Nightmare Book Novels & Stories

⸻ Every dream needed one. ⸻ Without endings… Nothing had meaning. 💔 ⸻ Yet she couldn’t accept it. ⸻ She loved the dream too much. ⸻ She loved everyone too much. ⸻ She couldn’t let them disappear. ⸻ 🌙 The First Theft The memory shattered. 💥 ⸻ Back in the library… Nyra looked down at the black book. 📖🖤 ⸻ Then finally admitted the truth. ⸻

[Welcome to Eternal Nightmare. Survival is victory.] The cold, robotic female voice blasted through the dark while I was sprawled on the couch doomscrolling. The next second, a white flash nuked my vision and forced my eyes shut. When I opened them again, my living room had straight-up rage quit and turned into a blood-red wasteland. "Okay, what the hell?" I squinted and spotted my six-foot-two husband, Adrian Chase, already doing the whole protective-dad thing with one arm around our son.

“Sleep, Aria. When you wake, we make sure your nightmares don’t own you.” It’s such an odd promise that I nod without thinking. In bed, I stare at the ceiling for a long time. The city hums below. My chest aches. Eventually, I drift off. The nightmares come, as promised. I’m back in the hall, Liam’s voice echoing as he rejects me, the pack’s laughter swelling. Except this time, the pain doesn’t stop. It builds and builds until I’m sure my body will rip apart. I try to scream and no sound comes out.

As she puked, flashes of the nightmare that tore her from sleep started flashing before her eyes. Blood- so much of it. Bodies piled up in heaps. The crackle of magic in the air, the sweltering heat of dragon fire everywhere, and her... Nezetta... In the center of it all. Chestnut brown hair whipped about a small face. The blackest of eyes and the darkest of hearts. Naomi felt it all, saw it all... Heard it all. "Ugh," Naomi groaned as she emptied the contents of her stomach even more. There was so much going on in her mind, so much that she didn't—couldn't understand.

His breath slowed. His hands relaxed. And without warning— The room melted. And the dream began. The Nightmare Smoke. Everywhere. It twisted like a serpent through the air, wrapping around his throat. He stumbled through it—barefoot, shirt torn, hands dripping blood that wasn't his. "Xavier..." The voice came from nowhere, yet it pulsed through his bones. He stepped over a broken spear. All around him, wolves lay fallen—some he recognized. Some he didn't. Their eyes stared blankly at the stars.

He didn't get nightmares. Damon switch on the reading lamp by his armchair flickered to life with a soft orange glow. He decided a bit of light reading might help him get back off to sleep. So he sat in the armchair, fidgeting slightly so that the cushion sat just right against the small of his back and picked up a forgotten book lying on the side table beside him. He opened the book and flicked through the pages until he reached his previous spot and stared at the blurry lines.

I looked the other way. He looked at me, his eyes gleaming. "Good morning, sweetheart." "Morning!" I replied, looking at the wolf figurine on the table. "Why are you so eager to see me early in the morning?" He asked, and his intense look took my breath away. His bedroom voice is so seductive to my ears. Erased! I quickly blocked those thoughts from my mind. "I had a nightmare last night. Scary wolves surrounded me in the forest, and Natasha ordered the wolves to attack me. They shredded me to pieces, and I died in my dream! It feels so real! So horrific!" I exclaimed, looking at him with my terrified eyes.

“But don’t let it blind you. That’s how they win.” Then he turned, leaving me alone on the bed as he sank into the chair by the window. ***** It was midnight, and at some point, exhaustion dragged me under. But even in sleep, there was no escape. The nightmare found me quickly. My parents lay there again, sprawled lifeless on the floor, the dark stain of their blood creeping toward me. Their open eyes seemed to follow me as I stumbled back, whispering apologies they couldn’t hear. Then, from the corner of the room, a figure emerged—a silhouette darker than the shadows around it. It moved closer, its voice curling through the air like smoke.

His pitch-black eyes are looking at me as if he knows me. I reach up and stroke the horse gently on his muzzle until Alfred shouts loudly from behind me. "Watch out!" Alfred runs to my side and pulls me away from the fence. He puts his body between me and the horse. "This is Nightmare," Alfred explains. "He belongs to King Leonidas. He is not kind." Nightmare nips angrily at Alfred's shoulder. Alfred tries to push the horse away, but Nightmare bites down on his fingers. "Damn it," Alfred hisses, pulling his hand away from Nightmare. His hand is dripping blood onto the snow. He tries to hide it from me, but I pull his hand away from his chest.