Victim of The Hause von Traumentur

When you look at a person who holds a lower job in life do not debase their intelligence. Not all of them planed their occupation to be as such and I am no exception. 45, grey haired and with failing knees I can be found mopping the floors of a local shopping mall but at one time I was somebody with a clear and bright future. That was until my first and last great mistake.

In the early 1990's I had just graduated from a prestigious college with several degrees in "Psychiatry". My scores were just above average and I had hopes of using my abilities to treat and heal many of our nations wounded veterans. Wither I had high scores or low I had to start somewhere and to me that somewhere was the local state run "Toad Run Psychiatric Institution". Patients with night terrors and repetitive dream issues were often sent my way and I was quite successful in rehabilitating them. Among my colleges I was joking referred to as "The Dream Weaver" as I often used hypnosis and dream analysis in addition to standard procedures to evaluate and process my patients. Then there were those that no doctor could cure, the truly insane.

My final patient that I had the "gift" of treating had arrived due to repetitive night terrors. Regular treatment had been tried before including sedatives to no effect. Forcing himself to stay away he often hallucinated what he had dreamt of the night before making him dangerous to other inmates and doctors alike. He was so often restrained that he would not struggle when he was not hallucinating. Looking back at it all I should have known there was something different with him. He had those bright green eyes that never blinked and always seemed to be staring right through me. I was told it was a side effect of one of his previous prescriptions but I think now it was just him. Some part of that evil dark soul he contained was just trying to get out and eventually it did.

The subject a Mr. "Geschwister" was heavily tormented by a shapeless aggressor in his dreams. His main influence was a horror themed book titled "The Hause Von TraumenTur". It was written in the style of branching path story books that were highly popular among young teens in the mid 1980's before video games were invented. This particular book contained elements directly influenced by the terrifying writings of H.P. Lovecraft. Many sequences within the book resulted in the readers "player character" dying. These death results were highly detailed yet at the same time described with enough emotion as to influence the reader on a subconscious level. Both he and his brother had read the book multiple times. Each time their character would die they would end up having disturbing nightmares the same night.

Then there was "game". Geschwister was 12 at the time his brother a year younger. Sharing the book they would give each other hints and tips. Sometimes one person would read and the other make the choices and roll the dice. As a player and a narrator they enjoyed switching roles when their character's died. The nightmares they shared were distinctly different but were directly influenced by the mature topic matter of the book. Where many game books of the time were aimed toward young teens this particular volume was written specifically for adults. Geschwister's descriptions were quite clear and graphic in descriptions of the nightmares and how they compared to the character deaths in the book. Even he recognized the link between the two at that young an age. Eventually the younger brother had enough of the nightmares and stopped playing the book all together. He soon recovered from his sequential nightmares and continued on with life.

Geschwister on the other hand did not. Even though he had stopped playing the book, even ripping it up and throwing it away, he continued to have sequential nightmares. This is where his mind began to faultier. The trauma of night terrors began to wear on him quickly. Sedatives were prescribed by his psychologist at the time, unaware of how deeply rooted the nightmares were. Hypnosis revealed little fault in his family life, nor any childhood trauma that would surface in the form of these fantasy inspired nightmares. Like the aspects of death the book's topic matter was too strong and blunt for his young mind to comprehend let alone process properly. Having played the game with his brother was a joyful time that they both enjoyed and now the ties of family also cemented the terrors and nightmares into place. One becoming synonymous for the other. The sedatives did not help him. Instead of allowing him to sleep it made the dreams seem more intense. His physical health returned but his mental health soon evolved into the patterns of one subject to constant torture. He withdrew from contact with his family and began to show aberrant behaviors.

Some aspect of daily life would be linked to a memory created in a dream. Unable to identify the differences between reality and sleep he would react appropriately. The fits would start normal enough, he would become distracted with his internal thoughts before racing away in desperation or crumpling into a crying mess. It was soon found that he was abusing the use of his prescription sedatives and stimulants simultaneously. Intense psychosomatic migraines followed soon afterwards as he tried to burry the dark visions and encounters. With the loss of his hold on reality he was quickly admitted to a Psychiatric Institution for both his health and the health of the now stressed and worn out family. It was hoped that a more severe regimen of long term treatments could help bring him back to reality and turn his fears into nothing more than laughable memories.

