Sleeping isn’t safe.

There are accounts that appear across old forums, archived threads, and discarded sleep journals describing something that does not belong to waking life. The details vary slightly, but the pattern remains consistent. It is referred to in some places as Halla.

The earliest mention I found was from a school incident report that was never made public in full. A child died during the night at a residential camp. Officially, it was described as a sudden and unexplained medical event. Unofficially, students reported something else entirely. A presence in the sleeping quarters after lights out. A figure seen at the edge of awareness when the mind slips between sleep and waking. It was never clearly described in full. Most accounts fail at that point. People wake up before they can explain it properly.

What makes the phenomenon difficult to study is that it does not behave like a physical intruder. There are no signs of entry. No movement between spaces. No shared witnesses. Only isolated experiences occurring during sleep, always just before full consciousness returns.

Across multiple unrelated reports, the experience begins the same way: the subject wakes in a familiar environment—often their own room, tent, or temporary sleeping space. However, subtle inconsistencies appear immediately. The silence is too complete. The air feels “flattened,” as if sound has been removed rather than absent. And then there is the presence. Not always seen directly at first. Sometimes only perceived. A weight at the edge of vision. A shape that does not resolve correctly when focused on.

In all documented cases, subjects describe an inability to move or speak during the encounter. A sensation of separation between awareness and physical body. Some report the feeling that what remains in bed is only a placeholder. Something breathing, but not “them.”

The figure itself is described inconsistently: completely white-skinned, not pale; small or crouched in some accounts; tall and distorted in others; a face resembling a Dobby-like expression, but without nose or ears; only a few strands of brown hair on the head; eyes reported as reflective but depthless, as if they do not process light normally. It does not approach quickly. It does not need to.

There is always a moment, according to nearly every account where the subject becomes aware of intent. Not spoken. Not communicated. Understood. Something about removal. Not of life. But of something specific. Memory, identity, or physical fragments associated with sleep-state vulnerability. The most repeated detail is a sensation localized at the top of the head. Followed by total sensory shutdown.

Then the subject wakes. Fully. Ordinarily. Often interrupted by another person—friend, sibling, or unrelated individual who has approached the sleeping area for mundane reasons. In most cases, the interruption occurs seconds before escalation. What is unclear is whether the interruption prevents the event… or simply resets it.

There is no confirmed explanation. No agreed origin. Only fragmented speculation suggesting that the phenomenon may only become observable during deep sleep states in isolated environments. And even then, only briefly.

Some researchers who have attempted to classify it believe Halla is not a “being” in the traditional sense. Rather, it may represent a condition that manifests when human consciousness detaches fully from sensory input during sleep. A gap that is occasionally… occupied.

No further conclusions have been reached. Most reports end the same way: the subject insists they were awake, then insists they were somewhere else, then stops describing it altogether.

If there is a pattern, it is this: it does not remain long. And it is never seen fully. Only remembered. And sometimes not even that.

reddit.com
u/thesmartcoolguy — 1 day ago

Please review my creepypasta Grief

please enjoy...

GRIEF

Hello, I am Nicole Biers. I am 29 and live in Toronto, Canada. I run a podcast called Stereotypes Squad(would love a listen, btw). I edit and upload everything myself to Spotify, and I’m mildly successful. I make enough to get by and don’t need another job right now.

I am not, and have never been, suicidal. I could never really understand that kind of thought.

But four months ago, my on-air partner, Main Yestown, died by suicide at 31. It came completely out of nowhere. He seemed fine. Normal. We had just finished planning the next set of episodes.

After it happened, everything changed. I got the messages everyone gets in situations like that. “Sorry for your loss.” “Let me know if you need anything.” And then the numbers started dropping. Listeners disappeared faster than I expected. It felt like the world moved on while I was still stuck in the moment it happened.

We used to have a routine. Tuesdays were recording days. Wednesdays were editing. Fridays were uploads. Main used to joke that I ran the podcast like a hospital schedule, like if one thing slipped the whole operation would collapse. I didn’t think much of it then. Now I do.

After he died, I tried to keep going. I really did. But I couldn’t focus. I’d sit in front of the editing timeline for hours and not move anything. Sometimes I’d just listen to my own voice over and over until it stopped sounding like me.

That’s when things started to slip. I started looking for answers. Not in a dramatic way. Just… trying to understand. Why someone would do that. What it feels like. What leads up to it. I told myself it was research. Curiosity. Nothing more.

Eventually I found a site.

I won’t describe it in detail. I don’t want anyone else going down the same path I did. It wasn’t obvious at first. It looked like a normal platform with categories and uploads, like any other media site. That was the worst part about it. At first I only looked briefly. Then longer. Then I started going back when I couldn’t sleep.

I told myself I was just trying to understand Main. That if I watched long enough, something would make sense. It didn’t.

I should have stopped then. But I didn’t. I made an account. I started spending hours there. It became part of my routine without me even deciding it was.

My podcast started suffering. I cancelled recordings. Stopped replying to sponsors. I kept telling myself I’d fix it once I figured everything out in my head. But the site started feeling less like something I was choosing to visit and more like something that was waiting for me. And I keep getting the feeling that if I stop watching, I’ll miss something important.

Is this a good idea?

reddit.com
u/thesmartcoolguy — 2 days ago

My daughter's braces kept tightening on their own.

More than two billion people in the world have had braces at some point in their lives, and right now over forty million people are wearing them. I looked that up the other night, like 2am, sitting on the floor outside her door for reasons I'll get into. Don't really know why I looked it up. Maybe I wanted it to feel normal, like she was just some tiny piece of a big dumb statistic and none of this was what I actually think it is.

Ok so. I need to get this out of my head and onto something, anything, because if I don't it's starting to feel like it didn't happen, and it happened, I know it happened.

My daughter got braces at fifteen. At the time it just felt like a normal parenting thing, you know? Wax, the special little toothbrush, her complaining she looks stupid when she smiles, me telling her she doesn't, not totally sure she ever believed me on that one. That was the whole thing as far as I was concerned. Nothing more to it.

Her orthodontist was this guy, Roberts Wills. I want to say right away, I don't think he did this on purpose. Whatever "this" turns out to mean. He wasn't creepy or off in any way, wasn't one of those guys with the too-white teeth and the photos of himself with the local news lady on the wall. He was just... patient, actually. Like genuinely patient. She'd ask him the same question two appointments in a row and he'd answer it both times like it was brand new to him. I liked the guy. Which matters, I think, given everything after.

About three weeks in she starts telling me her braces feel tighter in the mornings. And I said that's not how it works, they only tighten at the office, not overnight while you sleep, that's literally the point of going in. She got kind of annoyed at me, said she wasn't making it up. Honestly I brushed it off a bit. Teenagers complain, that's basically a full time job for them, figured it'd sort itself out.

It did not sort itself out. She comes down for breakfast one day with these circles under her eyes, like actual dark circles, on a fifteen year old, and says she woke up in the night with pressure in her jaw. She used the word screw. Said it felt like someone was turning a screw in there. I remember exactly where I was standing when she said that. Put my coffee down and never picked it back up.

Called the office myself that morning, they got her in that same afternoon, which at the time I was thankful for. Feel a bit different about that now, if I'm honest.

She comes out of the appointment looking more annoyed than relieved which I clocked but didn't think much of at the time. Asked what he said. "He said everything's fine." I pushed a little because fine wasn't cutting it, and she said he checked every bracket, took new photos, went over the x-rays, all of it, said the teeth were moving exactly how they should. Asked if she felt ok about that. She said "I guess" in that flat teenager voice that basically means no.

I did what I think most of us do honestly, decided the professional looked, professional found nothing, so he's probably right and I should just stop.

