Gorgeous Nightmare Novels & Stories

Her thoughts drifted into the treacherous realm of her own nightmares, which had morphed into a nightmarish ordeal of their own. These dreams were insidiously becoming more vivid, more nightmarish, as though the universe had conspired to transform her nights into an unending reel of terror. Each night, it was the same haunting scenario that played out with relentless persistence: the pleading eyes of an unknown figure, the thunderous echo of gunshots that tore through her consciousness, and the paralyzing sense of despair that gripped her very soul. These nocturnal horrors had become a prisoner of her mind, relentlessly ransacking her peace.

His breath moved to her neck and she felt him place a slight kiss there. She turned towards him and looked into his eyes. They were full of lust and what looked like excitement. His hands slid around her and he cupped her ass as she slid her hands up and around his neck. She felt his hair touch her hands. She pulled back enough to really look at him. She was shocked to see the shoulder-length blonde hair. Maybe her dreams really were about Kevin. Was this her mind’s way of showing her what he had been to her? "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jolie POV I wake up screaming. Again. My throat burns raw and my sheets are soaked with sweat. The nightmare clings to me—Thorne's hands reaching for me, Gio's cold smile as he counts money, the sound of pack wolves howling for my blood. "Just a dream," I whisper to the darkness, my voice cracking. "Just a dream." But my body doesn't believe it. My heart hammers against my ribs and I can't stop shaking. These nightmares are getting worse, coming every night now like some twisted routine. I press my face into my pillow, trying to muffle the sobs that won't stop coming.

No, a puzzle, but somehow a clue, that goes like this. "Don’t you remember those happy voices in your mind as you sleep? Or maybe the screams you hear of terror in a nightmare. What is a nightmare? Isn’t a nightmare a small prison you’re trapped in, with no hopes of waking? Why? Because you never know you’re asleep. You forget everything, your name, your life, and who you are. The only thing to accompany you are the monsters that laugh in your mind, that taunt you, knowing everything. Your life, your happiness, everything that had been stolen away. But the scariest part of the nightmare won’t be the monsters. They aren’t scary themselves. The most fearful thing of all is that they are yours.

“Please, stop looking like her.” Nyxara tilts her head, studying me with my mother’s face. “But it’s always worked before.” Rage flares hot and bright in my chest. “Not this time.” Something ugly flashes in her eyes. The air snaps. Nyxara lifts one delicate finger and flicks it downward. The arena answers. The floor splits open with a wet, tearing sound, and the darkness beneath it moves. Nightmares crawl up through the cracks, dozens of them, hundreds, dragging themselves into the light like puppets yanked forward by invisible strings.

I woke up with a jolt from a weird nightmare. My forehead covered in beaded sweat and my armpits tingly from the sensation of the nightmare. My heart was beating fast and my head was pounding loudly with a headache. In the nightmare I had, there was a strange person who told me I would get a second chance. I couldn't see the face or the structure but I heard the beautiful and charming voice. The cold and vicious eyes of Leo from my nightmare still haunt me as I leave my bed. I looked around and noticed I was in my room. Few minutes ago, I thought I had died.

Aurora’s POV And just like Alexis had promised, the nightmare expert was brought in and she was different from all of my expectation. The Nightmare expert was a tall skinny looking woman who seemed old and young at the same time making it hard for me t know how old she truly was Her face- the left side was covered in three medium size circles of tattos, and her eyes had the smokiest eyeshadow above them. She wore a floral chiffon kimono over a blue denim and white singlet. Her wild brown hair stood in all directions, her skin was as dark as her eyes and her hands and neck were adorned with weird-looking pieces of beads and she scared me.

His eyes rolled back, and he fell into a deep, immediate sleep. In his nightmare, he stood in an endless void. On each finger of his outstretched hands, he balanced a glowing orb. Each orb contained a swirling galaxy, teeming with life. As he watched, horrified and mesmerized, one orb slipped from his grasp. It didn’t fall; it unmade. The galaxy within winked out of existence without a sound, as if it had never been. A profound, cosmic grief filled him.

Alpha Ortega Damon I sprang up on the bed panting heavily, beads of sweat trickling down my forehead. I look at the time and saw it was 12:30 am which means I have only slept for thirty minutes before having this nightmare I growled in anger and climbed down from the bed. I walked to my window and stood with my two hands crossed behind my back. This nightmare has been haunting me for the past twenty-six years. I never had a good sleep for twenty-six years, my past haunts me like a prey

A nightmare love story told a thousand different ways. I closed my eyes, trying to shift past my instinctual disgust. It bothered me more than I could say that I did actually like it. That there was an uncanny beauty to it, even below the vague nausea of my initial reaction. Unseelie beauty meant disorder and imbalance. But there was a grotesque and gorgeous fascination to it—rotten and tragic and difficult. My phone jostled on the sheets beside my knee, and I glanced down at a text from a number I didn't know: