Novel & Cerita Gorgeous Nightmare Escape The Fate

I nodded, trying to steady my voice. “Last night was Halloween. Our boss, William Zoo, booked out a rural horror-themed escape room. He said anyone who made it through without screaming would get ten thousand. “There were nine of us. After we went in…” I went through everything—the layout, mechanisms, and performance of the scarecrow character with the oversized pumpkin head. He didn’t move, just listened in silence. “You said the pumpkin-headed character chased you with a chainsaw?” “Yes. It was incredibly loud, just this constant buzzing.”

The sound cracked through the hall like thunder. Smoke exploded everywhere—thick, choking, blinding. “Catherine!” Jordan shouted. Chaos erupted. People screamed. Chairs scraped. Someone knocked into me. I heard running footsteps—fast, deliberate. Denzel was escaping. “Seal the exits!” Kenan roared. But it was too late. The smoke began to clear some minutes later. Slowly. Painfully. When my vision returned… Denzel was gone. Giselle was gone. The guards cursed.

Something colder. He moved with deliberate speed toward the far wall, where a massive hatch waited—steel jaws pried open to reveal nothing but dark water beyond. It was no simple exit. It was an escape route into the deep, carved for someone who had always planned to vanish this way. Savannah’s palm pressed flat against the cold, slick glass. The chill seeped into her skin, down into her bones. All the years, all the blood, all the nights of dread—they narrowed into this one image: the man who had spun their nightmares into existence, leaving without chains, without defeat. Not even in haste.

But Damian was relentless, his eyes burning with desire, and there was no escaping it. Her mind raced, searching for an escape, any way out of this nightmare. But she knew, deep down, there was no way out. She was trapped. In a sudden burst of panic, she kicked her leg up, her heel connecting with the soft flesh between his legs. Damian let out a gasp of surprise, and for a moment, he stumbled back, loosening his grip on her. The brief moment of freedom was all Aurora needed. She scrambled off the bed, her heart pounding in her chest as adrenaline surged through her veins.

“Not yet.” He pressed a button on his wrist. An explosion shook the building. Self-destruct. Fiona’s eyes widened. “He’s bringing this place down.” Greaves smirked. “If I go down, you all go down with me.” --- The Escape Alarms blared. The facility was collapsing. “We have to move!” Bella shouted. They ran as the walls cracked around them. Greaves tried to slip away— But Fiona grabbed him. “You don’t get to escape.” He struggled. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

Clearly, I am in a nightmare, and it is all because of that stinking movie. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and decide that I am going to walk out of the bathroom and wake myself up before this dream has a bad ending and I end up dead. However, once I open the door, a sudden gust of wind hits me, and I fly backwards as the tornado rips through the apartment building, and everything is decimated in its path. A few days later, I wake up and feel so much better till I look around and realize that I am lying in the bathtub of the apartment and my foot has been severed.

When Adela knocks on the door to announce dinner is ready, I tell her I’m not hungry. Unlike Mack, she doesn’t go away until I agree to join her at the dining table. But the moment I’ve cleared my plate, I return to the bedroom. During the night, I wake with my heart in my throat, the visions from my nightmare still clinging to me. In my dreams, it isn’t Shane whimpering on the ground, the victim of my strange gift, but Mack.

No longer the ruined coliseum. This was the Nightmare. And it had claimed them all. ☠️ End of Chapter 12

Escaping is impossible. "May this nightmare pass as soon as possible." Tears flow down from Kevin's closed eyes. Only hoping is left in his hands. This nightmare has to pass!!! By any means!

Others glide without feet, faces frozen in expressions of endless terror. One turns toward me. Its face is a screaming man I recognize. A former contestant. Another wears the shape of a child, eyes too large, mouth unhinged in a silent sob. Another crawls across the ceiling, limbs scraping stone, its head rotating fully around to track my movement. Nyxara’s magic is no longer contained. It’s leaking, bleeding into the castle, into the Game, into everything. These nightmares don’t just belong to the mortal, no, they belong to her too. She has lost control.