The Dark Somnium - "On my birthday, My family stares at me for 24 Hours" Creepypasta | Scary Stories from Nosleep

Episode Date: September 17, 2021

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Just over two weeks ago, on Monday the 30th of August, I turned 30, and someone had to pay the price for that. Our family, the Lees, has always been seen as eccentric by the locals. Some of us have become investors, artisans, masters of niche crafts and the like. We've lived full, happy, and creatively stimulating lives, seen to the outside world as to not have a care in the world or need for anything. But, we have this life at a great cost, a ritual that must be undertaken every August 30th, known collectively as the waiting game. My family has had this tradition for over 250 years. Every member of the family above the age of 18 congregates at my family's estate, and spends

the 48 hours prior to the event, catching up, partying, and generally enjoying themselves. They are, after all, all living on borrowed time. When the final hours ticked down to the event, they detox, ensure they've slept well, done their business, and had plenty to hydrate. Because once the clock strikes midnight, they must all stay in one room until the clock again strikes midnight. The entire time, they must keep at least one other family member in eyeshot. No single member of the family must be unaccounted for.

The parlor room is structured in such a way that we can see each other, no matter where we are situated in the room. Each area is well-lit, comfortable, and accommodating, which, when you deal with roughly thirty people, is a necessity. You have to understand. Growing up in this environment had me thinking this was simply a normal tradition every family undertook. I saw no strangeness in spending my birthday away from my family members, that it was just bad luck my birthday fell on the tradition day. That, of course, would change after I turned 11. I remember the first time I learned of the waiting game. My mother was supposed to host my birthday party, but apologized and said she wouldn't be home in time for work. To that point in my life, Mom had always worked long hours to provide for us, and it was routine. I was crestfallen, but understood.

She was an art curator and loved her job with an unbridled passion. She was my hero. The fact we shared a birthday only made our bond more special in my eyes. She was a best friend as well as my mom. And I don't know a lot of kids who can say that. I still remember the smell of lavender in her hair and the way her eyes flickered and the way she hugged me tight before saying goodbye. Never forget how special you are, Theo.

The fact you are here is nothing short of a miracle. And that is worth celebrating. I love you. She kissed me on the forehead and promised us pizza when she got home to make up for it. I remember the babysitter waving her off as I got the house ready for my friends so we could play Nintendo and stay up late. But something in the pit of my stomach was uneasy, like I had missed the step up on the stairs. When mom didn't come home the following day, that feeling blossomed, sprouted wings, and

flew into my heart, where it started breaking away at the fragile casing until it would shatter spectacularly. There was no funeral. The police seemed disinterested in finding her, and my family said very little about it to me, just that she'd gone away and that I'd understand when I was older. I was a day away from turning 18 when my great Uncle Thaddeus told me I had to come to the family estate for my birthday that it was time. I remember being pissed because I had a date with my high school crush, but that was of little

interest to him and saying no wasn't a wise idea. So I gave in. We drove in relative silence for the majority of the journey. He kept his steely-eyed gaze on the road and furrowed his brow. The man was in his 70s, but still commanded a room with his gate. I tried to block out the feelings of teenage frustration and focus on the country road. We miss Christina, too, you know. He grumbled from behind a thick white mustache.

Your mother was a wonderful woman, beautiful soul, and a vision of the world like nothing I'd seen before. But with her and her Aunt Cecilia now gone, well, it's a good thing you're turning 18. He drummed his fingers against the wheel. I said nothing and instead chose to let my feelings swirl around inside of me. me as we pulled up to the Lee estate. A secluded manor house in the countryside. It sat here for nearly three centuries with upkeep repairs in various areas, but largely remained

the same grandiose spectacle of architecture it had been when first constructed. All members of the Lee family were born here, myself included. It was a rite of passage in a way. As we headed inside, the remnants of the party from Friday night still scattered around, A very somber atmosphere greeted me in the parlor room. Spread out amongst beanbag chairs, leather couches, armchairs, and Ottomans were the entire adult Lee clan members. Among them were my great Aunt Agnes, Uncle George, Aunt Elisa, Cousins Mick, and Ralph,

and sat in a large chair at the back was my grandpa, Sir Walter Quincy Carter Lee, a distinguished man with a usually jovial spirit, but now sat. morose and deflated, as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes never left mine as I awkwardly shuffled into the room. In fact, none of theirs did. Thirty pairs of eyes fixated on me as I sat opposite Walter and gave him a half-hearted smile. Theodore, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, and since you're a man now, I will not sugarcoat it.

