Dreamscape Book Novels & Stories

she screamed again and dash towards right but he grab her arm tight still her in place. ......... Finally after lot of struggles he made her sit and tell the tale of truth like it's nothing. Everything is too hard too digest for her as not for once her mouth stay closed. It's open throughout the talk. She can't believe that the books she used to read anything like that can happen with her too. But fantasy Are nothing but a rare reality which happen with one in billions and that's why it's always be unrealistic and abnormal. So you are saying you are the angel and that golden eye man I saw in my dreams is the demon who wants my soul to open dream door cause I'm the only key of it" , I asked g

My mind may shift uncontrollably and I may lose control of my consciousness sometimes. But my mind wasn't fogged. Even though everything else was fucked. I need to figure out why. I picked up the heavy book, wiping off the thin layer of dust that remained on the cover. Ashes Of The Sacred Bond: The Extinction Of Mates. This thing. Everything with Dane. The possessiveness. The intense need for him. Burning arousal. Needing him alone even in my drugged state. "The unexplainable attraction. A mate pull or a coincidence."

The moment she crosses the threshold and her feet met the cool, welcoming touch of her bedroom floor, she allows herself to sink onto her bed, the cushions yielding to her weight. With a deep sense of purpose, she extends her hand towards the book nestled on her bed, cradling it tenderly. Astrid could scarcely contain her curiosity, her fingers quivering with the exhilaration of the adventure awaiting her. As she opened the book, she was instantly transported into a world as captivating as the printed pages itself, where words spun tales of Supernatural beings beyond her wildest imagination. The book unveiled a hidden realm, one inhabited by nine extraordinary entities, each with its own uni

she even commented it on me, as she clarified herself on what she wanted from me now. “As what could you see, I was reading a book seriously earlier, and you all of a sudden emerge from nowhere. How can you tell I am in depth of my thoughts?” I presented the book to my face again, even though I wasn’t really reading it actually. In reality, I was thinking about my dream last night and bothered owing to the fact that it seemed to be really true. I don’t know. I just find it weird in the first place. Why would I be dreaming such nonsense dream in the first place? When in reality, Dralia is mine and mine alone. No one can have her except me. And no one can keep her away from me instead. I would

She made a mental note to check the side effects of the medication she took and drifted peacefully off to sleep. Her body felt weightless. The dark room around her gradually receded and she was floating amidst wisps of clouds. She felt a tug on her shoulders, as if someone was pulling her down. She resisted, briefly, before giving way the motion. As she drifted downward, her surroundings grew more visible. Beautiful lakes of an indescribable bluish-green glistened while reflecting the shapes and colors from the leaves on the trees. On the water’s edge, stood a cloaked man. His cloak glistened with fine strands of gold and silver. They added to, instead of masked, the base color of b

The council murmured, their attention fixed on the subtle aurora-like glow threading through the chamber. --- Global Dreamscape — Sophia’s Perspective Sophia moved through dreamscapes made of fragments: sunlight on ocean waves, the scent of pine forests after rain, the laughter of children she had never met, the sighs of lovers in hidden rooms. Each memory, each feeling, became a note in the symphony. She felt the fears too: isolation in a Mumbai slum, grief in a Parisian apartment, rage in a Chicago street. They surged toward her, raw and unfiltered. Yet even these chaotic threads, when touched by the resonance, softened, integrated, transformed into understanding.

You can return anything to any of the other libraries. Once Sally was outside, she opened the book. Flashes of images starting running through her mind like a video on fast forward. Only these were images of the scrolls and certain symbols stood out to her. She was vaguely aware of her team trying to reach her, but it was like the book stole their speed. They were moving slower than in slow motion. The book was giving her the answers she needed and when it was done, she fell to the pavement and started to scream. Her head was pounding worse than a migraine.

He opened the book and flicked through the pages until he reached his previous spot and stared at the blurry lines. No matter how hard he tried to focus his attention on the words in front of him, all he saw was remnants of his dream flicker like echoes across his eyes. The dream had started peacefully, as dreams always do. It was like imagining that you were looking at a painting from Picasso, taking in all of the abstract colours and designs, the melting clocks hanging on spindly branches and so on. But then the clocks are morphing into sunflowers and you suddenly realise you're looking at a Van Gogh painting instead. Only the Van Gogh painting is actually a terrifying monster, intent to c

Everything else was decoration. I had already read through all of the new books Nala had bought me. Every single one. Earlier that afternoon I had finished a romance novel with a Stockholm syndrome trope that had left a strange, sour taste in my mouth. The heroine had fallen for her captor in a slow, inevitable spiral that the author framed as destiny. It had felt like a fairytale version of the nightmare I was currently living. Clean. Romantic. Resolved by the final chapter with declarations and soft lighting. Reality did not work like that.

My eyes dropped on the pages of the book I was holding while he rambled, “That’s not exactly a good starting point, I thought. Then it mentioned that they also have somewhat magical abilities themselves.” “Astral projection, divine clairvoyance, spell enchantments, lucid dreaming…” he enumerated then looked at me directly before uttering in emphasis, “Dreamwalking.” I paused at the last mention. “Sounds familiar, yeah?” He gave me a lazy smile. I nodded right away. My heart was racing at the gut feel. This might just be it! I skimmed through the words of the page where the book was opened at, then I read out loud the name of the group of people he is referring to—