Little Nightmares Chapter 3 Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 51: SHE'S NERVOUS. NOAH'S POV The nightmare comes again, the same relentless images that chase me through the dark. I wake up with a start, breath heaving, sweat clinging to my skin. I guess my plans to move in might have brought it back again.

The next day David woke up early since it was Saturday he had nowhere to go. He He decided to go and check up on Stella and admit his feelings for her. He decided to stop being a coward and take responsibility for her pregnancy. He was ready to do anything for her to forgive him and give him a second chance. He went to her door and was about to knock when he heard her talking but this time it seems like her constant nightmare she always tell him about. He opened the door and went inside and Tru to his thought she was having a nightmare. He walked up to her on the bed and woke her up cuddling her. "Is okay baby. I'm here don't be scared." He started coaxing her when she started crying. "David

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.

It's been so long since I've experience nightmares, I guess I've been stressed lately. Whatever, I must sleep. END OF CHAPTER 12

Chapter 41: Whispers in the Dreaming Night had settled with a silence that was almost suffocating. The village slept unaware, wrapped in mundane fears of hunger, cold, and superstition, oblivious to the storm that stirred beyond mortal comprehension. But in the clearing, the three children did not sleep. Not fully. Shadows slithered over their minds, subtle at first, brushing their senses, whispering, prodding.

I jumped onto the bed, pulling the blankets around me, and closed my eyes. Sleep came easily, and with it, the dreams. Vivid, strange dreams that danced through my mind like fragments of a forgotten story. Faces I couldn’t quite recognize, voices that seemed familiar yet distant. I dreamed of Chloe, of her tear-streaked face and the fear that gripped her. I dreamed of Chris, of his lifeless body on the ground, the blood pooling around him. And I dreamed of the message Chloe had received, the one that had terrified her so much.

Hunter howled in answer, the sound trapped behind my teeth. --- On the third night, the dreams started. Lilac standing in a glowing pool, her skin kissed by mist, her smile brighter than the moon. "Come home," I begged. But she turned away. I woke with blood on my tongue from biting back screams. 'She is fading... I can't sense her...' Hunter howled in my head. The healers whispered when they thought I couldn't hear. "The babe won't make it." "She may never wake." "The king's gone mad."

62 Alex I couldn’t sleep again that night. I tried—God knows I tried—but every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Liam, bleeding out in that alley, his lifeless eyes staring into mine. The nightmare had shaken me to my core, leaving me drenched in sweat, my heart hammering in my chest. The room was dark and still, but my mind raced with fragments of the message, the nightmare, and the growing sense that something was horribly wrong. "I’ll strike again, and next time, nobody will help you."

I was so tired. I had been getting nightmares of the kidnapping. I had woken up three times last night after being grabbed or stuffed away in the basement again with no hope of Ben coming for me this time. After the third time, it had been close enough to the time I woke up that I hadn’t gone back to sleep. I’d been too scared.

BOOK 3: CHAPTER 92 -ELAINE- My fucking Nightmare,Jac, is here. I wanted to believe I was dreaming. My chest was tight, my lungs frozen, the blood in my body cold and still. I stood rooted to the floor like the tiles sprouted thorns to hold me down. There he was, flesh and bone, casually stepping through the front door like he had a key, like he belonged, like the past hadn’t swallowed him whole and buried him in a grave I’d carved out with trembling hands and tear-stained prayers.