This article originally ran under a different banner/website in August of 2020 and is now being here re-uploaded for purposes of convenience and consolidation. Please enjoy.
I jolted forward. Drenched in sweat and breathing erratically. I looked at the alarm clock at the side of my bed. The red lines seemed almost to be a deeper color contrasted against my darkened room. It reads 3:42 AM. My head collapsed against my damp pillow. This was the third night in a row of interrupted sleep. A third night of waking in a cold sweat. Another night leading to another morning of being so drained of energy where coffee can’t remedy my exhaustion. Another night of being plagued by the same nightmare. Why this memory, I thought? Out of all my childhood memories, why was this stuck in my head like a bad yet catchy song? It always begins the same too. It always begins … at Story Land.
As a child, my parents would always take a week off from work, load me and my three siblings in the car, and drive up to the White Mountains in New Hampshire. We would usually rent a small little cabin from a campground for a week. I remember being able to pick out and eat sugary cereal for that week; a practice that was uncommon for my strict parents. The smell of chlorine coming from the campground pool. Wasting all the quarters that I could muster on a Pac-Man arcade cabinet located in this rusted garage on the campground. Despite trying every year, I was never able to get a high enough score to get my initials on the high score list. Without fail, my parents have the whole week scheduled in order to keep us busy. Some days, we would go on small hikes; other days, we’d go to the water park. However, every year without fail, our parents would take us to Story Land.
Story Land is this tiny amusement park located an hour away from the campground. While its size paled in comparison to parks like Disney or Six Flags, my parents enjoyed taking us there as most of the rides were aimed at a younger audience. The rollercoaster that scared me as a kid, Polar Coaster, would be ridiculed alongside rides like Space Mountain or the Superman roller coaster. However, my parents preferred the smaller park, as the lines were shorter and there were plenty of opportunities for photos. My mom always loved taking the opportunity to capture a childhood memory. Whether it was all of us sitting on top of Humpty Dumpty’s wall or spinning inside of Alice’s teacups, my mom was always ready to take a photo of us alongside iconic storybook characters.
Looking back at these moments, an uneasy feeling about these storybook characters always stuck with me. The way some of them stared at us. I could never shake the feeling that these plastic characters were somehow watching us. Just waiting for a moment that our parents weren’t looking before they dragged us off into the deep woods behind the park. As the oldest of my siblings, I frequently tried to frame my discomfort as just wanting to get back to the rides. I couldn’t let my siblings know that going into the shoe where the Grandmother lived made my skin crawl. I would never hear the end of it. However, anytime we jump into an oversize pie to take a picture, I was worried we would disappear right before my eyes.
While my fears seemed overdramatic, my fears were partly vindicated that one summer in particular. I can picture it so clearly, mainly due to it being the source of my nightmare plaguing me. My family had made its way to the back of the park. There was a submarine play area consisting of coral reefs that spouted water, buttons, and knobs to push with the submarine, and a giant octopus perched on top of the submarines. I still see the large comical eyes of that octopus. It always felt like his gaze would follow me around the play area. It felt like at any moment, he would snap to life and start throwing kids into the dark void that was his mouth. It never happened but that sensation would hover around the area like a thick fog.
The events that followed were clear as the day they happened. My younger sister, Meghan, was frustratingly kicking rocks around the play area. She had enough of the submarine area. Being the second eldest, she had been to Story Land many times and was never impressed with this area. In a huff, she walked over to me.
“I am bored. I am going to the sandcastle maze,” she said pointing up the small hill to what seemed to be at the time, a towering castle.
“You can’t do that,” I nervously replied, “We are playing in the submarine.”
Traditionally, we stayed together as a family while at the park. Since there were four of us, it would have been easy for our parents to lose track of us if we all ran in different directions. However, Meghan wasn’t a fan of rules and frequently marched to the beat of her own drum.
“Suit yourself, I am going,” she said, skipping off to the castle.
At that moment, fear paralyzed me. I had no idea what could await her within those high castle walls, and she never let me hear the end of it if she knew I was worried. My concerns wouldn’t slow her down. She would laugh as she skipped toward the castle.
Moments later, my parents began worryingly shouting at each other. Both of them couldn’t see Meghan. However, rather than worry about a giant green octopus eating her, they worried a stranger had grabbed her while they weren’t looking. Even deep in panic, my parents swiftly devised a game plan. My mom ran to the front of the park, hoping they could close off the exits and announce on the loudspeakers they were looking for Meghan. My dad would stay with me and my two younger brothers at the submarine so the rest of us didn’t get separated.
As my mom ran off, I nervously tugged my dad’s shirt.
