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politemagic · 1 hour ago

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The Haunting of Sleep Manor: Chapter V

Sleep visits another one of the Vessels in their dreams, giving them another harrowing glimpse into their purpose at Langley Manor. But they do manage to make a new friend.

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2.4k words | ao3

a/n: I am back in the fucking saddle baby, my creative energy has returned to me and it's time to channel that into some spooky boys. I know I am sporadic at best with my updates, so I cannot thank you enough for continuing to support this story, and I hope that this chapter lives up to expectations. and to the lovely anon who sent me a message to ask about this update, thank you for inspiring me to open my document again, I hope that you enjoy this one too <3

The manor was livelier than it had been in centuries. Music flooded through the hallways, worming its way into every crevice of the building. III can’t remember the last time there were so many people at their house, but tonight the air was almost suffocating with the amount of people packed into each room. Everyone was jovial, dancing without a care, laughing with strangers that may as well have been old friends. For a brief moment, III felt like his old self again, felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders and his heart lighten in his chest. For a moment he was tempted to follow the scent of smoke leading out to the backyard, but that temptation was lost when he heard the sound of a piano and Vessel’s voice wafted from the living room. The sound of his voice had III’s feet moving without a thought; it had been so long since he’d heard him sing at a party like this.

It was as if everyone was drawn to Vessel’s voice the same way he was, the crowd blocked his every step, sweaty bodies moving aimlessly, oblivious to him trying to squeeze through. He managed to get close to the door, but Vessel’s entranced audience inside the living room was impenetrable. III pushed up onto his tiptoes, trying to scan the crowd for his friend. Even with his height playing to his advantage, he could barely see into the room, the hazy air in the living room obscuring most of his view. Vessel’s voice faded as the song came to a close and the room erupted in cheers, III included.

“He is incredible, isn’t he?” A voice asked from behind him. III turned to find a large, imposing man standing behind him dressed in a black suit so dark it was difficult to make out the details, even the buttons on his jacket evaded notice.

“Yeah, he really is,” III agreed, eyeing the stranger curiously. Something in the back of his mind tingled in recognition, something he couldn’t quite place, but it was comforting. Perhaps this stranger was not as imposing as he appeared.

“It was such a blessing to find him when I did! To think that talent would have gone unnoticed any longer… I can’t bear to think of it,” The man’s dark eyes bore into III’s as he extended his hand. “And none of this would have been possible without you, my boy.”

III couldn’t help the way his lips tugged upwards as he grasped the man’s hand in a firm handshake. But that smile quickly disappeared as the touch instantly shot a frigid cold through his veins, chilling him to the bone. The man didn’t release his grip, even as III felt his teeth begin to chatter.

“You will help him get here, won’t you?” He asked, his tone laced with the gentle authority of a father, a stark contrast to his eyes, which looked as if they had been carved from the darkest rocks in the deepest pits of Hell. Looking into his eyes, III could hear a faint humming in the back of his brain, the same part of his brain that tingled in recognition of the man before him. As the man continued to stare into his eyes, the humming in his brain grew louder until he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts.

“Yes, of course,” III felt himself say.

“Good.” The man’s hand released its hold. “Your time will come soon.”

Steam was escaping through the crack beneath the bathroom door, drawing IV’s attention as he walked down the hallway to his room. III had gone into the shower over half an hour ago. IV furrowed his brow, changing course from his bedroom to press his ear to the door– III was never one for long, luxurious showers. In fact, he held the record on tour for shortest shower time. After a moment of hearing nothing but the sound of running water, IV rapped his knuckles against the wood.

“III?” He called out and almost instantly he heard the water turn off. IV waited as he heard the shower curtain opening and III rustling with his clothes. When III swung the door open, the remaining steam practically blasted IV in the face.

“What’s up?” III said, slightly confused.

“Hey, you okay?” IV asked, looking III up and down. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary aside from the length of his shower. III was wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, the shoulders already damp thanks to the water dripping from his hair, and a pair of joggers with a towel draped over his arm.

“Yeah, for some reason the shower was just hitting today. Maybe it’s the stress of the move, but it just felt nice,” III said nonchalantly, his eyes not-so-subtly watching IV’s internal investigation, hoping his answer was sufficient enough for him not to worry.

“Maybe we’re better off when you hate showering, you hot water hog,” IV teased, but his concern was still evident in his eyes.

