Little Nightmare 2 Novels & Stories

He just didn't want to see it. Now, on the forty-first night, the nightmare is worse than ever. His face is turning pale. His lips are blue. In his dream, he is drowning. I can feel it—the terror radiating from his small body like heat from a furnace. His heartbeat is a drum. His breath is a thread about to snap. I want to help him. I want to wake him up. I want to flip him over. But the blanket is pulled tight. And the rule is absolute.

I jolted awake, trembling violently as cold sweat clung to my skin. A nightmare. Only a nightmare… though Hazel remained strangely restless beneath my skin. Suddenly, the door pushed open and Dominic crossed the room in seconds, concern darkening his expression. He was beside me before I could steady my breathing, his hand closing around mine. "Are you hurt, Natalia?" "I heard you from the room beside yours.” I turned my gaze to him as I regained my composure. "I–I'm fine. It was just a nightmare," I said, brushing away strands of hair from my face.

Amelia slid under the heavy duvet on the left side, pulling the blankets up to her chin. I turned off the bedside lamp and laid down on the right side. The darkness usually brought me peace, yet tonight it only gave my brain too much space to think. I closed my eyes and tried to force my mind to shut down. The physical exhaustion eventually dragged me under, pulling me into a deep, restless sleep. The nightmares started almost the second I lost consciousness. I was no longer lying in my comfortable bed. I was standing on the cold concrete driveway of my childhood home, watching the rival crew raise their weapons toward my parents. The harsh crack of gunfire echoed in my ears.

Liora's POV The nightmares started three nights after the training room attack. At first, they were quiet — soft whimpers in the dark, Alora tossing and turning in her sleep. But by the fourth night, they had become full-blown terrors that tore through the silence of the mansion like shattered glass. “Mommy! No! Don’t take me!” Her scream ripped through the room at 2:47 AM. I bolted upright, heart exploding in my chest, and pulled her into my arms before she could thrash herself off the bed.

There were faint dark circles under his eyes, and there was a probing look in the way he watched me. "Did you sleep okay last night?" he asked. I yawned and rubbed my eyes. "Not really. I had a nightmare." "What did you dream about?" I looked at him, my eyes wide, innocent, and confused. "I dreamed about your brother, but it felt like he actually came by and kissed me." "Dante's" body went rigid, and his eyes behind his glasses narrowed sharply. "Are you sure it was a dream?" "I guess…" I said, sounding uncertain. "It just felt so real. He reeked of alcohol."

A lullaby hums in a voice not your own Sung from the mouths of the buried and dead A faceless thing grins in the wide doorway Stretching its arms, your escort inside Your name is etched on a tomb with no grave A jagged whisperer, an icy brace Your heart beats loud, but not for long Run, run, but your feet won't move The darkness wraps its chains around you I said grin forms in the blackest shade Time runs out, and so will your veins The bells don't toll; the clocks don't chime Only the sound of the end of time Your Shadow melts your hands turn cold The nightmare sings as it takes hold I'm sorry to say, but this is the end Your breath is stolen; no need to pretend A door creaks open; the void

The nightmare was worse than usual. It wasn't just fragments this time; it was a full, suffocating reel. The dusty carpet smell, the crushing weight, the paralyzing fear—it was so vivid he woke up choking on a scream, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The digital clock on his bedside table glowed a merciless 2:17 AM.

Love and fear coexisted, stronger than death’s decree, a fight that must continue, whether by choice or fate. Meanwhile… Lila jolted awake, her scream shattering the night’s stillness. Sweat-drenched sheets twisted around her legs as she kicked them free, gasping for air in the pitch-black room, save for the faint crimson glow seeping from the nightstand drawer. Repairs had been made to keep it shut—a defense against the nightmares it held. The visions felt too real, as past and future collided into a single nightmarish timeline that unraveled her reality.

Then Liam towered above, eyes aflame, his hand swinging down to shatter my jaw. I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, my heart thundering like a storm. The room was murky, the torch's light leaping erratically. I lay there, panting, the nightmare's grip still embedded deep—my children's wails, Liam's fury. I couldn't shake it off, each labored breath a torment. A soft rap at the door startled me, my pulse skyrocketing. What the hell was this, right in the dead of night?

I entered into the house thinking nothing of it to be met with a blow to the head. Everything went dark. Consciousness would drift in and out as I could feel myself being kicked and punched. There seemed to be two people. Both were dressed in all black from head to toe. And it was dark. I couldn’t see much more than an outline. I could hear voices. There was…. A woman…. And a man. I think I recognized the voices… where did I know the voices from? Hit to the stomach and I instinctively covered my growing belly and fought. Grabbing the leg of the person. I heard an umph and bang as the person was not expecting it. I could tell they fell. I was going to fight. I was going to save my baby.