Hallucinations Novels & Stories

It had been a week. And their plan—cold, calculated, inhumane—was working. The medication laced into her system had done more than sedate her. It blurred the edges of time, pulling her into hallucinations stitched from trauma and shadows. She saw things that never happened. Heard voices that whispered lies in familiar tones. Faces from the past flickered before her eyes, only to vanish like smoke. And when she spoke, it was to people long gone. Kai gave the daily reports, short and clinical. “She’s deteriorating. Fast. The hallucinations are getting worse.”

So, Hellfire was not the cause. The second was called Shadecap. This was a type of fungus that could induce hallucinations and madness, potentially leading to self-harm or violence. Before such effects occurred, the person would display symptoms like crying or laughing uncontrollably and moving erratically. Shadecap wouldn't give someone enough strength to kill twelve people. The third was Soulgrip Threadworm. Also known as a parasitic worm, the parasite would enter the brain and allow another person to control their actions, although the controlled individual would retain memories of the event.

The images in my head just kept coming, people, places, deaths, ceremonies, marriages, burials, everything that I was supposed to know and finally in the end it was my own memories that hurt the most. “We’re almost there, just hang on a little longer,” he said. I registered his words but I couldn’t answer him. I had immense pain, probably infection from all the bullet wounds, fever or delirium because the hallucinations playing off in my mind couldn’t possibly be real. The memories couldn’t be mine.

he asked. “Fuck,” Cain whispered under his breath, “Right, so the glowing things we stare at for too long cause hallucinations. You start seeing and hearing things, most times the things you see or hear may or may not be…” he hesitated, his eyes ridden with guilt. “May not be what, Cain?” I bellowed, struggling to process what the voice had said to me. “May not be false. Some say they are visions, some omens.” Malric shook his head, “And you didn’t think it was wise to give us a fucking headstart before we walked in here. Typical.” He snorted and looked at me with concern, “what did you hear?”

Leave it alone, or we’ll bury more than just numbers. I read the message twice, then a third time. My fingers didn’t tremble, not exactly. They just felt... distant. Like I’d dipped them in a river too long and forgotten what warmth felt like. My first thought wasn’t fear. It was clinical. Okay. That’s a new one. Hallucinated messages. Not uncommon. Delusional content, paranoia. Add it to the list. I pressed a hand to my forehead and exhaled slowly. I’d skipped a dose this morning, hadn’t I? Or maybe I hadn’t eaten enough. Maybe the coffee was too strong. The usual culprits.

I turned slowly, making myself look properly worried. “Alpha, severe sleep deprivation can cause olfactory hallucinations,” I said gently. “It’s quite common with extreme stress.” Please believe it. Please let this explanation be enough. Ulysses rubbed his temples, looking suddenly older. “Hallucinations?” “Phantom scents, sounds, even touches. Your brain is trying to fill gaps when it’s not getting proper rest. Nothing alarming—just your mind telling you it needs recovery.” He looked at me with something like gratitude.

“I can’t believe you’re saying that. That I’m seeing things. I’m not mad, Kael. I know what I saw.” “I don’t think you’re mad,” he said gently. “I just want you to know that one of the documented side effects of the medication, the one that stabilizes your condition and is supposed to help you regain your memory, is vivid hallucination especially under stress. Maybe that’s what happened.” I searched his face and his expression was genuine so my knees suddenly felt weak as I sank onto the edge of the bed. “Could all those things possibly have been my imagination?” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “Am I… really losing my mind?”

No one dared ask a single question. Liesa suddenly felt heat crawling through her body. She recognized the feeling instantly. She thought, If she didn’t get out soon, the hallucinations would only worsen. And then—death would come faster. She let out a weak breath, her vision starting to blur. She thought,

I drifted off, my mind heavy and drifting, only to be yanked back into awareness by that familiar, static-filled vibration. Don’t panic, I told myself. Just wait for the jolt. I was lying on my back, eyes wide open, staring at the dark ceiling. I couldn't move a muscle. My hands were anchored to the mattress, my eyelids frozen in a fixed stare. And then, the hallucination began. It didn't start with the usual shadow man. It started with a tickle. A sensation of frantic, tiny movements at the edge of my lips. At first, I dismissed it as an itch, a common neurological misfire during paralysis. But the feeling intensified. It wasn't an itch; it was a swarm.

I dried my tears with the back of my palm. "Can you tell me what exactly is going on?" She asked me in a gentle tone. "I don't know, everything was fine this morning and now I keep hallucinating? I can't tell what the margin is between what's supposed to be real versus what's a dream and I-" I trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Alright," she said and pro ended to run some tests. After a long devastating while of silence, she sighed, "I think the hallucinations are due to stress, and your body is heavily trying to find ways to recover after losing your baby, Luna, what you need is quality rest and a wave of fresh thoughts from whatever is bothering you."