Disturbing Imagery Novels & Stories

I swung my legs off the bed and stood, pacing slowly, barefoot against the cool floor. “Okay,” I murmured to myself. “Okay.” Curiosity replaced the lingering shame, creeping in quietly but insistently. Not fear. Not denial. Interest. If it was stress, then why that image? If it was dissociation, why then? Why not before? Why not after? Instead, I grabbed my phone again and typed one last search—more tentative this time, almost embarrassed by its specificity. “Physical symptoms during creative trance” This time, the answers were more strange

His voice is loud in my head and I can't understand what he's saying, but I can feel his words twisting my memories into nightmares filled with gory images of Jocelyn dead in Nadia's arms, Nadia screaming as she cradles Jocelyn’s blood-soaked body in her arms, Sarah stabbing Caspian and also stabbing Rhett as he tries to stop her, Declan yelling and watching the whole mess as he covers Annalise’s eyes from seeing the horrors— “Stop!” I scream in tears, but Thanox refuses to end his torture. He's traumatizing me with my fears, forcing me to turn against my own mind, but I quickly tell myself that these images are just illusions. Yes. They're illusions. They're not real. They're not—

It’s not that I don’t accept what he said, because I do, and intend to go by it, but it’s the way he said it that seemed strange. It was almost like he knew Rome wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. I get better over the next few days, I can eat now, I sleep with little to no nightmares, and I can stay almost the entire day without mental ritual images plaguing me. Imagery is such a weird thing; it’s one of the things that falls under both the Curse bracket and the Blessing bracket. It’s nice when you can picture everything that is said, that you read, it’s amazing, but when you see something you probably shouldn’t have seen, and then you can’t unsee it…well, it really fucking sucks.

Something had disturbed my meditation and ripped me away from the realm of the visions. Frustration and curiosity warred within me. What had interrupted my connection? Was it a mere disturbance or a sign of something more sinister?

A rare moment of peace in my otherwise demanding life. Suddenly, a blinding flash of white light erupted in my mind, jarring me from my tranquil moment. It was a vision, stark and vivid. I suddenly saw a group of strange, unfamiliar figures, their faces hidden in shadows, infiltrating the Red Den. Their movements were swift and calculated, their purpose clear - to break someone out of his strict custody. The vision was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving me with a gnawing sense of unease.

The stress of the day had taken over Will, and he fell asleep while staring at the ceiling. The empty, white slate of the ceiling let his mind go blank. The turmoil within slipped away, melting into the nothingness as he sank into the abyss. But the restful sleep he wanted for didn’t come. Images plagued him, disconnected images that didn’t seem to mean anything on their own. Images he didn’t want, that he wouldn’t welcome if he had control of them. ***

I felt a sharp pain in my arm, then everything went black, and I lost consciousness. In my dazed state, I saw many visions of men and women coupling together. Those images and sounds made me blush with shame, and my body became restless and agitated. I desperately shook my head, trying to shake off these visions. But this only shattered those images into more fragments, each one showing a couple in intimate embrace. Those fragments burrowed into my body and turned into millions of fire insects crawling around inside me. I felt both piercing pain and maddening itching, as if I was about to explode into a pile of ash.

Candice's face grew chilly as she saw the images. Upon opening the folder, Candice's face grew cold at the sight of the photos. They depicted a man and woman in a close embrace, shrouded in dim lighting. The man's face was obscured, but the woman was clearly Candice, her expression adding to the suggestive nature of the image. Candice felt a storm of emotions as she glanced at them. Francis insinuated, "I don't recall when this was taken, but imagine if it were seen by others…"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. It was disconcerting to feel like someone else knew me better than I knew myself. He seemed to have an unfair advantage. Nathan looked puzzled. “The reason you can’t remember is because when you go into parataxic distortion, things become that—distorted. You can’t think clearly, your emotions become the sole focus, and your head gets fuzzy. Memory is skewed and off. So, even if you do remember, you won’t see it for what it was. You might see the person who offended you as monstrous, or hideous, or being out to get you, when that may not be accurate at all.” He grabbed a file from his bag.

" in Spanish.)..that sucked! So... that dream again huh?...It's been 6 long ass years since I even had that dream. I wonder if I can see even further back now? Alright…. I'll give it one try and if it works...putain oui! (She closes her eyes to concentrate and takes a long deep breath in. When she reopens her eyes she is now wearing a fierce and determined look.) Distortion! (Time freezes in place for a moment. With only Kimora seemingly capable of movement. The very world around her seems to have darkened to a black and white hue world as if drawn boldly. Kind of like a rough sketch. Every movement made leaves paintbrush-like strokes that flow behind her. Her movements look otherworldly now