“What is it Craig?” he asked, trying not to show his panicked look.
“I saw … Meghan go to … the sandcastle maze,” I mumbled.
“Craig,” he said calmly, “I need you to go to the sandcastle maze and bring your sister straight back here. I am going to wait here with Kyle and Alec for mom. Can you do this for me?”
“I … I … I,” I stumbled. I wasn’t sure how to tell my dad I was nervous about the horrors that lurked in the maze. My dad saw my hesitation, got down on one knee so he could be at eye level with me.
“Craig,” he said, “I know this all seems scary, but I need you to be brave for me. Do you think you can be a brave older brother and go find your sister?”
I slowly nodded my head.
“Ok, good,” he said reassuringly, “Go to the sandcastle maze and come straight back with Meghan. Don’t go anywhere else.”
I marched up the hill trying my best to mask the fear. I walked to the entrance as kids were funneling in and out of the entrance and exits. I gazed upon the massive tan walls that stood between me and my responsibilities as an older brother. I took one last deep breath and pushed my way through the entrance. Unsure the path forward, I began taking turns that felt natural to me. At the moment, it felt like I was able to make my way to the back of the castle, but I couldn’t be sure. Then I immediately hit a dead end. I turned around expecting some ghoulish creature to have cornered me, but nobody was there. No monster, but also no other children. Confused, I stood there for a second, until the floor beneath me gave way. I began falling. The bright blue summer sky that served as a background was soon being swallowed whole by the darkness until pitch black was all I could see. It felt like I was going to fall forever until I landed on the ground with a hard thud.
I awoke to a faint red shimmer pulsing to my right. I began to scan the area trying to figure out where I was, but all I could see was that pulsating ruby glow. I slowly shuffled towards it hoping it was a light from one of the rides that could help me escape. However, it appears to be a red orb. Nothing like anything any of the rides would have. I reached out my fingers towards the orb and began to hear chanting.
“ Y’ai ‘ng’ngah, Yog-Sothoth h’ee – l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah.”
While confused by the word being chanted in my ear, I couldn’t stop reaching for the orb. The pulsing lights and cryptic chanting got louder and faster as my fingers got closed in on the orb. As one of my fingers began to make contact, the light immediately changed from a bright red to a blinding hot white forcing me to close my eyes. The chanting became so loud that I had to pull my hands back and cover my ears. I screamed hoping that would stop the light and the chanting. Slowly it all dissipated until the chanting sounded like one person.
I opened my eyes to see a Story Land employee asking me if I was ok. I look around to see that I am in the same dead-end of the maze where I fell. Only the hole that I fell in was no longer there. I nodded at the employee and they helped me to my feet and escorted me out of the sandcastle maze.
Upon reaching the exit, I could see my family, my dad standing around my brothers and sister. Meghan continuously rolling her eyes and asking what all the fuss was about. She just wanted to go to the sandcastle maze. My mom runs up to me and smothers me in her arms. She mentions how worried she was since I had been missing for an hour. I was immediately confused by her statement as my encounter with the orb only seemed to last a couple of minutes. Even to this day, my family is still unsure how these events actually played out. My younger brothers don’t really remember the story. My sister will just say she didn’t see the big deal with going to the sandcastle alone. My mom will just smile and say she is just glad that we were all ok.
As the nightmare continues, the world seems to go quiet around me. The chanting starts up again.
“Y’ai ‘ng’ngah, Yog-Sothoth h’ee – l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah. Y’ai ‘ng’ngah, Yog-Sothoth h’ee – l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah. Y’ai ‘ng’ngah, Yog-Sothoth h’ee – l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah.”
It gets louder and louder. Nobody else seems to notice the chanting. They are all just gathered around smiling. Louder and faster the chanting becomes. My mom’s arms continue to constrain me. Just when it feels like my ears are going to give, I awake twenty years later in my own apartment in the city. For three nights, this nightmare has plagued my slumber. Three nights, I awake heart pounding like a drum and beads of sweat racing down my face. Three nights, I fail to get a good night’s rest before my six AM alarm signals me to start my day.
The next day, there is a knock at my door. I open the door to see nobody there, but a package without any labeling on it. I don’t recall ordering anything online. I looked both ways down the hall to see if I could spot who left it, but the hallway was surprisingly barren. I take the package inside and use a knife to open the box. The second I open the lids and see what was inside I am frozen with fear. The box immediately slips out of my hands and falls to the floor. The red pulsating orb, the same one from my childhood memories and the one plaguing my dreams, rolls out of the box and onto my kitchen floor.
“Y’ai ‘ng’ngah, Yog-Sothoth h’ee – l’geb f’ai throdog uaaah!”