Walter's voice broke the silence, and much like his face. expressions, it was dripping in weariness. The Lee family has been blessed with fortune, fame, and success in all things. We have had this for a very, very long time, but it comes at a cost. We have a contract of sorts that must be fulfilled on August 30th, every year without fail. He slid across an old, dried up piece of parchment with a slew of signatures and requirements. I scanned it and felt all the moisture leave my mouth. On this day in 1756, I, Theodore James Wellerjim Lee, patriarch of the Lee family,

do hereby commit direfully bodies and eternal souls to undertake this practice until we are either no more or our obligations deemed fulfilled. Starting in the waning days of August, we shall congregate on these grounds and be merry, cavort, and enjoy our lives as one is wont on to do. But as the clock strikes midnight and hails on the 30th day of the month, we shall undertake the waiting ritual and obey these basic tenements as set out at agreed upon by both parties. Number one, all members of the Lee family over the age of 18 must be present. Number two, all members of the Lee family must keep at least one other member in sight at all times. Number three, if there is a designated focus of the Lee family, they are to be stared

at constantly. Number four, should any members of the Lee family hear voices that distract them, they are to ignore them. Number five, lights must be available at all times, including backup matches, should there be an issue. And number six, line of sight must not be broken until the clock once again chimes 12 times to usher in August 31st. I do sign my name in blood to signify the commitment to this pact and the promise that the current future generations of the Lee family shall continue this practice, lest we invoke the consequences of non-completion. Signed, Theodore James Wellington Lee, witness Elnora Micah Lee, spouse. In place of the alternate signature was a bizarre series of character

that I had never seen before. I'd half expected the devil himself to have put his name down, but this just made me feel uncomfortable. What the hell is this? An elaborate birthday prank? I tried to force a laugh, but my body wouldn't cooperate. Grandpa Walters shook his head. No, lad. It's a commitment to the agreement.

Your mother was our original focus person, and now that you're of age, it's you. All you must do is sit in the chair and wait it out for 24. We will all be here with you. When the time is up, you can go. Your successes will come to you naturally and life will be plentiful. He gestured to the room around him. All of us have had great lives and our children. Your cousins will continue this trend, provided we do our part here and now.

What choice did I have? I agreed and Grandpa presented me with a different document that every member of The family had signed in blood on their eighteenth birthday. I did the same and was free to talk to everyone before the clock chimed midnight. Once it had, we all took our seats and the ritual began. I won't lie. It was initially still feeling like a prank that I was waiting on for the rug to be pulled out from under me, but as the first hour passed and the conversation grew sparse, I realized

how seriously everyone was taking this. Imagine being sat in a chair at the back of a grand parlor, books strewn across you from side to side, the well-lit room full of your family members, some you get on well with, others you avoid like the plague, and every single one of them is staring at you incessantly for 24 hours. About halfway through, still during the day, things would become less tense. Something about the daylight brought with it a comfort of visibility that could not be taken away, and conversations grew lively again.

By the time we reached 10.30 p.m., however, tensions were high. Darkness had enveloped the room, and one of my aunts explained that this is when things can go wrong, but stopped herself from continuing any further, hands shaking. I would hear faint whispers from outside in the hall that I had brushed off as the maid or a younger family member conversing, but could never totally remove from my mind. The lights would flicker, and everyone seemed to be on edge. But we made it to midnight, and on that final chime, the group erupted into cheers and congratulations to one another, myself included.

It felt like we'd just come up for air for the first time in decades. Life tasted fresh, and all we wanted to do was experience it. A small but short party was had as thanks, but we were all admittedly so tired that it didn't get too far. I would bow out before 3 a.m. and sleep through the rest of the 31st, going about my life as normal as possible from that day on. Grandpa was right. My life found great success with each passing year. I would be accepted to the art school I had as my top pick. I became a recognized artist and people all over the world knew of my work. A family of my own had eluded me, but I was a happy 29-year-old for all things considered, even if my partner resented my birthday

ritual. I hadn't explained it to her yet, and didn't have plans to do so for as long as possible. Outsiders never fully understood, and it wasn't permitted to have anyone not married involved. I liked Harriet a lot, but I was not ready to go down that route any time soon. She gave me a defeated goodbye as I left. This was the second birthday of mine she'd gotten to be a part of, and it was clearly bothering her that she couldn't indulge me in the way she wanted.

I told her we'd have all the time afterwards, but this did little to assuage her frustrations. You always keep secrets, Theo. I don't like it. She huffed, understandably frustrated at not being let in. How can we progress with our relationship if you keep me at arm's length? You've not even told me about your mother, and it's been nearly two years. I wish I knew myself, but that's just how it is," I shrugged. This was something that hurt, but I'd had many years to process.

And if we ever get married, you'll learn all about what goes on, okay? The simple prospect of even mentioning marriage put a smile on her face, and she seemed to forget all about her frustrations. She kissed me and sent me off without a second thought. The Leastate, by this point, was largely a mix of old and new members. Cousins Mitchell, Eric, Sadie, Pippa, and Kiefer had all long since turned 18 and were now successful 20-somethings. My aunts and uncles from years prior still able to come along.

Surprisingly, my grandpa was still the active patriarch. Even at 87, he had plenty of vigor and was relieved to see me pull up, ready to undertake the festivities and party. Now that I'd been doing this for 12 years, it had become a macabre routine that we loved and hated in equal measure. We ate, drank, talked about life and love. We existed and made sure to cherish those moments. Then, as the clock struck midnight, we took our places and that familiar chill washed over all of us. I don't know what was different, thinking about it now, something had to have been off. But when you're in a routine for so long, even an odd one like ours can begin to feel mundane.

We locked all the doors, entered the parlor, took our seats, and so it began. The first thirty minutes was of no real issue, some idle chatter here and there, but largely everyone was stealing themselves for the long day ahead. Cousin Mick was using a stress ball, whilst Cousin Ralph had a single earphone in with an audio book on his phone, his smart decision. At 12.35 a.m. there was a smash against the window. It sounded as if a bird had flown headfirst into the glass, intent on crushing itself. We jumped, but years of experience didn't have us all staring at the window. Instead, Pippa went over within our line of sight

and opened the curtains. A cracked window, but no bird. In the distance, we could see something moving, But it wasn't possible to figure out without closer inspection, and that wasn't possible. The family estate is a private land that borders on a large wooded area. We don't govern that part of the land and instead have large fences around the property that shows where our ownership begins. So why would anyone be willingly out there? Shit's weird, right? I chuckled, looking at my grandpa and expecting a nervous laugh back.

Instead, he shook in his chair and kept his gaze on me, sweat pouring down his nose and his skin growing sallow. It's just like last time with Christina. He breathed. We tried to cheat the system and we're still paying for it. Cheat the system? What the hell was he talking about? I scanned the room and the older members of the family looked increasingly agitated and anxious.

My Aunt Gertrude bordering on hysterical as she whimpered something to my uncle Bill. still, pointing a shaking finger at me. He would calm her down, and we'd spend the next two hours in almost total silence. But when the lights began to flicker and the anxiety rose again, I felt myself needing to ask, What's going on, Grandpa? I breathed, the tension spreading through the group like a disease. He shifted uncomfortably, and my concern only grew.

If you don't tell me right now, I'll walk out of this building and that'll be the end of the tradition. He immediately leapt out of his seat, eyes wide and wild. No, absolutely not. We do not need any more suffering and death in this family. The room grew cold and my blood along with it. Death, mom, died? The sheer pain of those words leaving my body like the very air was being pulled from my lungs by force. He sat back into his chair, defeated. This deal we made. It granted us every thing we could want. But there is no deal in this world without a price.

That price was for one of us to fail the contract's requirements each year. There was a tension in the air permeating through every member of the family as he spoke. The contract never originally stipulated that we must all gather together. In fact, it actively persuaded us to elect someone to miss the proceedings, to perhaps never inform them of the deal. The trick set out was to do it on a day that would keep at least one of us apart from the rest. We would have obstacles from life or employment that would ensure at least one of us would be unable to make it each year. Thus fulfilling their end of the bargain.

But who came up with the idea? But your grandmother, my wife, was in heavy labor when your mother was due and the family wanted to be there. It just seemed like we'd been thrown a line. No more death. So, we decided to make it a mandatory right of passage for the family. By some stroke of luck, your mother was born just after the stroke of midnight on the 30th, and you in the early evening on the 30th some 25 years later. For over half a century, we were able to maintain peace and tranquility.

His lip quivered and the lights flickered again. But all debts must be repaid. In a brief moment, for a fraction of a second, I saw something stand in the middle of our parlor. It towered over all of us, hunched over with its bulbous head against the ceiling. Red eyes fixated on me. If there was a mouth, I couldn't see it. It held up a twisted digit to its face as if to shush me before the lights flickered back

on. If Grandpa or anyone else saw it, they didn't acknowledge it. I tried my best to hold my nerve and ask a question to keep my focus. What are they? I managed to muster, hoping there'd be some kind of explanation for what I saw. Maybe an old legend I could connect to them to make sense of all of this. But Grandpa just looked at me, a single tear running down his face as the proud patriarch of our family showed true fear for the first time in my life.

I don't know. Nobody does. They appeared to our ancestor your namesake so long ago. He said at the time they were a spectre from beneath the earth. His wife insisted they came from the stars. His son was adamant. They were an old Celtic legend forgotten to time. We do know one thing, Theo.

When we break eye contact, when we don't fulfill our part of the bargain. I heard more whispering outside, the sound of walls being knocked upon and something unseen and gargantuan thundering around the home. It was trying to get our attention. Is that what happened to Mom? Did someone in this room fail to fulfill their part of the bargain? I felt hot rage and grief pushed their way up, compounded by that feeling of being upset on my birthday of all days.

I looked around and my eyes settled on Aunt Gertrude, the most nervous of the bunch. She was my last aunt and Christina's eldest sister. What did you do, Auntie? She pursed her lips, and I could see the veins in her temple throbbing, trying desperately to hold her composure, but the noises were unrelenting, and nobody in the room was attempting to calm her, as if they knew this needed to happen. I always resented your mother, Theodore. She was pretty, confident, young, and full of energy.

Always got the recognition from father, the love she wanted, and the life she sought. I was never satisfied with what I had. And I thought if she was gone, maybe that good fortune would shine on me. So I took some sleeping pills and passed out. The staring felt malicious, angry, full of spite, and a hint of regret. I don't have any ill will towards you, Theodore. But if it meant I could live the life I have now, I'd do it again. Bitch!

Pippa and Sadie piped up from the sides. Both of them loved their Aunt Christina. Huh, all you knew, huh? Never told him? Were you even planning to? Kiefer spat on the floor and disgust. This family should fucking burn. I felt my head swell, a cocktail of emotions coupled with the unseen attempts to distract us. Grandpa took my shoulders in both hands and looked at me, the saddest smile I'd ever seen on a person's face. I let the smartest and most talented of my girls go because of tradition.

Rest assured, I won't do it to you. We've seen enough death and enough loss in this family. Before your mother's birth, we would see two dozen of our family taken as many years. She stabilized us. You continued that. But keeping this from you, especially at your age. He let go, backing up. the parlor door.

So if you want to leave, to confront whatever takes us, to get your revenge on us. The family murmured, but didn't protest. Gertrude sobbed silently. How do I know it won't take me? My leg shook as I stood up. It was barely 3 a.m. by this point. We had so long to go. You don't.

But that is part of you making the choice instead of us. If you are the one to leave, it'll punish us instead." I stood there for a few minutes, deciding over my choices, how to respond to a family steeped in secrecy that would willingly send my mother and I to slaughter in order to keep proliferating. It turned out I wouldn't need to wait very long for a decision. The front door hadn't been properly locked, and Harriet came inside, blasting music and armed with a mobile strobe lighting machine.

I'd told her that while we had a ritual, I'd focused instead on the partying aspect. She'd followed me here. The second she entered the house, pumping music, and the lights shining through the room, they hit several of my family members in the face, breaking eye contact. And just like that, the pact was broken. I don't know if I can fully articulate what happened, but I felt a deep rumble beneath my feet. The air grew thick and it felt as if time had slowed down. Something was stirring and as I looked around at the family, I could see on their faces

they knew it was coming for them. I looked at Grandpa, still smiling and nodding as the lights went out. I made a direct bee-line out of the room with Harriet in hand, slamming the parlor door behind me and pushing my body weight against it. What the fuck? She screamed, confused and distressed. You just killed us! killed us, all because you couldn't wait. You...

You... I tried to find the words, to find the rage, but I was beyond that. I held her close, and we kept our heads down, hoping to make it through whatever hell was behind just a few inches of wood. I saw nothing, but I heard everything. A cacophony of shrill voices screaming, laughing, singing, and groaning in one torrent of suffering. Things were thrown around the room, possibly... furniture, possibly a body.

I sat against that door until daybreak this morning, when cousin Pippa gently knocked against the door and told us to come in that it didn't matter this year anymore. Opening the door, I saw carnage. The room was singed black from wall to wall. Most of the family were laying face down or cowering in the corner, completely unresponsive. As I scanned the room, wordless, full of anxiety. and trepidation, I already knew who would be missing. Grandpa, no trace of him existed, as if he'd been wiped from existence.

But to my surprise, Gertrude had been taken too, a smear of blood next to her husband that ran across the length of the wall and ended in the corner. Her husband simply rocked back and forth, holding her green shawl. My attention was then drawn into the center of the room, to something I took one. with me to the car, something I have in front of me. Now that the full 24 hours have passed, and I have 364 days to decide on what to do next. The family went home, all of us fully understanding what had transpired. Harriet tried in vain to apologize to them, but each one treated her as if she was a ghost.

After all, she wasn't part of the family. She wasn't part of the ritual, a part of the game. For all that I'd learned, I still didn't know what they were or where mom and grandpa had gone. I dropped Harriet off at home and made her swear to never talk about it. She was devastated but understood. When she asked me what I intended to do, I simply shook my head. The contract had been amended, you see. Not that there's anything anyone here can do about it aside from listening.

To know these things happen. The waiting ritual had been extended to 48 hours. All must attend. Graver consequences for those who don't. A simple note written in Obsidian Inc. had been pinned to the top. Gertrude's signature crossed out in Harriet's name written in her place. A trade. A new debt.

Two more next year.