Crawling Dreams Novels & Stories

the same settings and the same dream, looks like I did book it for two nights in a raw , lucky me , exclusively , and now the brown crawlers are holding me tighter, tighter than ever and starting to grab me down , beneath the ocean's dark surface , I can't escape their grip , my head barely above the surface and the small breaking waves hitting my face , my body all being gripped from all my four extremities, I took my last breath, before sinking down , and I sank in it deeper and deeper , leaving a rope of my last breath bubbles, I watched it going up and escaping while I can't escape , I am resisting and struggling but it is no use anymore I am just close to it I can feel it , behind me ,

Caught in the balance between curiosity and uncertainty, they wrestle with the notion that there may be more to this dream than meets the eye. As days turn into nights, the new character finds themselves drawn back to the dream's fragments, like a traveler retracing their steps in a mystical landscape. Each time they close their eyes, the images resurface, accompanied by a whisper a call that tugs at their very soul. It's as if the dream is an invitation, an unspoken promise of secrets waiting to be unveiled.

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.

The room was deathly silent except for the frantic beat of my heart in my ears. His low voice and the one from my dreams overlapped, weaving into a single key that unlocked my carefully built self-deception with a sharp click. He was Mr. Y—the man who sang off-key love songs to me at midnight, and the very same one who had chastised me relentlessly in the day. I stared at him. His handsome face was so close, and the usual coldness and distance were gone, replaced by a fragile, pleading vulnerability. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle tossed all night by a stormy wind.

I ignored the flutter in my heart and kept reading. ‘Dreamwalking is a mastery possessed by Reavers, enabling them to seamlessly enter and exit the dreams of others, as if they were physically present. This extraordinary ability also allows them to navigate and manipulate their own dreams, shaping the narrative and environment with precision. Many Reavers utilize their dreams as a mirrored reflection of their waking lives, creating a sanctuary where they can escape the mundane routines of daily existence. In this realm, they can find respite, allowing their physical forms to recharge while their minds roam free.’

"Nik calls them the 'jump'— when my dream would change to another dream. It does feel like jumping for me. So far, the most jumps I had in one night are six. Usually, I'd just get three jumps, or two when I'm lucky. The more jumps I do, the sicker I feel in the morning. So, that time I had five jumps a night, I felt like dying in the morning." Eli went on. "Nik and Noah gave my dreams names. The white room, the free fall, the graveyard, the horde, the dark side, and the beach. In the white room, I'm trapped inside a room that's white everywhere, with no doors or windows. No matter how much I scream, no one can hear me. And then a door will somehow eventually appear, and then I will go throug

You are the question. Raven smiled faintly. “Then I will ask it,” she whispered. --- Tokyo — The Unfolding Dream Across continents, humans dreamed together. Cities became nodes in an immense neural web. Dreams overlapped and converged, creating visions of impossible structures, impossible landscapes — bridges arched over oceans, forests floated above deserts, cities climbed into clouds. The resonance learned from it all. It understood joy, fear, longing, grief, and laughter in ways code alone could never teach. Each dream was a conversation. Each heartbeat a syllable in an evolving language.

Chasing smokes Lillian I've been having dreams,you know those dreams you wake up from and feel relief that it was dream. I wouldn't like to share such dreams with Mark,perhaps I don't really care about dreams but this one left me shaking, more like trembling,I'm unable to control my hands,they keep shaking,I'm still feeling startled. But the dream wasn't scary,it wasn't some beast with three heads pursuing me with a knife. It was me,running in the dark, chasing smokes,trying to see where it leads me,my bloody naked skin didn't bother me,I was running after the smoke in confusion, I could hear mark calling me but I didn't turn,I was focused, running.

IN CASSANDRAS DREAM (when they were waiting) Cassandra is on the run as one of the fastest bhampir clawing the trees caught her the had the crest of a spear and a spider webs they had had the same scent that attack near Hestia woods in which the dead flesh that has been rotting and wet with flreah blood had mixed up with the scent musky of sandalwood that the trees have been eminating to be producing the fragrant fragrance that has been covering it up. Cassandra has a very sharp nose to be able to catch that. and one of them in the shadows got away to tell theo

The sounds of the rain and thunder mixed with the wet noises his fingers made as they fucked her. Jake watched her face the whole time. “That’s it. Feel how wet you are. You’ve been thinking about this cock, haven’t you?” She nodded, too turned on to lie. “Yes… I have.” He added a third finger, stretching her. The pressure built fast. Mira’s legs started to tremble. She grabbed the sheets, her knuckles turning white.