Monstrous Nightmare Novels & Stories

The blindfold came loose and lay on the floor plunging himself into darkness just as the first tremor hit. His body convulsed, muscles rippling under skin that stretched taut. Bones ground, threatening to shift, but the chains held—for now. A roar built in his throat, escaping as a pained snarl. The monster clawed at his mind, visions of crimson rivers and Elian's screams fueling its frenzy. Outside, beyond the wards, the moon shifted. Its light bled from silver to a deep, ominous red—a blood moon, harbinger of chaos. Howls rose across the kingdom, wolves cowering in dens, packs huddling in fear. The red tide didn't just amplify instincts; it unleashed the buried horrors, turning allies into

The heavy bedroom door suddenly burst open, the wood banging loudly against the wall. "Nora!" Davis, the night guard stationed at my door, rushed into the room with his silver blade drawn. He quickly flipped the wall switch, flooding the space with bright, harsh light. "Are you hurt? I heard you scream." Clutching the heavy duvet to my collarbone, my entire body trembled violently. "I... I saw it. The monster. It killed me." "A nightmare?" Davis asked, lowering his weapon slightly but keeping his eyes alert. He took a step closer to the bed, noticing how hard I was shaking. "You are completely white, Nora. Hang on."

That is the strangest thing I have ever thought in my life. That familiar itch starts to spread across my neck, down my chest to my stomach. It itches so bad, I pull up my shirt and when I do, I scream out into the empty dark room that is lit only by the moonlight and a single nightlight over by the entrance. Daring to look down again, I see that where I had just scratched, is a gaping wound and there is a maggot crawling out of it. I hear a noise from behind me and when I turn on my heels, I watch as the same man from before stands about a foot taller than I am and is staring right into my eyes. He opens his mouth and states, “You have finally awakened. Good.”

Bad things happen on her birthdays and they were usually the dreams she had a night before, coming to reality. They were usually slight occurrences that didn't involve death but they were still bad. The worst thing about these nightmares was that it seemed there was nothing that could stop them from happening. They were bound to happen and Juana called it her curse. But her dad and granny thought it was fun or magic. Even if it was evil. "It'll let us know what to do and what not to do" Granny said but the evil still happened anyway no matter how careful they were in trying to prevent it.

And then, the monsters breached the mist. They were horrifying. They were massive, grey-skinned abominations, their muscles bulging with sickening, unnatural proportions. Their chaotic, glowing purple eyes burned with mindless, explosive rage. To Mwajuma, they were the ultimate manifestation of the toxic, violent male spirit—beasts that existed only to destroy the beauty of the world.

The scent of men who had already used their toys. My thighs pressed together out of instinct, trembling as I thought of what was coming. Of the men they said came here. The Monsters of the North. The beasts who didn’t just fuck—they destroyed. The ones who were said to knot a girl so hard she couldn’t walk for days, who split cunts and left them dripping with seed like trophies. The goddess should’ve struck me dead before letting me end up here. And then, Suddenly— The music stopped. The pounding, screaming, filthy bass went dead all at once, like the world had been yanked out from under me. My breathing was all I could hear, shallow and ragged under the blindfold.

"But the threat is not over." "What do you mean?" Elara asked. "The Shadow Wolves are just the beginning," the Moon Goddess said. "The Nightmare is trying to return." Elara's heart raced. "How?" "The Nightmare is feeding on the fear and pain of the supernatural beings," the Moon Goddess said. "It is growing stronger, and it will soon be able to break free from its prison." Elara woke up, her heart racing. She looked at Damon, who was sleeping peacefully beside her. She knew that the Moon Goddess was right—the Nightmare was trying to return.

The campsite suddenly filled with a repugnant smell, like rotting flesh. Nathan leaped forward just as the creatures burst from the shadows. They were tall and bulky, twice the height of Nathan, with dangling arms, wide hands, thin bony fingers, vicious claws, and protruded fangs shining with poison. It was like seeing a vampire experience death over and over again, unwilling to die. I stared in horror, a blood lust and anger evident in their faces. I lost my balance, collapsing in panic. Everything became a bur. Junto was flung aside by one of the beast's pale hands. Then it dove after the Shape Shifter with jaws the size of a bear trap.

I was someone who suffered from nightmares, but paradoxically, the darkness here, was calming. I dragged my feet towards his bed and that’s when I saw the frame on his nightstand, next to a Bible. This man owned a Bible? My curiosity fully took over from this moment. I flipped it open. Maxine Jackson. I frowned a closed it. Who was she? My eyes slid back to the frame and I picked it up. It was a picture of a young woman, probably in her early thirties. She had thick black hair and blue eyes. Alexander’s eyes were a dark grey, but the resemblance was uncanny. This was his mother and that Bible perhaps, was hers.

No, a puzzle, but somehow a clue, that goes like this. "Don’t you remember those happy voices in your mind as you sleep? Or maybe the screams you hear of terror in a nightmare. What is a nightmare? Isn’t a nightmare a small prison you’re trapped in, with no hopes of waking? Why? Because you never know you’re asleep. You forget everything, your name, your life, and who you are. The only thing to accompany you are the monsters that laugh in your mind, that taunt you, knowing everything. Your life, your happiness, everything that had been stolen away. But the scariest part of the nightmare won’t be the monsters. They aren’t scary themselves. The most fearful thing of all is that they are yours.