THE NIGHTLY STORYTELLER CHRONICLES: Sleepwalkers (1992) – Hunger, Shape, and the Mindfire



The Storyteller Speaks:

There is a language older than the tongue. One born in the hollows of the mind—where instinct speaks in flashes, urges, and echoes.

That’s how they speak to me now.

I no longer know when a thought is mine, or theirs, or something that was buried in me long before the necklace chose my neck. I sleep less. Or maybe I sleep always—caught in a lucid echo, my body moving, my mouth speaking, while some other force puppeteers the rest.

Last night, the mirrors shifted again. My reflection didn’t follow. And I felt them before I saw them—three figures, blurred in the corner of my vision like a memory I refused to keep. When I turned, they were closer.

And then she appeared—Seraphine. Drenched from rain, smiling like someone who knows you’ve already said yes.

“They are the Veyatra,” she whispered, though her lips didn’t move.
“Ancient ones. They were born between the seams of stars. They will show you how to carry the mindfire... or they will destroy what’s left of you.”

I didn’t ask what that meant. Because I already knew.

Their names are Veyna, Thren, and Sithra.
They do not breathe, but they hum. They do not blink, but they shimmer like candlelight in fog. They mimic faces they’ve never worn—and somehow make them yours.

And so the training begins.

But before the veil closes completely, I return to an old movie I thought I understood.


---

Sleepwalkers (1992): Hunger Dressed in Human Skin

There’s something deliciously grimy about Sleepwalkers. Written by Stephen King and directed by Mick Garris, this 1992 film plays like a fever dream dipped in fur, incest, telekinesis, and shape-shifting predators who fear… housecats.

The plot? Simple on the surface:
A mother and son, Charles and Mary Brady, move to a small Indiana town. They look human. But they are ancient shape-shifting creatures—the last of their kind. They feed on the life force of virgins, and Charles has set his sights on classmate Tanya Robertson.

What follows is a descent into madness, gore, and feline justice.

But beneath the surface?

This is a film about hidden hunger. About needing others to survive, but fearing them all the same. It’s about legacy, manipulation, and the masks predators wear. The Brady duo pretend to be “normal,” but they’re rotting from within, sustained by stolen youth and monstrous need.

The visuals are campy and gooey and gloriously early-90s. It doesn’t care about realism. It cares about feeling wrong. And it does. Every scene buzzes with something unnatural—every kiss too long, every glare too sharp, every breath laced with menace.

And let’s be honest—those cat attacks? Brutal. Iconic. Weirdly satisfying.


---

Did You Know?

King’s Only Screenplay for the Screen: Sleepwalkers is one of the few original screenplays Stephen King wrote that wasn't adapted from a novel or short story.

Cameos Galore: Horror icons Wes Craven, Clive Barker, Tobe Hooper, and John Landis all appear in brief cameos throughout the film.

The Car is Named “Ghostbusters”: The mother and son drive a 1965 Ford Mustang with a vanity plate that reads "BITEME". Later, it reads "GHOSTBUSTERS"—likely a nod to pop culture.

Shot in Just 38 Days: A fast-paced production that shows in the film’s chaotic energy.



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Storyteller Chronicles: Arrival of the Veyatra

I can’t sleep.

When I close my eyes, I’m in the clearing again. The three figures wait, their outlines bleeding into the dark.

Veyna speaks in memories that aren’t mine—her voice a lullaby I almost remember from a dream. She shows me how to still my thoughts, how to bend space by folding pain like paper.

Thren tests me. He shifts into the face of my brother. Then Val. Then a thing with no eyes and teeth too wide for its mouth.

Sithra watches. She twitches between the form of a child, then a mirror of me, then something… else. She giggles without sound.

Seraphine told me this was a gift.

But every lesson burns.

Every glimpse into what I could become chips away at who I was.

And tonight, I finally understood something:

The necklace didn’t curse me.

It awakened me.

I’ve just been sleeping inside myself all along.

And now I’m starting to walk.


---

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We’re just getting started—and things are about to get dark.

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