Devil Dreams Novels & Stories

The Devil of my life can only be sweet to me in my dreams. I have been having this dream since I came to live in this house, every year on my parent's death anniversary. He is not here but he comes to my dream on this day every year to make me feel like I'm not alone. In the real world, he hated me so much. But in my dream, he holds me like I'm his porcelain doll with so much affection. He kisses my forehead like telling me that I'm his only treasure. He never wants to give up and says soothing words like’ I'm not alone and he is with me’. He embraces me in his arms with so much care.

she said. I looked at her…like seriously? “I believe him.” “How can you be sure?” I asked. Not like I didn’t believe her. “I could hear Lior.” “He manipulated both our dreams. Who’s to say he wasn’t manipulating that?” I asked. She goes silent for a moment but shakes her head. “No, my instincts are hardly ever wrong, Draven. Volkava has our son. What was your dream about?” I sat up slowly, dragging a hand down my face before letting it rest against my mouth. My jaw tightened as I remembered clear as a day being in a dark forest with only a voice and a presence.

“Lucian, open the door.” No answer. Inside, he was unraveling. The visions came like knives—sudden, sharp, cutting into his mind. Blurred images, smears of crimson across tiled walls, faceless bodies collapsing in silence. Blood slick on his hands, dripping between his fingers. His own reflection staring back at him in fractured glass, unrecognizable, eyes burning with something monstrous. The voices came next. Not one, not two, but a chorus—shouts of command, ragged screams, whispered instructions that slithered through his skull like poison. Obey. Kill. Bury it. Forget.

Y one final time whether we could meet. He refused again, saying he was busy with work and maybe another time. I steeled myself and sent the message I had prepared. "Darling, if we can't meet and I can't even hug or kiss you, we should just break up." I blocked him without a second thought. After the breakup, no one lulled me to sleep at night. My sleep deteriorated sharply, and the nightmares came one after another. In my dreams, a secretary led me to his office. I pushed open the heavy door alone and found nothing but darkness.

A blinding, suffocating dark haze violently clouded his entire vision, entirely replacing the terrifying hyper-lucidity with a deeply lethal, highly toxic delirium. He violently collapsed completely backward entirely into the freezing, deep sludge. He didn't actively possess the microscopic strength to completely fight it anymore. The empire was entirely ashes. As the terrifying, freezing black sludge violently filled his actively bleeding mouth, the complete, absolute darkness finally, violently swallowed the legendary Devil of Dalal Street entirely whole.

The vampire was looking at the devil as if to a psychopath " well let's see how much more cuter my dear daughter can get" says the devil and got his wings out and started flying toward Celea

His dreams were haunted by vivid, tormenting visions. In his dreams, he saw Peyton and Ava as he had observed them through the camera, making love in the shower. They were happy, completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to his existence. The dream twisted, morphing into a nightmarish version where Peyton and Ava began to taunt him, their loving gestures turning into cruel mockery. As they continued their intimate embrace, they hurled words of scorn and derision at him, echoing the harsh comments of the dominatrixes from his sessions.

A smile crossed my face as sleep began to take over. In a half-dream state, I heard him whisper, "In just a year, I'll be an adult. I hope you can wait for me." I woke in the middle of the night to find he had kicked off his blanket. Gently, I covered him again. That night, I had a vivid dream. I dreamt I had won the lottery, and when I went to claim my prize, it was Jared. Though I thought the winnings would end my financial struggles, seeing Jared made me equally happy.

She turned back to her desk—and froze. In the black glass of the window next to her, her reflection was… something else. It was her, but twisted. Hollow-eyed. Skin cracked like old porcelain. A demonic grin stretching across her face, fanged and unnatural. The light above flickered violently. Her screen dimmed, then flared white. She sat back down, breath catching in her throat. On the blog page, the entry read: “Dubbed The Devil’s Mirror due to its connection to the collapse of a demon-worshipping Sumerian civilisation over three thousand years ago…”

Akira had not finished his words, so Lee Umji only listened intently. "My body that woke up from a coma after one year was inhabited by Kim Hana. That is why she wrote a Daydream script about her life story. Then my body came back into a coma and after waking up for the second time, Kim Hana's soul forgot about herself and her own life," Lee Umji said, explaining position where at that time her soul was not in her body.