“I’m not sure what a water hog is, but I’m delighted you think I’m hot,” III joked in reply, brushing past IV into the hallway. “Shower’s all yours if you need it.”

III began walking down the hall to his room, thinking he’d eased IV’s suspicions but a gasp from behind him told him differently. When he brushed against IV the edge of the towel over his arm had shifted, revealing to IV the reddened skin of his hand and forearm. Before III could even turn around, IV was on him, pulling the towel from his grasp.

“III… What…” IV said softly, his hands gently holding III’s elbow to investigate the raw skin. He looked up at him, more worried than III had ever seen him. III tried to pull his arm away but IV refused, tightening his grip enough to keep him still. “What happened?”

It broke III’s heart a little to see IV so worried, so worried about him. He sighed, hanging his head in a combination of shame and defeat and jerked his head towards his open bedroom door. “We’ll sit.”

The two of them sat across from each other on III’s bed, IV grabbed a tube of Aquaphor from the box by III’s nightstand and gently applied the salve to the raw, irritated skin as III recounted the dream he’d had the night before.

“The man, I… I don’t know who it was. I swear I’ve never seen him before, but it was like something in my brain recognized him. And when he shook my hand, I was so cold, it was the kind that made me feel like I’d never feel warm again. It was lonely. It was terrifying.”

“So the shower…”

“When I woke up, my entire hand was black where he’d touched me. After what Vessel and II have seen and what the ghosts said about ‘consuming us’, I don’t want any business with this shit. I kept scrubbing and scrubbing but it just wouldn’t come off.”

“Well, it’s definitely not black anymore,” IV replied, replacing the cap on the tube of Aquaphor. “But it doesn’t look like a natural shade of red either.”

“I know that, but I don’t know what that means. I swear it was still black when I hid it under the towel,” III said, slightly agitated.

“I think you need to tell Vessel.”

“What? And give him something else to worry about? No.” III shook his head firmly.

“Vessel knows Sleep better than any of us. If these dreams are supposed to be a message, he’s the one who would know how to decode it,” IV pointed out.

“That ghost lady said that Sleep wants to consume him, and I think both my dream and II’s dream support that theory. You know Vessel, you know he would sacrifice himself if it meant keeping everyone else safe. We have to figure out how to do this ourselves, how to fight back ourselves.”

IV wanted to argue with III, but he knew he was right. If these dreams mean what they think they do, it’s in their hands to protect their friend.

“But how?”

Before III could reply, they heard the sound of a pen clattering onto the table in the corner of III’s room. Both of them turned their heads to the source of the sound, seeing a scrap of paper hovering in the air that read ASK US.

III pulled an old sketchbook from one of the unpacked boxes in his room and joined IV to sit on the floor, a blank page and pen in front of them.

“So you know something that can help us?” IV asked the empty air.

“Hold on, first I want to know which ghost we’re talking to. No offence, but if you’re the little girl Vessel was talking about I don’t think I’m necessarily interested in your advice,” III said, watching the pen for a response. If they hadn’t seen a corporeal ghost with their own eyes not too long ago, it would have felt absolutely ridiculous, but the pen lifted on its own and began to write a message on the paper.

MAX

“You’re the ghostly matters guy, aren’t you?” IV asked, recalling what Vessel had told them about the ghosts. He said there was one who claimed to know more about the ghost’s situation, a paranormal investigator type named Max. The pen began moving again.

YES

“So… That means you can help us, right?” III asked. He couldn’t help the excited flutter in his chest, he’d always thought it would be cool to talk to a ghost.

YES.

“Well alright, I’m all ears. Or, eyes, I guess, but either way. Tell me how we can help Vessel,” III said. The pen lifted and III and IV watched as it scribbled across the paper.

DO YOU HAVE A COMPUTER?

The two of them glanced at each other in confusion.

“Why would we need a computer?” IV asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t think the secret to freeing Vessel’s soul is going to involve any kind of computer skills,” III added.

LOT TO WRITE. I CAN TYPE FASTER.

“I’ll go see if I can snag Vessel’s old laptop from his room,” IV said before slipping out into the hallway. III sat on the floor alone, but not entirely alone, as Max sat across from him twiddling his thumbs. After a moment of silence, the pen lifted once again and began to write another message.

