The Sleep Experiment Novels & Stories

The precision of his movements, the way he uses his strength, he looked recharged with a power nap after a long week of sleep deprivation. Days come and go until it's been three days since we first did a sleeping together trial. "It really helped, huh?" I said with a long sigh. It's day three and we just had our dinner. We agreed to have some coffee, so we're still sitting at the table outside. "Mm-mm." He agreed with a nod, sipping on his cup. "Well? What were your observations? I'd like to know." He placed the cup down and looked at me. "Sleeping together--"

They did not know how to contact the organization, and no one continued the experiments. Alexander saw such a sight when he snuck in at night. These people would typically do their tasks, and the place would be bustling with activities. However, only a few people were around. Some wandered around yawning, while others lounged with half-closed eyes, almost drifting off to sleep. They could have returned to their bedroom to sleep but chose to stay up despite having nothing to do. After all, they feared one of the higher-ups returning and catching them slacking off. All experiments had come to a screeching halt, whether ongoing, yet to commence, successful, or unsuccessful. Only the door to the

She did not know what she was getting herself into but all these did not matter to her and all she wanted was to experience what she hadn’t experience for a while. Lincon takes his toys and this is a microscope and his desktop and starts doing his experiments. He tries creating the serum once again and does new calculations and everybody else thinks that he is asleep. At around 12 am at midnight he is so worked out and finds himself sleeping at the desk in his room. He suddenly wakes up and realizes Geri is not yet in the room. He stands and switches off the light and throws himself at the bed. Geri might have come from the forests but he was a man and could not resist the temptation of Linc

Chris POV I didn't dream often. This was a function of training rather than psychology — the Monkey Group had been very deliberate about sleep conditioning, understanding that an operative who dreamed was an operative whose unconscious mind was processing things that should have been filed and closed. They had techniques for it. Methods of mental architecture that pushed the processing down into something quieter and more manageable than dreams. The techniques had worked for nine years. They stopped working on a Tuesday night three weeks into my residence in the east wing suite.

His expectations were sky-high, and I often found myself redoing experiments three, sometimes four times, just to meet his standards. But as exhausting as it was, I loved it. The thrill of discovery, the challenge of problem-solving, the sheer satisfaction when an experiment finally worked—it made all the sleepless nights worth it. I glanced at Sarah, who was meticulously noting down observations. We were all the same here, driven by something bigger than ourselves. “These are coating so well,” Sarah beamed. I nodded in agreement. We’d left the drugs to dry overnight to see how seamlessly the powder would coat them, and the results were fantastic.

That day, I seemed to have a nightmare during the daytime. At a large table on the first floor of the studio, I sat on one side. And Patrick sat on the other side. To prevent him from finding out that I had stayed up all night, I drank two cups of coffee in a row. By noon, although my eyes were open, my brain was almost out of function. With a mouse in my hands, I clicked on the computer screen haphazardly. In the end, I couldn't hold on any longer. Looking up at Ji Patrick and seeing that he was concentrating on his work, I rested on the table and fell asleep.

“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?”

Sullivan pondered for a moment before he replied, "I'm not quite sure about that yet. The only thing certain is that something is indeed not quite right with you." "In that case, please check whether I’ve been hypnotized or not. If I was, when did it happen?" Julien said through gritted teeth. Dr. Sullivan stood up. "Of course. President Flint, please close your eyes while I check for you." "Alright." Julien nodded and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, it was one hour later. He had slept for an hour. What surprised him was that he did not even know when he fell asleep. "How was it, Dr. Sullivan?" Julien's heart could not help but sink when he looked at the doctor, who was frown

“I like Day 5,600. Can we skip to that?” _Silence._ Everyone laughed. Me. Adrian. Susan. Even Bear barked. “No skipping,” Susan said. “You have to live it. All 5,600. Sucks, but rules.” *11:59 PM. [SFX: MONITOR. THEN BREATH. THEN COUNTDOWN.]* Bedroom. Lights off. _Static. Then breathing._ Three sets. Monitor. Adrian. Awake. Next to me. 67 BPM.

**Nadia** It started at two in the morning. Not dramatically. Not the way it happened in films, with a single definitive moment @ a clear next step. Just a tightening that woke me from a sleep I had not been fully inside anyway, the kind of light restless sleep that had been the only kind available for the last three weeks, and I lay there for a moment measuring it before I decided it was real. Then another one. I counted the space between them. Eight minutes.