crass and mean and grumpy and nobody liked him. The two men lived in the same small village, yet knew nothing of each other. Their minds were both sharp and bright. But one day, the two men crossed paths. Walking down a street in opposite directions. The first man let out a cheerful hello, and the second a quiet grunt.
And on any other day, that would be that.
But as they passed each other, something special happened. Something that has only ever happened a few times before. Their lives got flipped around. The happy man was sad and the sad man was happy. Neither had any explanation for their sudden change in attitude. Neither could stop thinking about that encounter. Despite having no proof, they both knew this change had to be because, of them. But they did not know why or how.
Both men searched high and low for each other. One looked down one street the other, another. Just out of reach. And eventually they had resigned themselves to not finding them, adjusted to their new attitude and moved on. And on any other day, that would be that. But by sheer coincidence, on the same path, at the same time of day, they found each other again.
The second man let out a cheerful hello and the first let out a quiet grunt. They almost didn’t notice. But then, they gasped. And finally, introduced themselves. Turns out they were a lot alike. They liked the same things, they had the same interests, and better yet, they had the same name!
They were like a vibrating string. One a high point, the other a low one. But just like that string, they played the same note. Like a part of their soul, was embedded in the other. The only thing that differed, about these two men, were their view of the world. The first man who had lived so cheerful, thought it a wonderful place where good men were common and bad men were the exception.
Conversely the second man thought the opposite. Bad men were common and good men were the exception. They debated for hours on end, about who was right. But no matter what they tried, they were never any closer to reaching a compromise. Until they reached an epiphany.
It did not matter what they thought.
Their interpretations were what mattered. The first man lived happily, his outlook was bright, and there existed no room for misery. But upon becoming miserable himself. He could see, so clearly the flaws in his thoughts. That goodness couldn’t ever affect everyone that darkness always lurked near the edges of our vision. The second man argued with his new cheery outlook that it was meaningless staring into the dark.
That to do so, would lead only to more of it. They stared at each other for a long while. And came to the conclusion. That both men, were right. That the world they lived in, was one where good and bad men, existed. And there was no compromise. They saw a world, two worlds, in fact! But divided, by love and hate. Both aware of each other. Yet ignorant that perspective was all that mattered.
And so, they hatched a most devious plan.
Their sharp minds lead them down a path. They would need a fool. A lynchpin. Two, in fact. The first man would talk, and talk about love, and hate, right and wrong, glorious heavens, and miserable hells. A world where the bad, could atone to a God. Be forgiven of his sin. The fools words would be so strong because of that. So strong in fact, as to thrust the world unto a trance. Which it has not woke from, yet.
You see, the two men-
And that was it. I was woken up by the sound of my alarm. And the rest of that odd story had been lost to me. It plagued my mind, weighed it down and distracted me from my work. Why was i reading that story to a baby? I don’t even have a girlfriend. Why was that story a bedtime story. And what was the men’s plans?
I know, I know it’s just a dream but something about that story captivated me, spoke to me on such a deep level, like it was part of my soul. When I got home from work I immediately went to write it all down, as close to perfect as I could recall. And when I finished, I still couldn’t stop, I had to write the ending.
To figure it out.
What was their plan? Why thrust the world into a trance? What for? So many questions raced in my mind over and over again, looping through them never seeming solvable. But oh so close to revelation. The entire scenario from start to finish hit me like a semi-truck, steam rolled over everything I had assumed and felt. My entire life was holding its breath for a stupid dream with no ending. But I had to know.
I wrote and wrote and wrote, brainstorming idea, after idea. Nothing seemed to fit. The two men what? It was nearly Two A.M. And my tiredness had finally gotten the better of me. I went to my bed, and tried, desperately to get to sleep. Four A.M, still awake. But I think I’m onto something.
The sun, hadn’t been mentioned once in that entire book. So it had to be part of the men’s plans, somehow. The lynchpin talked of heavens and hells maybe the sun was a god of whatever religion they were talking about. Six A.M, no luck, the sun came up, and it felt like it was burning my skin. I couldn’t sleep. I tried to take my mind off it.
I tried to calm myself down. I wasn’t going to work today, I couldn’t, not like this. I went to watch some videos on YouTube. Hoping that somehow, it would break me from this spell. What I saw instead only worsened it. A reply to a comment I had made months ago:
“You see, the two men, had instructed their lynchpin to exclaim he was the son of the sun.”
Yes, that was it, the next part. It made perfect sense, aligned perfectly, but, how, why? Who was the commentor? How could I even be so sure? Everything felt wrong and backwards. My mind raced with thought that I could not hold for more than a few moments before it left me, and replaced itself with another. Somehow, someone had added the next part to a story I had in my dreams. I questioned them as a reply and they never responded, of course. It went on like that, a random person I had never met would say a random sentence that added to the story from my dream.
“And the son of the sun would rise again. The sun would sleep. And the son would beam his glory into a new day. Where all good and bad would be judged, and those that followed will be marked.”
-Said a cashier as I was checking out.
“The plan however, could not be enacted. Without a second lynchpin. A child who never spoke and only listened. A person like that would learn this story even as time and people changed it.”
-While on a call with my mother.
“On the day this child would be born, the followers would stare and know that they are the one. And that, they must not look away.”
-A Stranger who spoke to me while on a walk in the park.
