Gorgeous Nightmare Novels & Stories

Salvatore Villa – Julian’s Bedroom Julian's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Another nightmare, his constant companion over the past twelve years, haunting his every waking moment. They all spoke the same message. Revenge. Impending danger. And the haunting past. But this time, there was something different. He saw a figure, shrouded in shadows, with a face that refused to take shape. He couldn't fathom if it's a male or female. Julian's mind recoiled from the memory, his thoughts fragmenting like shards of broken glass.

She looked around, only to realize that it was all a nightmare, one she probably would never forget. "Is everything okay?" Alessandro woke up and saw her agitated. "Yes, I only had a nightmare," Georgia responded evasively, turning over on the bed to avoid looking him in the face. At that moment, she felt uncomfortable being there next to him, sleeping naked. Doménico's words from her dreams kept repeating in her head like a bad song that she couldn't forget. "Rest, my love," a very sleepy Alessandro gave her a kiss on the left shoulder, causing her to shudder inside, not precisely because of the love she felt for him.

Her wolf struggles, her teeth elongate, glinting dangerously, while her claws extend, ready to fight. I come out of her nightmare and stumble towards the small, dimly lit bathroom tucked away in the corner of her room. With a violent heave, bile rises from the depths of my churning stomach, escaping my lips in a convulsive expulsion. The vivid, haunting images from her dream relentlessly replay in my mind, their grotesque details etched into the deepest recesses of my consciousness. I don’t consider myself a good person. I’m part demon after all, but even I am shocked by unimaginable depths of evil that now haunt me.

My body glowed faintly, my fingers steady once more and my youth renewed. This was how it worked. I don’t just stop at stealing their lives. I steal their terrors too, draining them until what’s left is only their skeleton. Their nightmares were currency, and I was rich again. “Look at you,” I whispered, watching the trembling man. “A creature so easily undone by his own mind.” I lifted my hand, and his nightmare deepened. The forest around us melted into smoke. He stood at the edge of a cliff, the whispers of his lost family calling his name. He moved toward it, his voice cracking as he begged for it to stop.

Each scream carried the weight of my powerlessness, a plea for salvation drowned in the surreal nightmare that held me captive. As the rain of blood intensified, so did my screams. The crimson drops seemed to absorb the resonance of my cries, creating a dissonant harmony that mirrored the disintegrating fabric of my own psyche. The nocturnal landscape bore witness to my agony, each scream etching a mark on the desolate canvas of my tormented dreams. Relentless torment persisted, an unyielding barrage of pleas and cries punctuating the breakdown of reality around me. In the throes of the nightmare, my screams became a haunting melody of despair, a soulful lament that seemed to merge with the

Looks like I exhausted him, last night. I turned around in bed, to stare at this beautiful hunk of a man, running my fingers over a scar on his shoulder. I couldn't ever emphasize enough on how good he usually looks, when he's peacefully sleeping. An angry mumbling of words may leave his lips every now and then, but I still found him beautiful to look at. Can monsters look this good? Guess I'll never know.

She was never going to surrender to him; he bought her, but he couldn't buy her life. She was going to make sure she made his life a living nightmare. She was going to make him regret ever buying her and let her go. Yes, he was going to release her himself when he got tired of her. She grinned; he didn't know what he bought. He had just purchased a nightmare, and that nightmare was hers.

She stood before me, wearing nothing but a flimsy red nightie that barely hid anything, her curves emphasized by the delicate fabric. I gulped, trying to regain control over my emotions as they threatened to overwhelm me. She shifted from one foot to another, her movements captivating, and my gaze followed her every gesture, unable to tear away. I couldn't help but notice how her breasts strained against the fabric of her nightie, her nipples hardened, a clear indication of her arousal. My body responded instinctively, blood rushing to my cock as desire coursed through me. My eyes traveled down her body, noting the lack of anything underneath her nightie. A low growl escaped my throat as my

He just kept grinning, that creepy grin, and reached into the bag. He pulled out a black gown. Unraveled it. My jaw dropped. It was strapless. A black, strapless mini dress. With gems. Pretty? Yes. But how the hell was I supposed to wear this?!

Even as my control grows, the nightmares follow. I dream of Rhea again, but she’s not herself. She stands at the top of a mountain of ash, wearing a crown that... bleeds. Her eyes are molten gold, and her mouth is set in a smile I’ve never seen on her before. It's cold, divine and unreachable. Around her, the world burns. Wolves howl in agony. The skies scream. I try to reach her but she lifts her hand, and my storm dies in the air. I wake up gasping.