Crawling Dreams の小説・ストーリー

I dragged my hands through my hair, releasing a frustrated breath. In my dream, I was often chased by predatory creatures with gleaming red eyes that I couldn't make out in the darkness and blurriness. The snarls and tension had coaxed a shudder from me, and the sensation of fear still lingered, my body trembling in reaction.

She tried to make meaning out of it, but it was a little creepy. "Now let me try to understand it" Avocado. In her dream, she was eager to pluck and eat them. As a matter of fact, she was stealing them. Now that was a little weird because in reality, she never ate them. She hated avocados and even had the one behind her room cut down when she was ten.

The demon hisses, looking frantically out the windows for any signs of the creatures. Oh, f**k me. Crawlers were a type of hunting beast, trackers, like blood hounds. They lived in The Deadlands of The Underworld, forbidden to enter The Mortal Realm because they were deadly and unpredictable. Crawlers were about the size of a six foot tall human with enhanced speed and strength, and looked like pinkish/red lizards minus the tail. They have no visible eyes, smooth skin, and have four inch claws that could easily shred flesh like pulled pork. Not to mention the mouth of razor sharp teeth they have and the five foot tongue they shot out like a freaking frog. I do not want to meet a Crawler even

He half shifted into his primordial form but couldn't hear her heartbeat or pulse. Zoran holds her lifeless body in his arms, his eyes filled with despair. “Auuuuuhhh” he howled in pain and a lone tear slid down his face. Zoran’s eyes snapped open and he looked around him before taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. This dream has haunted him for years and every time, it always ends the same way. He frowned and wiped his sweat covered face with his hand, his eyes were also slightly wet, like he had cried. Even his hair was wet, just like every time he wakes up from the dream.

This type of agony? Healing is so much easier with a wolf. Callie gave me a special broth to help ease the pain and to help me sleep. It tasted like ass, but it did help. The broth gave me strange dreams, though. Fantastical dreams where I was doing really weird stuff. In one dream, I was Slade, wandering through the desert, parched and dying of dehydration. In another, I was a dragon, sailing through the sky, looking for a pile of red jewels on the beach below. A third dream had me fighting a horde of trolls with vegetables as weapons. I brandished cucumbers and carrots and celery sticks, trying to fend off the ugly trolls.

Pressing hard. And— That second pulse. Fast. Unsteady. Too strong. I swallow, trying to breathe. Trying to calm down. It was a dream. Just a dream. But— It didn’t feel like one. It felt— Real. Too real. Fear creeps through me again. Slow. Cold. My fingers tighten against my shirt. Why am I having dreams like this? What was that place? That cave… That forest… My breathing slows slightly. But my chest still feels tight.

I crawled under the covers on my side, careful not to wake him. Sleep didn’t come easily that night; I spent a long time staring at the ceiling, my mind whirling relentlessly. When I did finally drift off, I dreamed about Zoe and Ella pulling each other’s hair, tears streaming down their cheeks. I dreamed about Zoe being carried away from me over Alaric’s shoulder, her little hands reaching for me. And most of all, I dreamed about a cruel woman holding a whip in her hands, her stern eyes scrutinizing my every move as I tried to push a boulder up a never ending hill.

[Rachel's POV] I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. The vivid images from my dream lingered in my mind, replaying like a haunting movie. A lycan and a wolf locked in a fierce battle, a woman and a little girl running for their lives. The terror of the chase, the slashing claws, and the echoing screams filled my ears. It was a recurring nightmare that had haunted me since childhood.

There’s no winning against my eyelids as they finally clamp shut, closing out the world. In the darkness, my mind tumbles through surreal dreams. My dad appears, I think to call out to him, but my voice can’t reach across a wide ravine separating us. I glance down into the deep scar it carves into the earth. Streaming through the gully like an oily black snake runs a river of pitch. When I stare into it, a cold sweat breaks out across my body. Then I hear something calling out to me. It’s not dad, it’s a little girl’s, I flipped my eyes open trying to figure out what that dream was all about.

The lock screen clock tells her it’s 8. It takes 45 minutes to reach, very few people arrive at this time. She reaches her cubicle and sets down her bag. Turning on the computer she opens chrome again and types - ‘What do recurring dreams mean?’ She fervently scrolled up and her eyes caught one snippet of an article: ‘Recurring dreams often tell you the future.’ Her ears started ringing. Future? What kind of future does her dream entail? The images, the scenarios that momentarily gripped her with fear and anxiety. The dream that she had since 16, the one that did not show her any pattern, the one where she never heard anyone’s voice but filled with horrific images that made her scream awake