Haunted By Dreams Novels & Stories

Kindly cooperate with us for further investigations. Laura broke a carefully manicured fingernail on her finger.

Hunter snarled. I yawned and drifted off. My dream was bad; I saw his face. Domus. I screamed. Even asleep, just his memory terrified me. Domus was the shadow haunting my past, the one who destroyed so much and upended my world. If he found me, everything I loved would be at risk. His name alone made my blood run cold.

My heart hammered so hard it hurt. I stumbled back to bed, clutching the sheets to my chest. My aunt’s words echoed faintly in my memory: You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Maybe I had. Maybe I was the ghost, haunting myself with things I shouldn’t want, people I shouldn’t think about... just because I gained attention. But when I finally drifted into a fragile sleep, my dreams betrayed me. Jace’s lips. Kael’s eyes. Shadows twisting together, pulling me deeper into something I couldn’t escape.

Yet sleep was elusive. Jeremy’s presence haunted her dreams - his voice, low and velvety, slipping through the shadows like a siren’s call. It spoke to something deep within her, stirring emotions tangled with fear and an inexplicable pull. His whispered words were both seductive and sinister, weaving threads of longing and confusion through the fabric of her rest.

OLIVIA'S POV NIGHTMARES- Those far-off melancholic dreams one have filled with darkness and so many other sinister things one couldn't dare mention. It had been recurring off late, these same dreams and far-off vision like flickering of the mind. I had tried understanding this particular one but clearly couldn't and to make things worse Nate was having it as well, I had awaken a fortnight again to see the aura of his dream how darkish it looked, but had since shoved it out if my mind when he had said nothing the next day.

It was so strong that anyone who hears it might think that I'm having a heart attack or my heart would burst out of its cage. Shit, what's happening to me?! And why do I keep dreaming about that tragedy even though I've buried it in the past multiple times? Out of frustration, I grabbed my forehead and roughly ruffled my hair. Damn! What's happening to me and why do I keep dreaming about that tragedy? For Pete's sake, it's been a freaking year since that tragedy happened and supposedly I've moved on, but why? Why am I still haunted by it, using my dreams? Years have passed since they died, and until now, I'm still being haunted by that tragedy through my dreams. To the point that I wake up i

The most harrowing part is that I am unable to escape this torment, even in the safety of my dreams. Upon waking up, I am immediately confronted with a lingering sense of fear and anxiety that seems to follow me relentlessly throughout the day. It's as if the haunting presence of my nightmares refuses to let go, leaving me constantly on edge and hyperaware of my surroundings. Every creak and whisper sends me into a state of heightened alertness, bordering on paranoia. Trust becomes a luxury I can't afford, and I find myself unable to let my guard down even for a single moment. The intensity of these dreams is so overwhelming that I often wake up screaming, my heart pounding in my chest, and

“How do you know?” Raven’s eyes glowed faintly with reflected aurora. “Because she’s calling for me.” --- Global Dreamspace — Nightmare Bloom Shadows rose like smoke along the horizon, their forms shifting, trembling with human fear. Nightmares made manifest. Faces twisted by guilt. Memories stained by wounds. Traumas long buried clawing their way into the shared dream. Sophia stepped forward. “No — not like this.” The nightmares surged, not malicious, but desperate — the unprocessed pain of billions seeking release all at once.

I reply, then mutter, “It’s just my responsibilities coming back to haunt me.” I shove the papers into a pile, then bend to retrieve what fell to the floor—files, envelopes, letters I’ve avoided for weeks. I’m barely sleeping, haunted by dreams. Sometimes they’re sweet—movies with Lex, late-night card games, tangled in bed. But more often, I dream of the night I hurt her. The way she looked at me. The fear. The pain. How she ran. Those dreams leave me drenched in sweat, with screams trapped in my throat. Sometimes I vomit. Every time, I wake up shattered.

"Serena" He called again wanting to be sure that this wasn't one of those dreams he woke up with screams and sweats all over his body seeing her not moving or answering his calls, seeing her with those puff eyes with tears in it he just wants to console her even if it's a dream he wouldn't want to see her in tears not now and never. He began to move wanting to stand up so he could reach out to Serena. "Fuck this hospital and it's equipment"