The most obvious course of action was to make him face his fears, the book. Unfortunately "The Hause Von TraumenTur" was impossible to find or locate. A combined writing campaign spearheaded by "BADD: Bothered against Dungeons and Dragons" and "The PTL Club" resulted in 75% of the unsold copies being recalled due to a variety of claims. Though many of the claim's were factually weak the truth was that sales of the book were far below expectations. Combined with the sheer volume of discontented voices the publisher agreed to recall the volume. Printing mills at the time often recycled recalled books for their wood pulp so the only copies that exist were those that were purchased or not returned due to seller disagreements. Seeking a draft from either the publisher or the author proved just as fruitless. Lancashire Books LTD had folded a year after the books release and all final draft’s were destroyed. This was all due to a space saving effort to reduce all necessary information down to one single folder. There were several authors listed that had worked on the book as it was a game but it was the primacy visionary that held the last known draft. Unfortunately he had retired to a convalescent home after he lost all his belongings in an electrical fire.

The next process of therapy was to force him to encounter his tormentor in the dream state. The concept was that with each encounter that Geschwister would start to create additional detail and information for his tormentor. That which each bit and piece of information that it would become less vague and undefined and become something entirely identifiable. Even if Geschwister still thought it was monstrous this information could be used to push him forward and make him realize how limited and small his fears were. The results of a long campaign were fruitless. He could not or would not apply any sort of definition to this nocturnal tormentor.

Geschwister was already on a low dosage antipsychotic during therapy which had a minimal effect on helping the process. A larger dose resulted in destabilizing side effects making any form of therapy useless. He was returned to his original dosage. His legal guardians agreed to drug trials on a new second generation antipsychotic. The first test bed dose was administered during the day. Evaluation an hour later showed that he was responding positively to the treatment and was left to see if it had any effects on his dreams that night.

When the door to his safety cell was opened an immense cloud of green gnats had escaped the room. Inside orderlies found Mr. Geschwister body. His eyes were missing even though there was no sign of trauma around the sockets or the flesh that surrounded the eyes. His arms were still restrained by his side and his fingers clean of any blood. The coroner had determined that his eyeballs had become infested with gnat larvae which had begun to burrow into his brain. When they hatched his eyeballs must have exploded resulting in the hollowed out appearance.

My colleges condemned me for not performing a full physical examination. Like hell they would have. The state only prescribed cat-scans for patients in dire physical health or those patients who had exhausted all other forms of psychological treatment. He seemed physical fit and healthy and since he had shown improvement with the new drug he would have never been approved. None the less I was the fall guy and I lost my job, my license, and my future. About the only thing that I ever got from that case was a book. On the last day as I was cleaning out my office I received a package. Someone on that long list of telephone calls had heard how I was attempting to obtain "The Hause Von Traumentur" and sent me their copy.

By this point I was no fan of horror or psycho thrillers and did not want to shove that junk into my head. I had seen enough with Mr. Geschwister and wanted no more. I was still a doctor and wanted to do something with my training. I decided to make a case study of it and to record the effects that the book had on its readers. I loaned it to several of my friends as long as they returned the book unaltered. In low working jobs it was easy to find those that you hate and it was curious to watch as my victims suffered from intense nightmares. It was only when they returned the book that they stopped having them. All except the one who by what I can tell is the only one who "cheated" playing the game. His nightmares increased, turned into night terrors, and eventual hallucinations. He died one night when he ran into oncoming traffic. According to witnesses he ran as if possessed like he was escaping something. He was completely unaware of the traffic.

Now that disgusting book has ruined at least three lives. On cold days when my back aches and my knees hurt and I contemplate how I have no retirement fund or savings, I look over at it on the shelf and wonder to myself "Which weapon should I use. The one of words or the one of metal."

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