In My Dreams I Hold A Knife Novels & Stories

I gasped for breath, my heart pounding against my chest like a captive bird desperately seeking escape. I sat up, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and terror. The dream...the nightmare...still lingered, haunting my waking thoughts. I realized that the blade from my dream had imprinted itself onto my reality. It adorned my jacket, a sinister emblem etched into the fabric of my existence. I traced the engraving with my trembling fingers, my breath catching in my throat. It was a symbol. A constant reminder of the choices I had made, the dangerous path that I tread. The weight of my actions settled upon me like a heavy cloak.

He says with a wry grin. “In your dreams. You can keep that little fantasy to yourself. I don’t want it and I don’t want you” I state to him. I watch as something flickers in his gaze. Before I can get a true glimpse of what it is, it disappears. He moves fast as he takes something from his belt. When I see that it’s a knife in his hands fear fills me once again. I know that they have healing abilities but I don’t. One cut in the right place and its lights out to Julia forever. My breathing picks up speed as I watch him play with the knife on the tip of his finger.

Bella Pov I was dreaming but it felt so real I couldn't tell the difference. Too real. Too vivid. Too terrifying to be just my imagination. Karen stood directly over me holding a big kitchen knife in her hand. The blade was long and silver and sharp. I was lying flat on some kind of table. My hands were tied down tight with rope. I couldn't move at all no matter how hard I struggled. She smiled down at me with that same evil smile I saw when I caught her in bed with Damian. Cold and mean and victorious.

He was alive in this dream. "Juliette, what are you doing?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. His silver eyes were glazed over. Relief flooded through Juliette. "I thought I was having a dream..." she explained, advancing on Jaxon. "Where did you get that knife baby?" he asked, his voice oddly monotone. Then she realized he wasn't looking at her, but behind her. Juliette turned slowly, to see herself, holding a very sharp looking knife. Her wrists had been cut, and the knife was covered in blue blood. It dripped to the floor, as the creepy Juliette pushed past normal Juliette.

Finally…the person holding the knife was Neil instead. In her dream, Neil stared at her with an evil grin she had never seen before.

Vessa was seated in her chair and I knelt at her feet, everything just as it had been. Except that in the dream, my hands were not on her feet. In the dream, I had a blade, small and keen, suitable for the precision of close work. Vessa sat back, blood on my hands, and I knew with the unique conviction granted by dreams alone that the blood was not hers. I spoke the old words.

The air felt thicker. I started having nightmares almost every night. In my dreams Mark stood in the doorway again watching us. Only this time his face was completely blank and empty. He walked toward the bed holding a knife in his hand. The blade caught the light. I always woke up gasping for air right before the blade touched my skin. One night I woke up suddenly from another bad dream. The room was dark except for the faint glow from the hallway nightlight. I turned my head slowly on the pillow.

As he wanted to pierce the knife through Adolph's heart, I let out a scream. My heart pounded in my chest as I bolted upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. My breath came in short, rapid gasps as I tried to collect myself, realizing it was just a dream. The images lingered in my mind—the assassin, the sharp knife, and Adolph, defenseless and unaware of the impending danger.

Another nightmare. This time there was no Noah to save or calm me down after having an even worse dream than the one I had had before about Ava. This time, there was nothing paranormal as it had been before. This was as real as it could get. There had been a masked man, holding a knife over Ava’s head. He had threatened to kill her if I did not do something. That “something” was an action he claimed to have told me about before but in the dream, I couldn’t remember however much I tried to rack my brains. Because of that, he was going to kill her and all I had been able to do was scream which hadn’t helped much.

I explained. The man took a knife out of his pocket and stabbed himself. "Stark!" I yelled. I woke up from the dream, or rather, nightmare. Why the hell would I be dreaming about Stark? This is so fucked up! I think these stupid dreams would continue to repeat itself. But seriously... Love? How would I even think of that? Take less of saying it to Stark in my dream, that can never be said in the reality. I'd better go and take that bath now. All this crazy stuff is not for me to handle.