Crawling Dreams Novels & Stories

he said gently, “what do you see in these dreams?” I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to recall the terrifying images that haunted my sleep. “It’s… it’s always dark,” I began, my voice a little shaky. “Sometimes, I’m falling. Falling into a deep, dark sea. The water is cold and heavy, and I can’t breathe. I’m drowning.” I shivered, even remembering the feeling. “And other times,” I continued, “I’m locked in a room. A small, dark room. There are no windows, no doors. Just… darkness. I can’t escape.”

Sure that's the reason, I crawl into bed, sinking into the cool comfort of my comforter. That night my dreams are plagued with the sounds of wolves howling out the moon, images of animals being torn to shreds by my own…claws. The stench of blood is seemingly the most vivid part of my dreams. A voice, cold and full of authority, echoes through my mind. “Hurry up,” the voice orders, practically growling, “finish what needs to be done.” “Release me.” Waking with a start, my head is pounding, my skin burning and itching worse than before.

I run toward him, screaming, but chains grow from the floor and wrap around my ankles. Then the dream changes. The walls of Blackridge melt into a forest of black trees where creatures with human teeth crawl after me on all fours. Their nails tear my skin. Their mouths rip flesh from my arms and chest while I keep running, unable to die, unable to wake. I see Lucas. I see Ryan. And I see myself drowning in blood while Ryan keeps asking one question. “Why?” The siren blares, jolting me awake. I wake with a violent gasp, my back soaked in sweat. Oliver glances at me from his bunk. “You look like hell.”

Marcus's eyes snapped open, and he sat up from the bed where he was laying, his heart racing like a jack rabbit from the vivid dream he just had. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the lingering emotions. In the dream, he was carrying a woman out of a burning building, her body limp in his arms. He hadn't seen her face, but his emotions had been intense, driven by a deep sense of love and concern. The dream's vivid imagery still lingered, and he could almost feel the intense heat of the flames engulfing him. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the lingering fear.

I walk over to her, shaking Roman and Lara with a slight shake of the head as her eyes meet mine; I feel close to the last option, before Linda and her boyfriend. There are a few books on the table, however I question they are using any later ones to research the titles. “Alright, what is this extremely vital thing you need to tell us? — Forma Roman, curious, as he puts an arm around the shoulders of his better half. I gasp for air and hold it in my lungs until the words begin to eAngelger from my mouth, recounting the pecuAmyr dream I had earlier today that I haven't had a chance to escape from my head, which is why I barely focused on any of my classes.

"You got it, boss." *** I'd only ever had one recurring dream before. When I was young, probably around ten, I dreamed about four-foot tall fire-breathing turtles coming onto the back porch of my family's country vacation home in Colorado. I followed them outside to a circus in a giant hollowed-out hole at the foot of the mountains. I watched the show from a bridge that went across the hole.

Caden War cries cascade my ears as claws clash against each other. Howls of pain follow. Blood spills on every inch of the once green pasture. Bones cracking. Women crying. Children crying. More blood. More howling. I find myself in the midst of the dark. I'm in a burning room. “Run Caden!” A woman screams before she's consumed by fire “Mother!” I jerk and my eyes move slowly around my room. This is the tenth time I've had this dream, each one being more horrific than the last.

She wandered her eyes around the neat sitting-room, it was sparkling clean not like yesterday that it was it so messy. Who cleaned the place up? She wondered. She find her way to the kitchen, luckily, she found some food ready to be microwaved, even though she never love microwave food but she was hungry to make choices now. She had been eating a lot these days, eating anything that was edible and her food craving was so worst. She may be craving for chocolate one minutes before she knew it, it would gave her weird feeling and she would found herself vomiting everything in her stomach... The beeping sound from the microwave jot her out of her thought. She wore her glove and brought it out.

And I remember my dreams in crystal clear intensity. In the dream I am sitting in a field of green wheat, the stalks bend lazily in the wind and I marvel at the grains. Each one is distinct and though different from the others, still perfectly formed. I run my hand along the edge to feel the combination of rough and smooth and then hold my face upward to feel the warm light of the mid summer day. The air smells just right and the birds fly in an almost cloudless sky. I start walking, the filed goes on forever and after a while my feet become roots, digging into the soil. My hands become green, soon I am also wheat, and I wave happily in the wind.

I went ahead and called his name but I didn’t get any reply so I went further, that was when I discovered he was saying something in a weird language, a language I later discovered that it was the dream language. There was something on his face that I had never seen before, even in the dream world, it was like a scale was growing on his body, I took out my newly acquired phone to take some pictures, at least if I really wanted to know who he really is I should have some pictures of him in his real form. After snapping it I check the picture, all it showed was a normal human being sleeping on a chair. That intrigued me so I took another one just to be sure, still the same thing. I sat down on