Melancholy Nightmare Novels & Stories

That will be giving me nightmares! ------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 18. HAUNTED BY MY NIGHTMARES HARA LUCID NIGHTMARES. That's what they call it. Because in the nightmare I'm having at the moment, I'm aware that I'm dreaming, that I'm having another nightmare. And they weren't just any random nightmares, they were a reoccurrence of my past with Roland. *

The room, once divided by shadows, became a space where the tendrils of reality and nightmare intertwined—a delicate dance between the conscious and the unconscious. "I'm so sorry, Drew," Jette whispered, her eyes seeking solace in his gaze. "I never meant for any of this to hurt you. We need to find a way to break free from this nightmare—together." In that moment, Drew and Jette confronted the enigma that bound them—the nightmare that had spilled into reality. The threads of understanding, woven through the shared journey of dreams and waking moments, became a tapestry that held the promise of navigating through the shadows and emerging into the light of a reality untainted by the haunting

Soon enough, the terrifying nightmare came replaying right in front of his eyes. The very nightmare that he wished to forget, yet, how many times he wished to destroy it, it kept on coming to him, taunting, haunting him like a persistent ghost. Caramel was already spasmed on the floor, the foam spat from her mouth. The very nightmare she had was too tragic for her, it brought an unsavory taste inside her body and on her senses. “Roach… golg… golg… help… roach… my mouth… inside… help…” She choked her neck with her own hands. “No… golg… golg…”

Melancholy and a fainted pictures appeared before my eyes, memories that I didn't want to go back yet I didn't want to forget. I memorized every single detail of those messy pictures ascending above on the dreary sky. Her footsteps were creating a pattern of emotions—it was empty and sorrowful. As thy cold wind touched my skin, I retrieved that the lonely soul was part of my memories. I felt disgust about those flickering scene that I didn't expect to see again. What is this? A nightmare? A dream? Or maybe it is the reality... "Comeback..." It was like a tainted sword that ripped out my soul from that nightmare. I found myself moving my fingers and felt as if I was drifted back to the realit

“In their castle beyond night Gather the Gods in Darkness, With darkness to pattern man’s fate. The colors of darkness are no monotonous hue- For the blackness of Evil knows various shades, Full many as Evil has names.” Karl Edward Wagner

She doesn't like feeling weak. “Exactly. I am the Alpha of Nightmares. What is a common thing of nightmares?” he asked, his tone taking on a sinister quality as he leaned closer, claws starting to dig into my skin. “They are dark and terrifying?” I arched an eyebrow doing my best to maintain my bravado. I would not whimper for him. He obviously gets off on that shit.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips, and I let my neck fall backward to the wall and closed my eyes, relieved. My chest heaved up and down. My tank top and my hair were glued to me due to sweat. Suddenly, a wave of drowsiness ran through my body. My eyelids became heavy again. I shook my head and opened my eyes, only to see the room circling around me. Black spots came into my vision and before I knew it, I was falling unconscious again.

As far as I know we are only forbidden to reveal our identity to them, thus I only show myself in disguise. I watched him sleep and every time he is trying to do something bad I try to kill the evil around him. The things are, there are too many evil around him. They love to feed on the bitterness that Harold has in the life he’d been with. The more he harbors it in his heart the stronger they become. We call them Eater, because they only grow when something unholy comes out of the man’s heart. They grow as human desire evil thoughts and even hide anger, lust or any of its kind. Whatever things that are not from the Lord the Eaters were being fed off.

He collapses to the ground, growling in pain, desperately fighting back. My mum, in a desperate howl, drops me and shifts into her wolf form to join the fierce battle. Then I wake up with a jolt as hot tears stream down my eyes. My heart races like it wants to escape my chest as the remnant of the dream lingers in my mind. Scanning the room, confusion clouds my thoughts as I search for reassurance that it was just a dream. The dream is disturbing because it keeps recurring. I had watched my dad get killed by a ruthless Alpha right in front of me, and since then, the scene of battle keeps reoccurring.