Little Nightmares Six Fanart Novels & Stories

Jess sat up right and once more it was pitch black, that’s when jess understood what this was. “My nightmares.” Jess whispered, her voiced echoed in the darkness, but it was as if Jess had just said the key for everything to explode. Every single one of her bad memories, jumped out of the dark, young Jess sitting with her dead mother, trying to clean her wound, hoping she will wake up if Jess just keeps pressure on it. Her Father chasing her, beating her, screaming at her. Her beast tormenting her once again. All the Jess’s, the young ones or the older ones, each one of them that cried out in pain as they were being cut, burned or beaten, each Jess that was ever told how she should just die,

Valerie said as she shuddered. "Yeah. Well, let me get back out there while these are cooking. Don't worry, Val, I'll be careful if that guy comes back in here." "Alright, girl. I'll talk to you later." Tabitha wasn’t going to tell Valerie about the dreams involving Mark. Those were the real nightmares. They had evolved from just him raping her after being with the man she couldn’t see. There were several where he forced himself on her. She shuddered as she thought about those. That was part of her past that she didn’t care to remember.

LENA'S POV Three days before the Blood Moon, the nightmares started. Nightmares that felt like memories. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw fire, forest burning and dead wolves. I saw ancient stone ruins covered in blood and standing in the middle of it all was a woman with crimson eyes. She had my face, my hair and my eyes. The same woman from the six-hundred-year-old drawing. She never spoke a word, only watching me with those keen crimson eyes.

They kissed themselves to sleep. It wasn't even bright out yet. When June shot up from another horrible nightmare featuring Late Alpha Gorah Timbers of the rogue pack. She was covered in sweat, heart racing wildly. Her sudden gasp had awoken her mate beside her. He watched her with concern. "Another nightmare?" He asked huskily. She nodded frantically as he sat up and held her. "Calm down, it's fine now." He stroked her back in an effort to soothe her.

Make him know what it feels like to be bitter, and when she's done, he's going to wish he was never born. His name is Rory John Gate and she's going to be his nightmare." She finishes speaking and finally looks over at the little girl and she is already asleep and she gets up and lays a soft kiss on her head and cover her up with the bedsheets, before walking out of the room. Authors message: Hello and welcome to the sequel of Little Nerdy Nightmare I hope you really like the beginning, if you did, leave a review. Love you guys

I pushed it open silently and entered. It was everything I had expected. The exact opposite of my room. The themes here were black and grey. Black furniture, grey walls, grey and white beddings. The air conditioning was off, but it was so damn cold in here, the air so tight I could hardly breathe. Or it was just the fact that I knew my presence here was wrong. It was much bigger than my room, obviously. And I liked it. I was someone who suffered from nightmares, but paradoxically, the darkness here, was calming.

Mom glances over at me with a curious look and then states, "Breakfast will be ready in a minute. I threw some cinnamon rolls in the oven and they still have a minute or two before they are brown." Smiling, I reply, "Oh, that sounds yummy mom. Thanks." Sitting down at the table, I wait patiently as I drink my orange juice. Mom glances over at me again and asks, "Did you have anymore nightmares last night?" "Yes, I don't know what is going on. Ever since Billie gave me Charlie, I have been having this same bad dream over and over. It is so real that I peed the bed, I'm sorry."

Weeping to fatigue Naitee dose off into deep slumber full of crazy nightmares. . . . . . . . . . . . .

It’s like a dream. Unfortunately the dreams I’ve been having recently aren’t as nice as my life currently. I’ve been having nightmares. Mostly about my previous pack. Or my brother. Or just memories of my parents that make me break down. Dylan hold me and strokes my hair and tells me I will be ok, he doesn’t care that my dreams break me, he understands. The worst one is the one I had last night... FLASHBACK Little 6 year old me was running around in the living room chasing our cat Chester. “Raven stop that would you and come give your daddy a hug!” My fathers loud, booming voice filled the room.

My hands steadied slightly, the sketch settling flat on the table, my fingers brushing its edge. “She grew fast—too fast,” I said, my voice dropping, my gaze drifting past them, lost in the years. “By five, she was taller than me, stronger, wilder. Ma thought it was just her spirit, but Pa saw something off with the way her eyes glowed sometimes, gold, when she got mad. We didn’t know what it meant, not then. She hit sixteen, and the nightmares started, she was screaming in her sleep, thrashing, waking up soaked, saying she saw wolves and blood in fields she didn’t know. Ma freaked, dragged her to shrinks, therapists from city ones to country ones. Pills, sessions, nothing stopped it.”