Next week or so I start noticing little things, without really trying to notice them. She's not eating anything that needs actual chewing. Keeps her hand on the side of her face at dinner like she's holding something still. One time I watch her start a sentence and just stop halfway, on purpose, press her lips together, like finishing it might move something that shouldn't move.

Heard her on the phone one night, wasn't trying to, just walking past her door, asking a friend if you'd even be able to tell, if your braces were moving your teeth too far. Friend laughs it off, says the wire would just snap first. And I hear my daughter go, quiet, almost to herself, "I don't think mine are trying to snap."

Took her back twice more over the next ten days. Same waiting room both times, same chairs, same fish tank in the corner I have now spent way too much of my life staring at. Both times he comes out and says almost the exact same line: "they're working exactly as intended." And both times it sounds totally reasonable while he's standing there in his little polo shirt with his clipboard, and then completely insane by the time I'm pulling out of the car park.

I've gone over this so many times since and I really don't think he was lying to us. Don't think he was hiding anything either. I think whenever she's in that chair, under his light, with his tools, the braces just act like braces are supposed to act. Whatever's going on, I don't think it happens with him in the room.

It was always after we got home that it got worse. Every time.

I know how that sounds. I've said it to myself in about ten different tones trying to make it sound less mental and it never does. Keep going back and forth between there's a normal explanation and I'm just too scared to look for it, and something else, something I'm not ready to type yet, because typing it feels like the point where you can't take it back anymore.

Turns out she's been keeping a journal this whole time. Didn't know that till recently. It's on her desk right now. I've read about half of it, sitting on the edge of her bed with the door shut, telling myself I'd stop the second it got to be too much.

Got to be too much about nine pages ago.

Not finishing it tonight. Genuinely don't want to know what's on the last page before I absolutely have to.

reddit.com
u/thesmartcoolguy — 3 days ago

My daughter's braces kept tightening on their own.

More than two billion people in the world have had braces at some point in their lives, and right now over forty million people are wearing them. I looked that up the other night, like 2am, sitting on the floor outside her door for reasons I'll get into. Don't really know why I looked it up. Maybe I wanted it to feel normal, like she was just some tiny piece of a big dumb statistic and none of this was what I actually think it is.

Ok so. I need to get this out of my head and onto something, anything, because if I don't it's starting to feel like it didn't happen, and it happened, I know it happened.

My daughter got braces at fifteen. At the time it just felt like a normal parenting thing, you know? Wax, the special little toothbrush, her complaining she looks stupid when she smiles, me telling her she doesn't, not totally sure she ever believed me on that one. That was the whole thing as far as I was concerned. Nothing more to it.

Her orthodontist was this guy, Roberts Wills. I want to say right away, I don't think he did this on purpose. Whatever "this" turns out to mean. He wasn't creepy or off in any way, wasn't one of those guys with the too-white teeth and the photos of himself with the local news lady on the wall. He was just... patient, actually. Like genuinely patient. She'd ask him the same question two appointments in a row and he'd answer it both times like it was brand new to him. I liked the guy. Which matters, I think, given everything after.

About three weeks in she starts telling me her braces feel tighter in the mornings. And I said that's not how it works, they only tighten at the office, not overnight while you sleep, that's literally the point of going in. She got kind of annoyed at me, said she wasn't making it up. Honestly I brushed it off a bit. Teenagers complain, that's basically a full time job for them, figured it'd sort itself out.

It did not sort itself out. She comes down for breakfast one day with these circles under her eyes, like actual dark circles, on a fifteen year old, and says she woke up in the night with pressure in her jaw. She used the word screw. Said it felt like someone was turning a screw in there. I remember exactly where I was standing when she said that. Put my coffee down and never picked it back up.

Called the office myself that morning, they got her in that same afternoon, which at the time I was thankful for. Feel a bit different about that now, if I'm honest.

