inflation · sleep paralysis · body horror · surrealism · friend group · control · balloon fetish · intimacy · bizarre · awakening
The clock glows eight as you slips into sleep, the first to surrender at our slumber party. Shadows stretch long across the floorboards. Nyx catches my eye, a flicker of mischief in the dim light. 'Let’s go get the air tank,' they whisper, their voice a thread of excitement. 'I hid it here; I knew you would fall asleep fast,' I reply, pulling it from beneath the couch. We move with hushed precision—tying their wrists, positioning the cool nozzle between their lips. My thumb hovers over the switch. The prank is ready. Their breath is slow, steady. Ours is not.