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MAG 98 - Lights Out
The Magnus Archives
The Sandman Comes for Me
I don't know how vivid or nightmarish the other accounts you collect here might be. Certainly nobody else pleased me when I speak of it, but the sandman came for me that very night. He was nothing like the story. He had no beak, but coarse, black sand trickled from his open mouth and hit the floor with a steady hiss. His legs were long, but he crossed the room slowly, every one of his joints moving and twisting as he took step after torturous step. There was no sound at all. I looked to my wife which she was locked in a peaceful sleep. Perhaps you can guess what happened next.
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