Man In Dreams Novels & Stories

It was enough time for a nap. If I’d known the dream would come, I would have vetoed sleep. My second dream man was the star of this one. He was wilder than the other, slightly disheveled but equally as dangerous. His chestnut hair was unkempt and fell slightly past his shoulders. Where dream man one was hard lines of wiry muscle, these muscles bulged and I had trouble believing he could contain them under a shirt. He’d never worn one in the dreams so maybe I would never know.

I shook my head and opened the shower. As I stood under the shower, I couldn't shake the image of the desperate man from my dream. His urgent plea to run still echoed in my mind, haunting me with unanswered questions. Who was he, and why did he appear in my dreams with such intensity? The memory felt like a puzzle piece I couldn't quite fit into place, a clue waiting to be deciphered.

“No problem.” ………………………………………………. “Good morning everyone, how was your night?” Chris asked a bunch of people sitting in front of a TV. Different set of eyes balanced on him “How are you dear?” The most elderly woman amongst the bunch asked. “I think I would be fine.” He replied Concern creeped into her face “Why is that?” “I had a disturbing dream in the midnight and I don’t remember anything about it” Chris said with his mouth full of toast bread and a cup of coffee on his hand.

He seemed to be fading. “I’ll see you again, Jennah.” The buzzing grew louder. Jennah opened her eyes. Her alarm clock was going off. She reached over and slapped a hand on the snooze button and then focused to make sure she was in her room. She blew out a breath and tried to shake the fog from her mind. That explained a few things. The dream was so real, but not at the same time. Too bad, really. That man, Dominic, her mind had invented was quite nice to look at. No more chocolate caramel popcorn for you before bed, she thought as she slowly sat up.

* Jane Dankworth * I did not notice the exact time I fell asleep, until the memories of what happened came to haunt me in dreams. A scream, coming from me escaped my throat, though in the dream, I couldn't tell it was me until the echo broke through the dark. I was again back in that office, the shadows bending like hands reaching for me. There was a smear of blood on the glass, my heels slipping against the floor, and someone was shouting my name but I couldn't find the door.

I felt one of his hands on my head to help me stand up from my lying position. "I'm dreaming..." I held my breath again and tried to calm myself down. I know it was just a dream, but I feel like it's real. I looked at his hand on the side of my bed. I remembered the man's hand in my dream, but every time I looked at his hand, I felt that it wasn't him. The man in my dreams is not as gentle as the man who's with me right now. In my few months here on the island with him, I can say that he is a good person. That's why I don't want to believe in my dreams, even though I have a suspicion that what I'm dreaming is part of a memory that I forgot.

Oddly enough, he has a very strong will, which I envy. I just want to rip his clothes off. "Fine..." I concede, watching him leave the room, switching the light off behind him, ready to take Eyla back home for the night. It doesn't take me long to fall asleep. Being in pain all day is exhausting, however, tonight, it seems as though I'm plagued with nightmares more than usual. I see a man in my dreams. He's tall, enigmatic. Everything about him is shadowy, almost impossible to decipher, except for the piercing green eyes of his that stare back at me through the darkness.

“I don’t remember exactly. I just… I keep dreaming about a man. He’s always with me, making me laugh. In the dream, I was really happy. “I didn’t know who he was at first, but now… I think maybe he was your father. But I don’t even remember what he looked like.”

The entire night was filled with surreal and fragmented dreams—none of them forming a coherent story. In one of the dreams, Miranda cradled a chubby, smiling baby in her arms. Behind her stood a tall, gentle man, softly encircling her waist, quietly reminding her to watch her step. But when she turned to look at him, he vanished. All that remained was an endless field of wild grass, stretching as far as her eyes could see. No trace of the man, no one to turn to.

The man waved his hand and a grand palace appeared composed of the natural rocks and cracked ground within the area. The man entered the premises of the structure to enjoy his hard earned rest as he had also not gone to sleep for more than a week. Before enjoying his sleep for the first time in years, the man raised his left hand to materialize a clone that would guard the castle and act as a gatekeeper. When all was said and done, the man succumb to his slumber and he can only hope for a dreamless sleep to come. Dreams are not as superficial as some think they are, especially in this world. They are dangerous because there were those who prey on using dreams as medium.