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 The Hidden: Urban Decay is available as apodcast from the Hidden’s minisite athttp://www.mindofbryan.com/thehidden, or iniTunes. You can read more of Bryan LeePeterson athttp://www.mindofbryan.comAll text is © Bryan Lee Peterson 2009
 The Hidden: Urban Decay
Chapter 1
It was dark as night in Malcolm's bedroom when a half-heard sound startledhim from sleep. The sound hung in Malcolm's head, existing partly in thedream and partly in the real world without committing to either. He looked atthe window. Not a hint of morning light peeked from around the edges of theshade. It was too early to get up, way too early, which could only mean thathe was being visited. The blue digits of his alarm clock strobed brightly,pulsated as his eyes tried to adjust. Transitions from dream to waking were agray area of experience, leaving a confusion of what was true and whatwasn't. He tried to remember what had roused him from sleep and hisnightmares, but that took more energy than he had. The thought faded asfast as his memory of his dreams.The uncertainty of perception confused Malcolm, the sensation of beinghopelessly surrounded by darkness and of being in a room which pervadedwith the sudden and jarring silence that comes only to someone who haswoken from a nightmare just before death, but is not yet ready to open hiseyes and find out if he really was just dreaming. In his dream, whatever itwas he had been fighting was pouncing on him, but he usually slept throughthe scene of his own death.His first coherent thought of the day was tinged with paranoia. Whatcaused him to wake? There was a sound, it came back to him. Or maybe he’dfelt the telepathic perception of movement in the room, but now that he was
 
more awake, he was sure it was definitely something external to the dreamitself. His eyes were still heavy, groggy, desiring to remain closed, forcinghim back under to delta wave, rapid eye movement and more nightmares.The next time he woke up, the covers had tangled around him. He couldfeel the sheet wrapped around his leg, and snaking up his chest into hisclenched hand. He was acting out his dreams again, another fitful surrenderto the subconscious. He thought it was just moments since he'd last foundwakefulness, but couldn’t be sure. He couldn't move.He wondered if he was waking in a dream within a dream, and scanned theroom for clues. He couldn’t tell. Had he left his shirt draped like that over hisdresser, or was that a shrouded figure?He forced his eyes open. This time the sun must have been just risingabove the horizon, a small amount of blue light slipped in around the shade.Even this dim light was painful, unexpected, lambent.He took in what information he could without moving. There was no needto alert anything that shouldn’t be in the room if he could avoid it. It wasunnatural for him to wake up like this, he knew something wasn't right. Hecouldn't move no matter how hard he tried. He pushed hard, his heartstarted beating faster under the strain of his exertions, and hearing the rapiddull thud in his head, he got nervous, which made it beat even faster.Then a half-heard sound came from across the room, like the sound of hiscat, its claws looking for a blood fix. It couldn’t have been the cat. The catnever left the front room, and had died years ago. Malcolm blinked andgrunted. Had he woken up before today? Or were those in dreams?The sound came again, just at the edge of perception. It had woken himbefore, too. It was real. His confusion told him to be wary, but somethingkept him from knowing quite why.Early morning noises always made him suspicious. Human intruders don’tcome into apartments like Malcolm’s. It had to be something far worse. Theurge to sleep was much greater than if he'd woken up early and was stilldrowsy, it was unnatural, and impossible to resist. It silently eased any fearhe had, comforted him, lulled him into forgetting why he was suddenlyawake. His joints were stiff, his motor responses resisted his desire to turn, tofind a position that wouldn't knot his muscles by the time the alarm goes off,every thought fell to sleep. The sensation worked against him, he tried to push his arm off his chestbut it exhausted every effort of his whole body, and he couldn’t even be sureif it had moved at all. The notion that this was just a hypnagogic delusionoccurred to him, but he dismissed the thought even before it completeditself.He just wanted to sleep, an artificial instinct told him all was safe. Just goto sleep. Just go to sleep. Over and over, they lulled him, gained strength of effect in the incantation. Just go back to sleep.He knew then that something was wrong, he fought to stay awake,despite the overwhelming desire to return to the false safety of night, trying
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