Nightmare Freddy Drawings Novels & Stories

Fenris curled into a ball on the floor, tears mixing with his cold sweat. Freya… His Freya… He crawled toward the bed, wanting to touch her face, but his hand recoiled again. He didn't deserve to. He didn't deserve to touch her. Just then, his gaze fell on the table beside the bed. Scattered across it were some sketches. He'd almost forgotten that his Freya was a brilliant designer. He picked them up with a trembling hand. The first page was his own face, twisted in anger, the strokes terrifyingly detailed.

No wonder Killian couldn’t look me in the eye this morning. I reach for the sketch pad Elara left by the nightstand. My fingers tremble, but I grip the pencil like it’s my lifeline. I don’t even think, I just draw. Symbols. Circles. Eyes with fire spilling from them. A wolf with a shattered spine. A crown that burns. A clock with no hands. My hand stops only when I notice the paper trembling beneath my touch. Not from me. From the floor. A low vibration hums through the wood. Like a warning. Something is coming.

Freya’s eyes flew open the instant she regained consciousness, her body jumping from being on an unfamiliar bed and space, Her cold nightmare of Aldro killing the pack and hurting her family was like a cold blanket of misery washed over her, The coldness from the dark room seeped into her skin as Freya let out cold sweat, She woke up with little light from a dim candle as there was no window in the darkly lit room, “ ouch” Freya groaned as she raised her hands to touch her and push away her hair from her face and to touch her throbbing skull where Diandra had landed a hit, She remembered the fight, and pieces of her faded memories slowly rushed back in,

He grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight. The beam cut through the dark. Cale flinched, shielding his eyes with his forearm. He was holding a charcoal stick—stolen from the art therapy challenge, Elion realized. And on the floor, spread out on the back of old production schedules, were drawings. Dozens of them. Elion lowered the light to look at the papers. They weren't doodles. They were nightmares rendered in black dust. There was a drawing of a clock, but the face was melting.

“I’m not that interested in swimming, but since it’s an excuse to see you naked, I’m game.” “Harr-harr,” I roll my eyes at him, and Freddy laughs, easily pulling me up with him. He is very gentle with me, sort of like an oversized, blonde puppy. He is actually taller than Lucas, but not quite as swole. Freddy is more cut. I grab the hem of my jeans. “Promise not to get inside my head even when I’m without my vervain.” He places his hand on his chest with a smile, and I try not to check out his abs. “I promise not to read your mind...now, will you please undress?”

He noticed too. I wasn’t hungry. None of us really were. When Jayden finally spoke, it was with that sing-song innocence that never failed to set me on edge lately. “Mommy,” he said, holding up the drawing. “Look.” I took it without thinking. And froze. It was a woman. Or something like one. No face, just a void where her eyes and mouth should be. Long, twisted fingers with dagger-like nails stretching across the page. She stood in a black dress that melted into smoke at the bottom.

I glanced at a few of the books, some fantasy novels and a small sketch pad. I opened the sketch pad and looked through it, she was good. Really good. The scenes were mostly outdoors. Forests, waterfalls, mountains. All done with such grace and precision. Each more lovely and realistic than the last. I noticed at the bottom there was a J written as beautifully as the drawings themselves. I got to the last page and there was a drawing of a moon. Bright and beautiful in the sky but there was something else to it. The drawing felt sad. “What the hell.” I snapped as I lifted my hand and wiped a tear from my cheek.

Author’s POV It wasn’t freddy. It wasn’t Freddy but his own hallucination. Due to the past mental stress and exhaustion his mind was filled with the thought of freddy coming back into his life and running everything he has now. And eventually that evening he ended up being tricked by his mind which played him well.

"This is beautiful…almost haunting." Waverly leaned forward and re-examined her work. "It kind of poured out of me. I can't explain it, only I can't make sense of it." "What do you mean?" Felicity asked, bringing her eyes up to Waverly's. "I just…I keep seeing this person," she pointed to the shadowed man in the drawing. "He comes mostly in my dreams. This is the first time I've sketched him. And this one," she said, now pointing to the black figure. "I've never seen this one before. It's…dark. I think it has something to do with what's going on recently around here."

In the end, I think they turned out great. Not that I knew what the others were for but there was also a frog on a log, a humming bird and a fat Cardinal. The very last one I was drawing was for Arlo. He got those picture for us, or more for me. It was of a wolf. It’s head was downward with his teeth showing. The hair was standing straight up with a human skull under it’s paw. There wasn’t any flesh on it, just the bones. Originally, I was going to make it a dead rabbit or something but this seemed appropriate. Keeping this one black and white, kept some of the mystery alive. “Charlotte??” Waylon yelled as he was coming in.