Nightmare Fanart Novels & Stories

Liora demanded, her voice quivering. The figure's lips curled into a sinister smirk. "You may call me Nocturna. And dear guardians, you're too late." She held up an obsidian mirror, its surface rippling like liquid, revealing distorted visions of Meranthia's landscapes being engulfed in darkness and chaos.

Nighttide was known for being extra secretive and protective; all that was known about them was that their army and warriors were mighty, and they were ones every pack – neighbouring or afar – wanted an alliance with them. Though their preservative instincts kept them hidden within the shadows, literally. Clicking through pages and pages of historical articles, Suki finally came across a picture – no, a painting – of a forest. It looked as if whoever created the image had done so from the sky, perhaps being up in the mountains. The painting itself presented a beautifully open forest, lit by the sun, but there was a patch that wasn’t catching any rays – a small, misshapen oval completely engu

“You’re not making a deal with Lucas. You’re making one with me. And if you don’t, well, I hope you like cats.” “What do you want?” “First, you need to make a charitable donation to FONTA, anonymously, of course. We don’t want people thinking you went and did something nice.” The Friends of the Night Association, or FONTA for short, is an organization that promotes human-vampire relationships, both personal and professional. “And the size of the donation needs to be at least half of the amount you sold me for.” My father does his best not to recoil from the thought of doing anything to help FONTA. “What else?”

“For some, I guess I would. Sweetheart, this is not something I would want to bring you into, but I have no other choice.” “I get that. Always trying to protect me. However, this time I think I need to know so I can help you. Something is clearly bothering you.” She said as she looked into the golden pools of his eyes, and she almost forgot why he was there. She had to shake her head, and she knew she could not get distracted by his eyes and the wonders contained in them. “This is not something that is normal, either.” He stated as he looked at her. “A nightmare.”

It is said that, the worst nightmare is to have a bloodfang smile at you. The Shadow Pelt Pack, with fur so dark that it blends completely into the darkness, blessed with unusual speed and precision. Usually called the Night Dancers. Their name is spoken in fear, for the saying, "if the moon stares at you, the Night Dancers are near, and your screams will be music."

And my recent nightmares are related to the birthmark on my body. Whenever I fall asleep I dream that the birthmark on my body comes to life and turns into a man holding me from behind, slowly touching my body and kissing my back, then suddenly turns into a big wolf, crushing my bones bit by bit ,hardened eyes stared at me with a deadly gaze, and finally opened its mouth to tear my body apart.

But that wasn’t what he was drawing today. There was a picture of two girls—rendered crudely in crayon, but still identifiable as girls. One of them had short blond hair and the other had long brown braids. Their hands were on their faces and their mouths open in screams. David had drawn these as big black circles. A huge black shadow hovered before them, a shapeless body with red eyes and clearly defined hands. The hands looked like long silver knives. There were many drawings before this one. Lauren wondered how long David had been at it.

Daniela's POV A black card with my name on it. That was what I had been playing with for the past five minutes, with a huge smile on my face. Funny, because no one should be happy their worst enemy had done something nice. A gift alone should be an alert to tread carefully. And yeah, I should also be worried about other things; like how this man always had access to my room and was clearly in here when I was asleep, or probably even lamenting over the very graphic and gory nightmare I had just a few hours ago about Alexander drowning me in his pool.

She hoped that the beautiful woman standing before her had a remedy for her ill fate. “What is it, Crystal. You aren’t possibly going to suggest that I have mercy on my enemy, are you?” Mane frowned slightly and said. However, the amount of energy he was sending into Night Mare reduced, and its humming died down. However, the occasional flashing of its pitch black blade was a reminder that it was still alert, and sober. The amount of blood it had drunk today wasn’t enough to disorient it. So it was hoping for more juice.

*Aria* The next morning, the war table was no longer just Blackmoon’s. Nightfang banners had been hung along the stone walls—darker cloth, different sigils—but they didn’t clash with ours the way I’d once imagined. Blackmoon’s silver crescent and Nightfang’s black wolf’s head shared the same draft of air, the same rising heat of bodies pressed into the old hall. Lucian stood at one end of the long oak table. Kade at the other.