Novel & Cerita The Sleepwalkers

“Do not think of it in such common terms, June,” he whispered, his voice smooth as silk but heavy as lead. “You are looking at this through the lens of human morality, but we are wolves. We are creatures of destiny and design.”He stepped even closer, his heat radiating through my thin, silver dress, a cruel contrast to the damp stone wall at my back.

No one dare say a word of what happened as if they were embarrassed to confront me. However, I could not help but notice Melvin and Karen kept on glancing into each other's eyes as if they were reading their minds. "All right, I'm gonna say it," I said. "The strange phenomenon you guys had experienced earlier is called – sleepwalking. At first, I thought it was just a strange coincidence, Melvin opening the trunk to check on the vampire while Karen..." I paused for a bit, thinking about what Karen was doing in the middle of the forest, and jumped into the creek, in a way that she will not get bothered. But I could barely think.

After sending the message, I stared at the phone screen, wondering how Harry would respond. Within seconds, his reply popped up: “From what you’ve described, this could be related to Neil's psychological state. Stress or environmental factors can trigger sleepwalking, especially in children who often exhibit this behavior when facing significant mental pressure. However, to pinpoint the root of the issue, professional medical intervention is likely needed—at least film documentation or a personal examination to get a more accurate understanding.”

With fear. I cannot begin to wrap my head around this. What it means. How can anyone go to bed and wake up here, in the middle of no freaking where? “Zayne…” my voice breaks and my breath starts coming out in my pants. And I realize that I’m shaking, I’m terrified down to my bones, I push back slowly from his chest, “Was i- was I sleepwalking?” One of his palms smooths up and down my back. “Come, let’s get you inside, it’s cold out here”

Lucien woke, sat, named her, and she named him back, not as ritual but as the short rope you throw across the small water between beds when gods are lurking for metaphors. They walked the house—not a patrol, a presence. In the foyer three children slept across the chalk square like dropped punctuation. Maera snored and refused to apologize. Isolde muttered a letter to a cousin as if the cousin had refused to be alive long enough to receive it. The hinge purred once, which is either physics or gratitude when a city is tired.

I commanded, not with a key, but with the memory of the garage in Coldwater. The city's perimeter didn't open; it welcomed. A shimmering curtain of light parted, and we burst into the streets of Elysium. The silence here was absolute, yet filled with information. People moved along the walkways real people, with the warmth of skin and the clarity of data. They weren't "users" or "assets." They were Phase-Walkers. They looked at us with eyes that held a profound, peaceful recognition. "The Grey-Claws and the Board... they spent decades trying to quantify this," Dax said, dismounting as we skidded to a halt in a plaza made of polished, singing stone. "But you can't quantify a dream."

The moonlight caught his face, and I could see that he was still deeply asleep, his body moving on autopilot while his mind remained somewhere far away. "Marcus?" My voice came out high and thin, barely more than a squeak. He took one shuffling step forward, then another, his bare feet dragging against the tile. He was sleepwalking. I had witnessed it once before, years ago, after an especially brutal week at the office. He had wandered into the kitchen, tried to make a sandwich with his eyes closed, then shuffled back to bed without ever surfacing into consciousness.

She was stuck, unable to free herself, and it was this small, mundane detail that had kept her from moving. For a moment, I was overwhelmed with a strange mix of relief and further anxiety. The source of her odd behavior was simple and harmless, yet the eerie ambiance of the situation was far from dissipated. The dim light flickered, casting long shadows on the walls, and the silence of the house pressed in on me, making each second stretch into an eternity. “You are sleepwalking,” I whispered to myself, nodding my head as if confirming a realization. “Just wake up already,” I muttered, shaking her gently. But she remained in a deep, unresponsive state. Her eyes stayed closed, and she contin

As I looked at the man I once loved, all I saw was someone utterly revolting. "You said it yourself. She felt humiliated whenever I gave her money. So… why should I spend another cent on her?" Even beggars knelt when asking for money. Meanwhile, Dominic and Paige? They had the audacity to take from my pocket while standing tall—and still have the nerve to point the finger at me. I had never met two people so shameless in my entire life!

The shadows elongate farther, creeping like fingers reaching for her. Something is strange, yet he can sense no evil around. What is going on? Sera whines in her sleep, tossing and turning now. Not having anything else to do, Nathanael reaches out for her. His hand touches her shoulder and Sera stops struggling; her face peaceful again. A light outside the window causes the shadows to slowly dissipate. The light grows brighter and brighter. Curiously, Nathanael approaches the window. Lampyridae, or lightening bugs as Sera calls them, have begun to flock to her window. They float in a growing swarm suspended in the warm winter air.