A true crime inspired nightmare
Jasmin Linton (She/Her) // Contributor
Eugene Lee (she/her) // Illustrator
CW: mention of violence and physical assault
It turns out binge-watching true crime during COVID is less about distracting yourself from schoolwork and more about inviting your subconscious to host its own horror marathon. That’s exactly what I faced when I came across the Night Stalker documentary. Now, true crime is not for everyone. I am someone who can’t do horror movies because I’m too anxious, but I still believe I’m a reasonably logical person. When watching a documentary about a murderer, I’m able to rationalize that I’m not part of the victim profile. The issue was, the Night Stalker, Richard Ramirez, had no victim profile, he would go after anyone and everyone. The fact that two of his victims, Mabel Bell and Florence Lang who were sisters in their eighties, really got to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about my own sister. This thought, paired with the fact his victims had to be frightened before he assaulted them—the only way he got a thrill— absolutely terrified me. All logic—like the fact that his spree was in the 80s and he literally died in 2013—went out the window. I was scared. I couldn’t sleep on my back for weeks, not being able to look at the door.
This all came to a climax when I started dreaming about the murderer. I went to bed as usual, then woke up in a cold sweat from a god awful nightmare featuring the one and only Night Stalker. I was on a train going at top speed through a beautiful lush forest. I remember seeing the sun through the trees. I knew I was running from someone and jumping through train cars. I was leaping over the knuckle couplers and weaving between cargo. I never saw the Night Stalker in this dream, I just knew he was there stalking me. I ran into multiple Stormtroopers on the way, asking for help to no avail. Which is strange, considering that to this day, I still haven’t watched Star Wars.
One thing that scares me is needing assistance or help in a dangerous situation and not being believed. This feeling was amplified in the dream with the lack of passengers and the presence of the Stormtroopers. After what felt like endless running, I finally made it to the control room. I thought I’d be able to stop the train and continue running away, trying to find some help. As I arrived, both my sister and my dad were there waiting for me to take charge and stop the train. There were too many buttons on the control panel, so many colours, all flashing lights and intimidation. I was stuck, no ideas on how to stop the train. That sense of being out of control made my anxiety flare, and the Night Stalker was only getting closer and closer. If that wasn’t enough, I now had to worry about my family being in harm’s way.
What started as a harmless true crime binge ended with my own mind turning against me, blurring the line between logic and fear. This was indeed a wakeup call to take a break from true crime (especially before bed!).