She comes out of the appointment looking more annoyed than relieved which I clocked but didn't think much of at the time. Asked what he said. "He said everything's fine." I pushed a little because fine wasn't cutting it, and she said he checked every bracket, took new photos, went over the x-rays, all of it, said the teeth were moving exactly how they should. Asked if she felt ok about that. She said "I guess" in that flat teenager voice that basically means no.

I did what I think most of us do honestly, decided the professional looked, professional found nothing, so he's probably right and I should just stop.

Next week or so I start noticing little things, without really trying to notice them. She's not eating anything that needs actual chewing. Keeps her hand on the side of her face at dinner like she's holding something still. One time I watch her start a sentence and just stop halfway, on purpose, press her lips together, like finishing it might move something that shouldn't move.

Heard her on the phone one night, wasn't trying to, just walking past her door, asking a friend if you'd even be able to tell, if your braces were moving your teeth too far. Friend laughs it off, says the wire would just snap first. And I hear my daughter go, quiet, almost to herself, "I don't think mine are trying to snap."

Took her back twice more over the next ten days. Same waiting room both times, same chairs, same fish tank in the corner I have now spent way too much of my life staring at. Both times he comes out and says almost the exact same line: "they're working exactly as intended." And both times it sounds totally reasonable while he's standing there in his little polo shirt with his clipboard, and then completely insane by the time I'm pulling out of the car park.

I've gone over this so many times since and I really don't think he was lying to us. Don't think he was hiding anything either. I think whenever she's in that chair, under his light, with his tools, the braces just act like braces are supposed to act. Whatever's going on, I don't think it happens with him in the room.

It was always after we got home that it got worse. Every time.

I know how that sounds. I've said it to myself in about ten different tones trying to make it sound less mental and it never does. Keep going back and forth between there's a normal explanation and I'm just too scared to look for it, and something else, something I'm not ready to type yet, because typing it feels like the point where you can't take it back anymore.

Turns out she's been keeping a journal this whole time. Didn't know that till recently. It's on her desk right now. I've read about half of it, sitting on the edge of her bed with the door shut, telling myself I'd stop the second it got to be too much.

Got to be too much about nine pages ago.

Not finishing it tonight. Genuinely don't want to know what's on the last page before I absolutely have to.

reddit.com
u/thesmartcoolguy — 4 days ago

I have a serious addiction.

Hello, I am Nicole Biers. I am 29 and live in Toronto, Canada. I run a podcast called Stereotypes Squad(would love a listen, btw). I edit and upload everything myself to Spotify, and I’m mildly successful. I make enough to get by and don’t need another job right now.

I am not, and have never been, suicidal. I could never really understand that kind of thought.

But four months ago, my on-air partner, Main Yestown, died by suicide at 31. It came completely out of nowhere. He seemed fine. Normal. We had just finished planning the next set of episodes.

After it happened, everything changed. I got the messages everyone gets in situations like that. “Sorry for your loss.” “Let me know if you need anything.” And then the numbers started dropping. Listeners disappeared faster than I expected. It felt like the world moved on while I was still stuck in the moment it happened.

We used to have a routine. Tuesdays were recording days. Wednesdays were editing. Fridays were uploads. Main used to joke that I ran the podcast like a hospital schedule, like if one thing slipped the whole operation would collapse. I didn’t think much of it then. Now I do.

After he died, I tried to keep going. I really did. But I couldn’t focus. I’d sit in front of the editing timeline for hours and not move anything. Sometimes I’d just listen to my own voice over and over until it stopped sounding like me.

That’s when things started to slip. I started looking for answers. Not in a dramatic way. Just… trying to understand. Why someone would do that. What it feels like. What leads up to it. I told myself it was research. Curiosity. Nothing more.

Eventually I found a site.

I won’t describe it in detail. I don’t want anyone else going down the same path I did. It wasn’t obvious at first. It looked like a normal platform with categories and uploads, like any other media site. That was the worst part about it. At first I only looked briefly. Then longer. Then I started going back when I couldn’t sleep.