Every moment in-between these pieces that I had gathered through unknown means was blurry. I think it had been two days since I had the dream? I can’t tell. I kept filling in the parts told to me, a story being completed by people who didn’t know each other. It made me sick just thinking about it.
“But you see, the two men were clever, they knew that bad men would follow readily. The thought that their sin could be undone and forgiven, was alluring, hypnotic.”
-I don’t remember where I heard that one…
The sun had begun burning, being in its presence made me wish for death. Like it was alive and staring at me, with hate.
“But it was a trick, by the two wise men. And, just like when those two men had first met. Everything would be flipped upside down. The sun would rise, and the followers will know, they must not look away. And the son would sleep. Because to him it’s just a bedtime story.”
Those words were my own, but, they weren’t. It just spilled out of me, like someone was controlling my entire body. Like something had forced it’s way inside of me. And made me speak it. In a half asleep daze I wrote those final words into these notes, as I did so, something shifted. Not a physical object, nor my perspective. Like the universe itself spun on an unseen axis, and the world of my room began fading out.
Shrinking to nothing but a line and then it disappeared entirely. And then I was floating, weightless in a deep and empty nothing. But in this state I knew that everyone and no one, had been here, and there was something in there with me. A presence, like when you feel someone walk into the room without any actual indication of them doing so. Like the unthinking intuition of my instincts.
I don’t think it was a god, or a demon, or anything like that. There was no benevolence, or malice. It just… was. This all encompassing presence but with no discernable emotion or motive. And then, it spoke. In a whisper a child-like voice rang out through the nothing.
“And to those who saw the truth, beyond the twisting deceit. Keep your head down, your mouth shut and LOOK AWAY.”
“The End.”
Those two words were an utter relief to hear. I thought it would be over. I thought that was all I needed to sleep. To finally finish that wretched story. But like all the others times that I had assumed that, I was wrong. The voice spoke again, no longer whispering.
“We apologize for the stress we’ve caused you. The story you’ve encountered has not yet found its time to ripen. You are early, and we are sorry. That dream was an accident. We suppose, we had just gotten…” They paused and let out a long sigh before continuing.
“Too carried away, thinking about the plan.”
“What are you? Who are you?” My voice trembling. I darted around, shifting my body in the weightless nothing to no avail. And, they laughed. With a warmth and comfort so familiar, as it echoed in nothingness around me. And in that moment all the stress and disorder I had been facing, just faded away. And everything was ok.
I wasn’t even tired. It felt so wonderful, like I was in the comfort of a lifelong friend. Something, I had no access too, outside of this place. It was the first time I was thinking straight since before that fateful night. But even then an overwhelming amount of questions still plagued my mind. But the most important I had already asked, and they laughed. As their laugh subsided, they spoke again.
“Don’t be silly, we are everyone.” They said almost cheerfully. Tears began streaming down my face as I felt the gnaw of delusion, paranoia and insomnia grasp me again. The refuge I had felt began caving around me, just as quickly as it had arrived.
“Can you help me?” I plead with tears streaming down my face. But the voice was silent. For such a long time.
“We are sorry, but we cannot. Your mind has been tainted with a knowledge man is not yet ready to know. Remember this, it does not go in vain. Your actions, previous and future, will be, wonderful.” There was a hint of proudness in their voice. Not for themselves, but for me. I began to feel myself leaving this strange place and I begged the voice not to go. To help me and keep me safe.
Every fiber of my being screamed out at me to trust them. I felt the soft embrace of a hug. And just like that I was staring in front of the completed story. Alone, and tired, sobbing. But now, I understand the dream and it’s meaning. The sun is out and I can feel it calling. I can’t sleep.
I keep hearing screaming. Although I’m pretty sure, they aren’t actually real. But I can’t help but imagine someone else walking out of their house and staring directly at the sun. Twenty-Four hours is all it would take. Twenty-Four hours to burn the retinas of all bad people, and I was one of them. As the sun circled around in our sky a chorus of anguished screams would chase it as that damn baby slept soundly.
If I want to sleep. I have to stare into the sun. My head keeps turning itself towards my window during the day. I have to fight to look away. I don’t want to, but I know I don’t get a choice. It’s noon as I write this. I don’t think I can fight for much longer. All the questions I had, don’t matter and will remain unanswered. The story must’ve been real, but that was it.
That bedtime story existing in a vacuum. With no answers to who or what or where or why or how or when. What I do know is that I’m early. I bite into a fruit not yet ripe. And the odd hospital case of a man staring into the sun until they went blind. Would be buried and forgotten. But this fate, my fate. Might one day be your own. Whenever that child is born. The streams of sunlight peaking through my closed blinds still burn, but I can hardly bring myself to tear my gaze from it. I’m barely able to focus on writing this. I have to look. I have to.
The sun is out. It’s a beautiful day.
Conclusion:
Mr. Barnett’s account is consistent with symptoms of sleep deprived psychosis. All experiences written down can be explained under this theory. However, what cannot be explained is the state the journal was found in. Wrapped in a bow, with a note reading, “For Investigators.” Additionally the pages in question were reordered. Sentences and whole paragraphs rearranged, only distinguishable from a slight change in hue and a barely visible line separating With an unknown handwriting filling in gaps that is not consistent with Mr. Barnett’s.
Attempting to analyze how the cuts were made found no known method to result in the look found in the journal. Lastly on the final page written in the unknown handwriting, a note, it read the following:
For your reading pleasure.
- With Love, C.W.O.H