[WP] Insomniac finds the existence of Sandman, he doesn't know that it's a curse.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. "Should animal rights be extended to plants? Plants are capable of adapting to different environmental circumstances and therefore have a consciousness capability to--" Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Dan's eyes felt heavy but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He hadn't slept in 12 sunsets. Was that longer than a week? How many hours? He didn't know. He didn't need to. Numbers glowed at him from various screens in either darkness or light. Numbers carried no meaning for him. The sun was just a free light that made it easier for him to read by. Just because he no longer needed to sleep didn't mean he wouldn't like to. He had read volumes of encyclopedias. He knew Richard Nixon's favorite breakfast food. (Cottage cheese.) He knew what was on each state quarter. (He was especially fond of Idaho's, a peregrine falcon.) His brain contained mountains of useless information. Valleys of useless information. Canyons of useless information. In fact, his brain was probably a lot more like canyons. Brains contained small wrinkles, and within those-- Focus. Focus. Focus. The trouble with high brain activity was that he never got time to rest. He'd had people explain to him that sleeping--or dreaming--was like a computer doing a disk cleanup. You got time to reset. To memory dump. To eliminate unnecessary files. He never had that luxury. He only received small moments of visual memory dumps. Brief times when memories would flash and allow him to at least put all this damn information somewhere. "Christ. If I could just--I just need to--" he was getting less coherent. He couldn't even finish his sentences anymore. He knew he needed a rest. He would do anything for it. If only he could-- There was a knock at the door. He looked at the clock. A useless endeavor. It was 3:37. It was dark, so it must be AM. He put on his robe. The knocking got quicker. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" He yanked open the door, knowing that social conventions have taught him he should be annoyed that someone was calling upon him at this hour. It didn't matter. Nothing really did. "Good evening sir," a calm man said. He was wearing a waistcoat and had curly white tendrils hanging off the sides of his face. The top of his head was balding, like his hair was crawling away from the blaring moonlight. Dan knew he should continue being angry. But he was really more curious as to who this was. "Um. Good evening," Dan replied. "I heard some grunts of frustration from about your bedchambers and felt I could offer you some assistance." "You can--I mean--How?" "I...am The Sandman. I have been gifted the grand ability of giving periodic states of unsconsciousness to those lucky enough to receive it. I have not paid you a visit in recent times and for that I am deeply apologetic," The Sandman explained. "Were you waiting for me to not be able to complete sentences?" Dan asked sardonically. The Sandman gave a quick chuckle. "Oh, no, Sir. I simply wanted to test how humanity would fare without sleep. You just seemed an intriguing text subject." Dan grunted. "So what are you gonna do? Chuck a bag of sand in my eyes? Tuck me in? Give me warm milk?" The corners of The Sandman's mouth extended into a crooked grin. "Why, no, sir," he calmly reached behind his back. "I am going to downright bludgeon you with this sledgehammer instead so you can gain a forever sleep. The amount of knowledge you have retained is simply too much and your existence would only be painful from this point forward." Before Dan had time to retort, The Sandman swiftly aimed for Dan's temples. Slowly, Dan slumped to the ground with a giant thud. The Sandman laid down his sledgehammer and used his fingers to gently tug down his eyelids. "Humans are much too stupid to go this long without sleep. I am terribly sorry." The Sandman dragged Dan across the kitchen, down the hallway, and into his bedroom. He slumped him over his shoulder, and with a great deal of effort, plopped him down onto his bed. Someone would find him by morning and say he died from severe sleep deprivation.

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