Little Nightmares Teacher Novels & Stories

Mom and Dad will come to me and let me sleep in their room. Yuan said that I should not be afraid of Nightmare because it visits the ones who are scared of it. He said that if I became brave to sleep alone, Nightmare won’t visit me. When I was eight, he gave me his favorite stuffed toy. He said it protects him from Nightmare and if I sleep with the teddy bear, Nightmare will not come to me. I don’t know what happened because his teddy bear suddenly lost its magic to protect me from Nightmare.

Jess figured the nightmares were something to do with the spell when Cat shrank at the mention of the word. Ricky turned back to his work. "I don't get scared." It seemed an unlikely claim. Everyone was scared of something, or so Jess had thought. But the way he said it, so devoid of emotion, Jess believed him. Mr Porter looked doubly dismayed when Damien hung his work. "We are all side characters in a book bought to life by an author/higher entity living out his fantasy of becoming a God made flesh," the teacher read. His expression suggested he was quickly losing the will to live and most definitely regretting the lesson plan.

A face that gives off the vibes like you were about to die horribly in the hands of a murderer. “Stay awa—” --- Desperate gasps of air, Sein woke up sweating cold and had complications of breathing, from his peripheral view, he saw a tall figure holding a ruler, he looks up and saw his teacher looking down at him. “No sleeping in the class Mr. Reigo” The teacher said as she walked back to her desk as she continues the lectures that she stopped just to wake up a whimpering Sein Reigo on his desk. “Sein, I keep on waking you up, but you didn’t budge” Andy, Sein’s seatmate said in a whisper. Sein looks at her, then to the whole class and lastly to the teacher.

"It's okay, you need the rest. Goodnight dear" "Night Umma" she replied resting her head on her ramshackle bed. She was turning from side to side because sleep couldn't come and she was still bothered of how to tell her parents. She was like that before she slept off without knowing. Having eight o'clock lecture was not fun nor easy especially when you know the lecturer must attend the class and might write test which makes you to hurry up to school. That's the situation in which Tehzeeb was. She didn't sleep on time yesterday night and slept again after her fajir prayer while Umma didn't have any idea of her having eight o'clock lecture. Now she's running up and down to get dressed so she w

He would disagree with her plans. She must leave secretly. Suddenly, a soft voice spoke. "Mommy!" Larissa turned around to see Vincent pattering his way toward her. He reached out and hugged her. "Mommy, I had a nightmare. It was the red-eyed guy again. He's so mean! He did many bad things. I tried to stop him, but I couldn't. I almost cried!" Larissa patted him and looked at his eyes, which were now black again. She said softly, "Don't be scared. I have an idea already."

his voice was so scary and I wondered if he was indeed a teacher. "Nothing," I said as a loud yawn escaped my mouth "Oh shit! Do you think crystal high is for the lazy? No! If you can't cope, you better take your leave at this moment! Laziness would not be tolerated in this school" he shouted and the entire class laughed, obviously happy with the way he yelled at me. I wanted to apologize to him but when I stared at the boards, I noticed I knew almost all of what he explained there. "Sir, I slept because I know what today's topic is all about. I don't wanna stress my brain and decided to take a nap instead" I replied calmly, which was unusual of me

wrong? I mean, having a teacher’s number is definitely a gray area. Even when you hate the teacher. The idea of selling his number goes through my head, and I smirk at myself. How funny would it be when every girl bombards his phone with messages? And make me rich in the meantime? Why is he online at 1 a.m. anyway? I hear Mason stumbling upstairs and decide it’s time for bed. “Goodnight, big bro!” I shout through my closed door.

"Excuse me?" "You hit me with a…" I trailed off, looking around for what he hit me with. I found the culprit lying on the floor, a red chalk. Give a round of applause to the only teacher who would use chalk to write on a marker board. The only teacher who would wear pants big enough to fit an extra human his size and an old shirt I'm sure was passed on to him from his father's father. The teacher was old-fashioned, odd, and ugly. Yet he loved staring at boobs. "Can you tell me why you are sleeping when I'm teaching?"

Toys lay scattered everywhere, abandoned, and age had dulled all the colors or peeled them off completely. Though I didn't spend more than a couple of weeks here, it was actually the best couple of weeks of my life back then. That was, of course until he gave me to the Nightmare Master. Instantly, I brushed that thought out of my head, refusing to think about that time. It wasn't a good time, and dwelling on it would only bring up memories that I really didn't want to face. Instead, I focused on glitch who we're staying at some pieces of paper taped to one of the walls. The one he was looking at was a picture of a kid with the words dead written across it.

At first it wasn’t much more than screams in the night, but soon it carried over into everyday life. I was never told the details of her dreams–that was confidential–but during that first parent-teacher conference, her teacher pulled out a folder of illustrations. Inside were several illustrations of a little girl with long brown pigtails standing in a large burning house. In some images there were bodies lying on the ground in puddles of blood drawn in rough streaks of red crayon. “I asked the students to draw memories from their childhood for a personal biography project,” the teacher explained, showing me the story written below the most graphic of images. “This one was supposed to be her