I told myself I was just trying to understand Main. That if I watched long enough, something would make sense. It didn’t.

I should have stopped then. But I didn’t. I made an account. I started spending hours there. It became part of my routine without me even deciding it was.

My podcast started suffering. I cancelled recordings. Stopped replying to sponsors. I kept telling myself I’d fix it once I figured everything out in my head. But the site started feeling less like something I was choosing to visit and more like something that was waiting for me. And I keep getting the feeling that if I stop watching, I’ll miss something important.

Is this a good idea?

reddit.com
u/thesmartcoolguy — 4 days ago

Unhealthy Addiction

Hello, I am Nicole Biers. I am 29 and live in Toronto, Canada. I run a podcast called Stereotypes Squad(would love a listen, btw). I edit and upload everything myself to Spotify, and I’m mildly successful. I make enough to get by and don’t need another job right now.

I am not, and have never been, suicidal. I could never really understand that kind of thought.

But four months ago, my on-air partner, Main Yestown, died by suicide at 31. It came completely out of nowhere. He seemed fine. Normal. We had just finished planning the next set of episodes.

After it happened, everything changed. I got the messages everyone gets in situations like that. “Sorry for your loss.” “Let me know if you need anything.” And then the numbers started dropping. Listeners disappeared faster than I expected. It felt like the world moved on while I was still stuck in the moment it happened.

We used to have a routine. Tuesdays were recording days. Wednesdays were editing. Fridays were uploads. Main used to joke that I ran the podcast like a hospital schedule, like if one thing slipped the whole operation would collapse. I didn’t think much of it then. Now I do.

After he died, I tried to keep going. I really did. But I couldn’t focus. I’d sit in front of the editing timeline for hours and not move anything. Sometimes I’d just listen to my own voice over and over until it stopped sounding like me.

That’s when things started to slip. I started looking for answers. Not in a dramatic way. Just… trying to understand. Why someone would do that. What it feels like. What leads up to it. I told myself it was research. Curiosity. Nothing more.

Eventually I found a site.

I won’t describe it in detail. I don’t want anyone else going down the same path I did. It wasn’t obvious at first. It looked like a normal platform with categories and uploads, like any other media site. That was the worst part about it. At first I only looked briefly. Then longer. Then I started going back when I couldn’t sleep.

I told myself I was just trying to understand Main. That if I watched long enough, something would make sense. It didn’t.

I should have stopped then. But I didn’t. I made an account. I started spending hours there. It became part of my routine without me even deciding it was.

My podcast started suffering. I cancelled recordings. Stopped replying to sponsors. I kept telling myself I’d fix it once I figured everything out in my head. But the site started feeling less like something I was choosing to visit and more like something that was waiting for me. And I keep getting the feeling that if I stop watching, I’ll miss something important.

Is this a good idea?

reddit.com
u/thesmartcoolguy — 4 days ago
▲ 59 r/Scream

With Scream 8 RUMORED to be set in london, what are some things from london that could be a good horror set piece?

Sorry if i chose the most stereotypical things in london, i don't live there and have never been, sorry.

u/thesmartcoolguy — 7 days ago

Another Muldoon comic!

after the last post i see people like there muldoon comics, so i have found another one, the person on instagram who i believe strangetrek on instagram is the original poster. thanks for checking out the comic.

u/thesmartcoolguy — 18 days ago
🔥 Hot ▲ 8.5k r/JurassicPark

Clever boy...

Found this old meme from pet_foolery on twitter i thought might give some a good chuckle. I think this was posted somewhere else but not on the jurassic park subreddit so i am posting it here now credit to pet_foolery on twitter

u/thesmartcoolguy — 21 days ago

Jurassic Park movie stills

Doing this for every jurassic movie so enjoy i will try finding the highest quality stills so enjoy thanks for viewing thanks and enjoy thanks i will hope you enjoy as i try to reach the lovely 200 characters limit.

u/thesmartcoolguy — 22 days ago