Haunted By Dreams Novels & Stories

“Mom…” And I ran—like a child lost for far too long. Their arms wrapped around me, warm and grounding. I let myself sink into them, letting the tears fall without shame. They didn’t ask questions. They just held me tighter, like they already knew my world was collapsing from the inside out. “I… I’m scared,” I whispered through sobs. “The dreams are getting worse. I can smell the blood. I can feel the cold. And every time I wake up, I feel like… I’ve lost someone I never even had the chance to save.”

I'm not healing. Dreams are dogging me. Vivid, horrible things, always the same. Me, barefoot and small, wandering through alleys with pockets full of lint, stomach gnawing itself hollow. I see the same face over and over again, blurred out, reaching. I don't know if it's a memory or something else trying to crawl in through the cracks. Doesn't matter.

The events of the past few days were starting to take a toll on me, and I know I needed to find answers soon. It was a hard night to sleep. I was haunted in my dreams by bizarre, fractured images—by forests of shadow and burning eyes and the inexorable sensation that something hunted me. I kept waking up, a little bit here and there but always with my heart pounding in my chest, the creeping terror that slid down on me whenever I remembered what had happened.

This time my sleep is plagued by nightmares and dreams alike. But I only remember one dream, that still plagues my mind when I wake up. I cry out from shock as I am pulled out of the nightmare. My whole body is trembling and I am covered in sweat, which has drenched my clothing making them stick to my body. The image still haunts me, Ash calling out my name, his hand reaching down to grab my hand as I fall. Then suddenly the dream freezes and words appear in the sky in blood red writing. ‘There coming’ then it flickers ‘were coming, be ready.’ Then suddenly I am falling again, than just before I hit the ground it blacks out. That’s when I woke up. I lie there as still as possible, too scared

Lyanna said, her voice soft but firm, “Tell me what’s going on. What exactly have these dreams been like?” I rubbed my hands over my face, exhaustion taking over as I relived the nightmare that had plagued me once again. “It’s always the same,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “I’m standing in a dark room, and Dorian’s there—his voice echoing in my mind. He keeps telling me I’ve lost everything, that my empire is falling apart. But it’s not just him. There’s something else, someone else. I don’t know who or what it is, but it feels like they’re controlling me. Watching me. Making me question everything.”

“I keep dreaming about him, Arnold. It's like he's haunting me, and I don't know how to make it stop.” Arnold's expression softens, and he reaches out to pull me into his arms, holding me close as if to shield me from the horrors of my own mind. “Don’t worry, I’m here, Hazel.” He murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “You're safe with me. Tell me about your dreams. What happened?” I take a shaky breath, steeling myself to relive the nightmare that's been haunting me for weeks now. “Two nights ago,” I begin, my voice trembling with the memory. “I dreamed that Hunter... he... he was... he was raping me.”

Without any dreams, good or bad ones. /

You told me about them and I promised to always be there for you to protect you. I knew what I was talking about, one of my biggest fears. And I had several. Sometimes I had sleep paralysis, it was horrible not being able to move you, I felt like I would be trapped. I told Jay about it, I remember well what I told him: I'm afraid of being trapped in one of my dreams...I mean, in one of my nightmares. I'm afraid of going to sleep and not waking up afterwards. I'm afraid of not knowing if I'm living a reality or if it's all a figment of my imagination. I have many fears.

It would have been fine and dandy if my dreams weren't so haunting. I find myself in a nightmare, images of Amilia dying, Ryker killing her, and me being able to do nothing to stop it. Dreams of not getting to the Manor in time, seeing her dead, losing her in every situation possible. It wakes me with a jolt, my body sweating and my chest heaving. I struggle to breathe not just because of my ribs but because of the nightmare. I clutch my chest and try to calm myself, focusing on the very much alive body next to me. She slept peacefully, unaware of the haunting imagery inside my mind.