WHAT’S YOUR NAME?

“III,” he answered aloud.

YOUR REAL NAME?

“I don’t have a ‘real name’, not one that I can remember at least. I go by III though.” III’s answer made Max sad, a number was no kind of name for a man. Max glanced around the room and noticed the bass guitar sitting in the corner. The pen lifted once again.

MIND IF I CALL YOU SQUIRE?

III actually laughed at that, a genuine smile on his face at the thought of a ghost giving him a nickname. “Go for it,” III replied before Max started writing another question.

AND THE OTHER ONE?

“I thought I was supposed to be asking you questions,” III chuckled but the pen remained still. “You can call him Ivy, since you’re not into the whole numbers thing.”

MISS CHARLOTTE LIKES HIM.

“Of course she does! Everyone does!” III could feel the tension in his chest easing as he half-conversed with the ghost in his room. It had been a long time since he’d spoken to someone other than the vessels in any casual capacity, and even though Max was dead, it was nice to feel like he had a friend for once.

HE’S VERY POPULAR BECAUSE OF HOW GOOD HIS COOKING SMELLS

“Trust me, there’s a reason he’s the chef. I don’t think any of you want to smell what the rest of us would cook up in there.”

As if on cue, IV reentered the room with Vessel’s old laptop tucked under his arm.

“Speak of the devil,” III smiled.

“You’re talking about me?” IV asked, confused. III nodded, gesturing to the paper.

“Your cooking is a big hit with the ghosts evidently,” III explained and he had to resist the urge to point out the blush that appeared on IV’s cheeks.

“If you ever have requests, I like trying new things,” IV offered sheepishly as he set up the laptop in front of them. He opened up a word document and turned the laptop around to face where Max was sitting. “But for now, what do you know about how we can help Vessel?”

Max wasted no time and started typing immediately, then turned the screen to III and IV.

YOU NEED TO LOOK MORE INTO THE WITCHES FROM THE ATTIC. THEY WERE LOYAL TO SLEEP, AS YOU CALL HIM, JUST LIKE YOU ARE. WHEN THEY ARRIVED AND BEGAN DOING THEIR RITUALS, THINGS STARTED CHANGING IN THE MANOR. THAT WAS WHEN WE STARTED TO SEE, HEAR, AND FEEL THINGS DIFFERENTLY. WE BELIEVE THAT WHATEVER RITUAL THEY WERE TRYING TO DO WHEN THEY DISAPPEARED WAS LEFT UNFINISHED, WHETHER INTENTIONAL OR NOT, AND YOUR SLEEP IS SUSPENDED BETWEEN THE DIVINE AND THE MORTAL PLANE.

MY THEORY IS THAT HE HAS BROUGHT YOU HERE TO FINISH THE RITUAL THOSE WITCHES STARTED. BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS. THE WITCHES HAD A BOOK THAT THEY CARRIED WITH THEM EVERYWHERE, A JOURNAL WITH NOTES ABOUT THE RITUALS THEY WERE PERFORMING.

IF YOU CAN FIND THE BOOK, YOU MAY BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT WHAT STILL NEEDS TO BE DONE TO COMPLETE THE RITUAL AND SAVE YOUR FRIEND FROM FALLING INTO ANY OF SLEEP’S TRAPS. IT COULD ALSO HAVE INFORMATION WITH HOW TO UNDO THE RITUALS THEY DID COMPLETE. BUT I AM NOT SURE WHERE THE BOOK IS, IT MAY STILL BE IN THE ATTIC.

“The attic that you said would consume Vessel if he were ever to step foot into it?” IV asked.

YES.

“Will we be consumed if we step foot in it?” III followed up.

I DON’T THINK SO, IT’S YOUR FRIEND THAT HE WANTS. BUT I CAN’T BE SURE.

“Couldn’t you go look for it? Surely you can do some snooping…” IV said hesitantly.

SINCE THE WITCHES, NONE OF US HAVE BEEN ABLE TO ENTER. IT’S LIKE THERE’S A BARRIER OF SOME KIND.

“But you think this is our best chance to save Ves?”

YES.

III took a deep breath and turned to IV. “Looks like we have some investigating to do.”

#i'm not going to be insecure about my writing in the tags no i am NOT! i am simply happy to be creating again. but i do hope you like it <3 #the haunting of sleep manor #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #em's stcu

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