In My Dreams I Hold A Knife Novels & Stories

She hadn't come in yet, possibly because she was still fuming about her altercation with Cedric. As is customary for me, my nightmares were filled with violence and cutting claws. A glint of silver pierced through the darkness, tearing it apart as if it were nothing more than cloth. It seemed like my hand was clenching around the hilt of some sort of knife, or was it a dagger? A pair of green eyes pierced my peripheral vision. The knife sunk into the skin, cleaving it away from the bone as it went through. My chest, my heart, and my intellect were all filled with a searing ache... When I awoke, the dreams had vanished as swiftly as they had appeared, and I couldn't remember what had happened

I kept asking myself glancing round the house in a quick manner as if looking for a lost object. My heart began to pound again as I remember the dream, no not just a dream, something more real than real. In the dream, Luna Victoria was there, her eyes burning with sadness and anger and she held a shining sword, its edge sharp enough to cut through silence. She looked straight at me, no word, no mercy, I saw the sword rise high above me and as she brought down, that was when I woke up. Immediately when I recalled this dream I pulled myself out of my room. It was sharp and bitter, floating in the air like smoke from a drying fire.

One of them holds a knife to her throat. "You brought this on yourself," he says. "Your kind should have stayed hidden." She looks right at me, even though I'm hidden in the trees. "Tell him," she says. "Tell him I never wanted this." "Tell who?" I try to shout, but my voice comes out as a whisper. "Tell him I'm sorry." The knife moves, and I wake up with her blood on my hands. The third night is the worst of all. In this dream, I'm not in the forest. I'm in my own bedroom, but it's wrong. The walls are covered in symbols I don't understand, and the air smells like copper and fear.

I came here with a goal in mind, but now I'm acting like a teenager who doesn't know what she wants but won't give up until she gets something. I let out a breath, and in my right hand, I grip the knife I snatched from the kitchen. I clasp the hilt with both hands and remind myself that I will do whatever it takes to get out of here. As I'm about to plunge the blade into his chest, I feel something poking my stomach; I look down and notice the nuzzle of the gun pressed against me. I could have sworn he was sound asleep. The monster's eyes are still closed, and aside from the weapon pressing against my stomach, I wouldn't suspect that he's actually awake.

He said looking at her. He held her hand on his cheek and kissed the inside of her palm. With his other hand, he pulled back her hair behind her ear. “Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked him softly. “I saw you die in my dream. I was holding a gun at you.” He closed his eyes painfully remembering the dream, “you were already tied to a pillar. You were badly wounded like someone had tortured you. When I looked down I... I saw a knife in my hand with blood on it. I realized that I was the one who tortured you. I started to move towards a table and grabbed a gun. Then I walked towards you and pointed it at you. I wanted to stop myself but I had no control over my body.”

He didn't move, I tried to but he locked me still with his hips against mine. He gripped my neck tightening his fingers around its neck and his lust-glazed eyes held mine as we stared at each other, "What happened in your dream last night?" "Nothing." I breathed and his hands left my neck immediately moving to his pockets in the twinkle of an eye, he fished out my penknife pressing it against my neck.

“To save yourself. Not to kill for the sake of killing.” I can’t stop the tears running down my face. Fernandez starts pounding his head against the countertop like the insane animal he is. I want to cut out his eyes, which are staring at me. I want to remove his dick and balls while he’s still breathing. I want to go to sleep and not wake up until this nightmare is over. Moon releases me and hands me his knife. My fingers are trembling so hard it’s difficult to take it. The knife feels good in my hand, though. Fernandez’s blood on the blade holds my attention. I can do this, I think to myself. I will do this.

“When you were in your coma, did you see anything?” As Edrick asked me this question, my eyes widened. I didn’t want to mention it to him — I thought that it was just a bad dream caused by stress, and that I would forget it. But I still remembered it so vividly, and it seemed as though this knife that I drew was completely connected to the dream. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. Finally, I nodded and decided to tell Edrick everything. I told him about my dream, about Michael and the knife. When I was finally finished, his steely gray eyes were wider than I had ever seen them before, and his face was as white as a sheet.

It ended in a room with no windows. "I want to go home," I murmur, my cheek pressed against the rough concrete. "Dad... Mum... please..." The darkness sweeps over me, pulling me down into a restless, feverish sleep. I don't know how long I sleep. I dream of the knife. In the dream, the knife is the size of a sword. César is holding it. He isn't angry. He's smiling. He tells me he's doing this for my own good. He cuts me open, piece by piece, looking for something inside me.

I dream of two little girls playing in a deserted house, no parents to feed them or bathe them, or give them the simple touch of a parent's love. I feel someone in my room before I see them. My hand slowly goes underneath my pillow to grab the small pocketknife I've kept there since I was ten years old, and as soon as the person touches the comforter, I lift the knife to stab anywhere that I can. but a strong hand grips my wrist and then the room is flooded with light from the bedlamp. "What the fuck?" Alessandro hisses down at me before letting my wrist go. "Oh, it's you." I release the breath I was holding. "You can't creep up on a girl like that."