The Sleep Experiment Novels & Stories

" The screen lit up. It showed the classroom. At 6 a.m., all 40 students sat upright, backs straight, books open, reading aloud. Every page turned at the same moment, perfectly in sync, like they were one person. Their eyes were focused, but there was nothing behind them. The bell rang for a ten-minute break. No one stood up, spoke, or left for the restroom. They stayed in their seats, backs straight, some reading, some working through problems. The room stayed silent. At lunch, they lined up, got their food, and sat down. They lifted their utensils at the same time. Every bite followed the same pattern: chew 20 times, then swallow together. The only sound was the faint clink of utensils. Th

In a dark room, on a king sized bed, a handsome man lay, peacefully asleep. Nothing disturbed the darkness. Well, except for a suspicious lump of blanket on the corner of the bed. It lay there, motionless. Oh... Wait... It wasn't actually motionless at all. It was moving so slowly it gave an impression of being completely still. If one observed carefully, every minutes or two, the distance between Adrian and this lump of blanket reduced by an inch. Had anyone witnessed the spectacle, they would have assumed some strange arctic caterpillar had somehow wandered into the room and was slowly approaching the man on the bed with it.

“I should ask you that question. I don’t know if you even got four hours of sleep last night.” Adam smiled, eyes still half closed, cheeks puffy and sleep rumpled. It was good to know not even he, Mr. Walking Perfection, could look good right after getting up. He looked adorable, all messy-haired and bloated up, still wearing the pajamas provided by the facility. We both had to wear their clothing during our duration in the suites and the labs for sterilization purposes. “I woke up just after you left the room,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. What are you doing?”

Nash wasn't going to go easy on me tonight just because I was sleep deprived. After entering the room and doing the paranoid ritual, I flopped onto the bed. The pillow was fluffy and the mattress soft. I was totally at bliss with how they seem to eat up my fatigue. I sank further into the bed after removing my shoes but didn't bother changing into sleepwear. With a large yawn, it didn't take long for me to drift off.

“You’re the successful experiment of the virus. You should have never been sick since you were a child, and you won’t be troubled by any form of cancer or illness. The results found in your body are what those people want.” Maisie’s fingertips trembled slightly. She even stared at him in disbelief. Strix told her that when the sleeper virus first appeared, it could make the infected not fall ill during the one-year incubation period—it could even fight cancer. Because of this, someone kept studying the sleeper virus and experimented with it secretly even after the incident involving the princess. Those nobles did not have the balls to use the virus on themselves, so they could only find some

She was in the room. I could feel her watching me. “Hmph,” Lillian muttered under her breath. Her blouse created a rustling noise as she moved to bring her arms together. “Sleeping at this hour?” I stayed still. Motionless. My heart pounded in my chest but I maintained a steady breathing pattern which I had perfected through mirror practice for weeks. Lillian reminded herself that she had never taken morning naps. She spoke with enough volume for me to hear her words and I understood she directed her speech at me while she tested and waited for any sign of my nervousness.

In his dreams, the car ran over her again and again, the nightmare repeating endlessly. Sarah noticed the exhaustion around his eyes, the puffy bags beneath them, and the dark circles. He probably hadn't slept well for days, or perhaps had been living in nightmares every night since returning from West Ridge. What he needed most right now was sleep. Sarah guided him to the couch and took out a pocket watch to hypnotize him. After the watch swung for the last time, Zachary fell into a deep sleep. Sarah brought out a blanket and covered him. "Get some good rest."

That night, the nightmares came like a tidal wave. I was back in the dark van, the smell of gasoline and sweat. Hands grabbing. A mask over my face. My mother’s screams fading into the distance. Then the bright room. The straps. The cold gel on my temples. The voice saying, “Begin the stimulus. Record the neural response.” I screamed myself awake, bolting upright in the bed, drenched in cold sweat, my throat raw. The door flew open before the echo of my scream had died. Jeremy and Raphael. They weren’t in sleep clothes. They were in jeans and t-shirts, as if they’d been waiting, listening.

I found a chair that was probably older than I was and sat down and loaded the game and looked between the screens. Waiting was the part most people did not understand about this work. They thought it was always moving fast. Sometimes it was. Most of the time it was sitting in a garage at two in the morning watching men sleep and eating whatever was in your kit because you had not had a proper meal since morning and the next phase could not start until the subjects were conscious enough to have a conversation. I pulled out a ration bar and ate it without enthusiasm. On the left screen Washington shifted. His hand moved first. Then his head. The specific slow surfacing of someone coming up fr

Yet after more than half an hour, everything finally settled down. After all, Ray had used very limited amounts. This dosage simulated what he'd experienced in his previous life when he was lightly grazed by poison ice hail—only the first man had received a slightly higher amount. He carefully recorded each subject: their names, which building they lived in, everything. He questioned them separately, so any lies were immediately exposed. Ray played no favorites. He even included Carla in the experiment. He had no romantic interest in that woman whatsoever. He wasn't some horny animal that couldn't move when he saw a pretty face.