The Darker Side of Medicine is a podcast where I narrate some of my most disturbing nightmares like a short story.
S1E1: TRIFECTA
Welcome to The Darker Side of Medicine: The Podcast of Nightmares. These are not just dreams, these tales crawl up from a much deeper place, rooted in sleep disturbances, pain, medication, and illness. So, dim the lights, settle in, and wander with me into the unnerving landscape of my disturbed, subconscious mind. Because sometimes the scariest stories aren't fiction, they're symptoms.
Tonight's episode: Trifecta
I am lying in my bed facing my bedroom door. Down the hallway to the left is another bedroom, where I know Shane is sleeping. Straight ahead is a set of three stairs that opens up to a bonus space above the garage, and to the left of that space is a staircase leading down to the main living area and kitchen.
I've woken up in the middle of the night and the air feels threatening. I need to go to the washroom, but my body won't allow me to get up. Something is off.
I hear a thud coming from downstairs.
Someone's in the house.
As I get up to shut my door, I see him. He's a large man, with his face covered and dressed all in black. He points a gun at me; a large gun with a long barrel and a scope. I scream. Shane comes running out from his bedroom on the left and the intruder turns the gun on him. He falls, shot. My eyes open.
I jolt awake, panicked, in my bed, with tears in my eyes.
The following night, I decide to sleep on the couch in the bonus space, right in the line of sight of the staircase.
My eyes open in the middle of the night. The tv is off but there is light coming through the window from the street lamp.
I immediately feel uneasy.
I hear what sounds like footsteps coming up the staircase.
Before I can move, I see the barrel of that same gun rounding the corner of the stairs. He sees me and aims the gun in my direction.
Without registering the scream that has escaped my mouth, I hear Shane rushing out his bedroom door. I yell: "No no no no no no no no" because I know what's about to happen. The gunman turns and shoots Shane, halting his run with the force of a brick wall.
My eyes open.
I am breathless, crying.
The following night, I was terrified of sleeping.
Rather than trying to sleep upstairs, either on my bed or on the couch, I've opted to sleep on one of the chairs downstairs in the living room. The back of the chair is against the back wall of the house. To my right is the kitchen and a screen door out to the back deck. In front of me is a couch facing me, a pony wall opening to the dining room and I have an unobstructed view of the entryway and the front door.
My eyes open to the sound of a hinge opening.
I know what's coming. I do not scream.
I stare down the barrel of the intruder's gun, determined to find my way out of this.
But Shane heard the door.
He is almost at the staircase as I try to keep the gunman's focus on me, but it's no use. Shane is on the stairs when he is shot. The blood sprays and he falls awkwardly. I can't contain my sobs.
The intruder makes eye contact with me, then calmly walks out of our home.
My eyes open.
When I wake up, I am drenched in sweat.
Over the next eight months, one of these three versions of this nightmare happens every single time I allow myself to fall asleep.
No matter what I try, where I sleep, or how I manage to manipulate this nightmare, Shane always ends up murdered.
Thank you for listening to The Darker Side of Medicine. I'm your host: Scary Kari.
Sweet Dreams