Biblical Dream Book Novels & Stories

"Don't forget to pack your stuffs properly. We will ask Osinala when we get to Umuise tomorrow to ask some men to help you carry your luggages. Good night James." "Good night Paul," James said. He got up and went to the room Paul Okeke had prepared for him. His clothes, bible and some books were scattered around. He arranged the bamboo bed properly and closed the window gently then he grabbed his bible. It was king James Version, the holy book first published in 1611 under the auspices of a great king of England, King James the first. The book was dark and had the Holy Bible written on the top of it. He opened it and stopped, then he flicked through the pages using the palm oil lamp that was

As the first light of dawn painted the sky, Drew and Jette faced the uncertain day ahead—a day that held the promise of unraveling the mysteries that lingered in the shadows of dreams and the echoes of a past that seemed to resurface in the most unexpected ways. The dawn broke with hues of soft pinks and golds, casting a gentle glow upon the apartment as Jette and Drew sat on the edge of their bed, grappling with the residual unease from the night's disturbance. The old journal, a silent witness to the unfolding events, lay between them like a bridge between reality and the inexplicable. "Drew," Jette began, her voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and determination, "the book from my

Her dreams had grown increasingly violent—shadows chasing her through forests of fire, Arthur bleeding before the hidden altar, and the voice of Michael whispering a single word into her soul: Run. She rose from bed, the sheets drenched in cold sweat. Her Bible lay open at her bedside, though she didn’t remember opening it. Her eyes fell to the verse highlighted in crimson ink: “The fire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is.” A verse she had not marked herself. The sanctuary was quieter than usual when she stepped into the morning light. The birds, usually chirping with praise, were eerily silent. Something had shifted. The air felt denser. The ground seemed to hum.

Alpha Angelo scratched the back of his head nervously, “I just had a dream that I intend to confirm its meaning from that book. About me reading the book, it has nothing to do with Omega Yna.” “A dream? What was the dream about?” Beta Dagon asked. “The chosen one,” he replied. Beta Dagon swallowed hard as he turned and faced him, ready to listen to his narration

Mr Faragher admitted. "Let me guess... revelations?" Damien asked with a knowing half smile. The teacher nodded. “I found it interesting in my youth.” "People are always interested in revelations, but unlike the rest of the bible, they aren’t accounts of things that happened, but dreams and portents. There's no guarantee it will go down that way." "Well there's no guarantee any of it is even r—" Mr Faragher started to argue. Damien cut him off. "I mean, imagine all the antichrists it mentions appeared at once. Wouldn't that be a doozy?"

Tessa took his hand and pulled him down the hall. As he entered the room, he looked at Jennah and Dom and couldn’t help think that this scene started because of a dream. A note from Jacqueline Paige: I hope you enjoyed reading Dreams as much as I enjoyed writing it! My website is jacquelinepaige (dot) com; I love feedback.

After completing the task, I pour myself another drink and head to the library to gather all the books that discuss prophecies. As I walk through the shelves of the library, I can feel the weight of the books in my hands. I scan the titles, searching for any that might hold the answers I seek. My eyes land on a thick, leather-bound tome with the word "Prophecies" etched in gold on the cover. I pull it from the shelf and flip through the pages, my heart racing with anticipation. As I read through the ancient texts, I begin to piece together the clues that will help me unravel the mystery of the prophecy. The words on the page seem to come alive, swirling and dancing before my eyes. I lose tra

I can’t stop hearing the demon’s word. Asha’ren… I swallow hard and grab another book, this one bound in cracked leather. The cover flakes under my touch. I open it carefully, scanning the pages. Symbols, rituals, and warnings. But none of it matches what I saw. None of it explains why demon arms rose from the ground to protect me, or why a demon spoke to me, or why I’ve been hearing that word in my dreams. I flip deeper into the book. A sketch catches my eye, and my breath stutters.

Caleb and Tucker scowled. Exasperated, Arthur yelled at my back, “Naomi, don’t bother coming back if you walk out the door today!” I nodded and blissfully disappeared into the night. ‘Mom, I’m taking your dream and living my own life now.’ … It was nearly midnight by the time I reached the dorms. I briefly unpacked my things and set a photo of my mother by the bed. The phone in my pocket kept buzzing with notifications. I pulled it out for a look. I had dozens of missed calls from Arthur, Caleb, Tucker, and Rhys.

The book was warm against my hand, as if it were growing hot or getting cold. But then, my eyes widened in shock as I recognised it. I gasped and dropped it to the ground. “This—it was only a dream. It was—” But it wasn’t. It was here. Heavy and solid, as real as the floor beneath my feet. The book from my dream. The burning book in my hand that the cloaked person wanted to get from me. Alexander’s growl deepened. He dragged himself upright, but he didn’t move closer. His eyes burned holes into me, into the book. “Where the hell did you get that? Why were you holding it in your sleep? Is this your freaking way of payback?”