Movie Dream/killer Novels & Stories

Ashley cried as she leaped forward, intending to grab him and stop him from leaving, but it was too late… He's already gone. “No, don't go, Nike!” Ashley screamed, her voice filled with desperation and despair. Instantly, her eyes snapped open, her body jolting upright. Beads of sweat trickling down her face, the evidence of the intense dream that had just consumed her. As she took in her surroundings, she realized she was safe in her bed, the darkness replaced by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through her window. The dream had felt so vivid, so real, that it took a moment for Ashley to fully comprehend that it had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Yet, the lingering

Desserts said to Dreamer: “Dreamer, help me! Lucifer is crazy and bullying us.” She had thought Dreamer had spoken for them, and she could hide behind Dreamer now. However, just as she finished speaking the system prompted: “The player Dreamer activates Slaughter mode.” Systems: “Dessert was killed by Dreamer.” She lay on the ground, screaming in disbelief: “Is that Dreamer crazy? What’s wrong with him?”

Thanks. Chloe rolled her eyes and went home. Liam didn't come over until after she had gone to bed. He had sent her a message saying he was working on some follow-up, something for something she didn't care, and would be late. She had fallen asleep and began to dream that she was at the edge of the window in Mr. Kawasaki's office looking down. She could make out Mr. Kawasaki on the ground far below, and Heather was in his arms. They were in a pool of their own blood on top of a perfect sheet of unshattered glass snuggled together like lovers.

Was it a dream? ***

I said suggestively and he looked at me for a while then rolled his eyes. He put his phone down and I smiled, turning on a Horror movie. Halfway through, my heart was already racing in my chest and I looked over to find him staring at the screen with a blank face. A jump scare came and he didn't even seem fazed. "Landon, the point of a Scary Movie is to actually get scared." I told him, getting up once it was over. Rolling his eyes, he got up as well and went over to my closet, taking a fresh towel.

The scar on his eye was angry red. Behind him stood Damian. Her murderer. Her fiancé. Seeing him made Arielle’s blood boil. The Void surged. Kill him, it whispered. Rip his throat out. Arielle clenched her fists. Not yet, she told the monster. Wait. "Lycian," Kaelen said smoothly. He didn't stand up. "You look well." "For a terrorist." Lycian sat opposite him. He didn't touch the tea. "Self-defense, Kaelen."

The room was deathly silent except for the frantic beat of my heart in my ears. His low voice and the one from my dreams overlapped, weaving into a single key that unlocked my carefully built self-deception with a sharp click. He was Mr. Y—the man who sang off-key love songs to me at midnight, and the very same one who had chastised me relentlessly in the day. I stared at him. His handsome face was so close, and the usual coldness and distance were gone, replaced by a fragile, pleading vulnerability. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle tossed all night by a stormy wind.

Death tells him "Who's that?" He asks "Can I go?" I ask tiredly "It's me, and yeah, your little friend is in your room," Death says "My little friend," "The werewolf," he says At his words, I take off running past him and quickly up the stairs in record time before bursting into my room where she was sitting on my bed covering her ears. "What is with the screaming?" She asks "Sorry," I say before sticking my head out of the door, "Death can we go in your room?!" I ask him

“Because you don’t fear me.” Jacob’s breath hitched. He didn’t say it aloud, but maybe that was the most dangerous thing of all. Later, in the dark... Jacob dreamed of gunshots. Of Leo bleeding out on marble floors. Of Matteo smiling with a knife in his hand. He woke up sweating, panting, the sheets tangled around him. The bed was empty. But the world wasn’t still. Something was coming. He could feel it in his bones.

None, that’s what. I need to feel useful, somehow. It looks like it’s back to trying to fight my way out of her. I’m going to bring down that Shit Witch. How fucking dare she put a subliminal trigger that would make me want to kill my mate. Okay, so not my mate specifically but anyone who’s a D’Amore. That distinction doesn’t change the fact that I was a mere puppet, as my body obeyed the command to kill Katrina simply for being a D’Amore.