Nightmare Guy Novels & Stories

NINA The monster hunting me and devouring me in my nightmares was always faceless. I don’t know how he looked. My nightmares never revealed his face while he pushed me down on the forest floor and fucked me senseless. But as Jeremiah Sokolov stood at the threshold with his tall and muscled form wrapped in black shirt and grey slacks, I wondered if he was the same monster from my nightmares. He has the bearing of it, of being a heartless monster who would take without an apology.

Then with a natural turn almost as if she's dancing, Restia faced me— with a bright sunshine smile on her face as always. As usual, her sunshine smile always heals my soul. Six years ago— ever since our parents' disappearance… Restia and Ruby are the only ones left. They are my irreplaceable family. My name is Lucifer Nightwalker von Nightmare. A male, a human, and will be 16 years old this year. If you were wondering why a guy like me, who was supposed to attend high school like any other teens but is going for a jog instead… Unfortunately, I'm currently stuck on this very island.

Dante sent short messages every day. Day one: In Montana. Following a lead. Day three: Found the bullet maker. He talked. Name of the shooter is Reaper. Day five: Reaper was hired for three jobs. All Council targets. I’m close. Every message made my heart race. Every day without him made the house feel empty. I started having nightmares again. This time it was a man in a black mask standing over my bed. I would wake up gasping and reaching for Dante. Ethan would hold me until I stopped shaking.

The entire world around me explodes at the connection, and my vision flickers white, then blue, then black. And I feel myself collapse on the bed. I’m standing above an immaculate bed made of black wood, inlaid with Neron. Cyrillius sleeps there, a relaxed look on his disgusting face. One arm is kinked above his head, the other hand rests on his chest. He breathes slow and deep. I hate him. I hate this man. I hate that he came to my home planet and destroyed everything. I hate that he owns the galaxy. I hate that he orders the death of so many people and doesn’t ever feel an ounce of guilt over it.

Moreno is a bit thin but tall and knows how to dress, add to that his face as if he is Korean with Filipino descent. "I'm Nash," said a man. Out of all of them, he seems to be the smartest. Zera didn't know but she could feel it. "I'm Julian," he said. It is the smallest of them that is quite white. "Jam," one said simply and it seemed stuck. "Hello, I'm Ice, the most handsome of all." After he said that, his companions hit his head except for Josh who just winced. That guy is the most lively and mischievous of them all.

My voice quivered as I spoke and continued to recount my recurring nightmares. "I'm trapped in that dark room and I can hear his voice whispering, taunting me and I can feel his hands on me. I can't see him, but I know he's there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to hurt me again.And no matter how hard I try, I can't escape it. I can't escape him." I sighed and looked down at my trembling hands. "We're here for you, Dannie. We'll help you through this. You're safe now." Alyssa said as she gently squeezed my hand.

Gid, I knocked several times—-Ow," he said as he noticed the woman lying on the bed. "Nah, Uncle, I don't even know who she is, believe me," Gideon says, scratching his brow. Sam took a big breath, saying, "Never mind, go fix this and I'll come back to you later." and exited the room. Gideon nodded and looked at the woman. He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, wondering how long he could distract himself from a nightmare he would never forget for the rest of his life. He returned his attention to his body, the scratch on his chest that would never fade.

After that, Marcus stopped trying. Marcus had been convicted of fraud. Nothing violent. He was forty-one, with the tired face of a man who had spent his life avoiding trouble. Prison was supposed to be a brief stop, a lesson. But on his very first night, the nightmares began. From his very first day in prison, Marcus began having nightmares, always the same dream. He dreamed he was walking down a pitch-black alley. The walls were damp, the air thick with the smell of rotting fruit. Far ahead, a single streetlamp flickered, casting a weak yellow circle on the ground. Beneath that light stood a woman in a red dress. Her back was to him. Her hair was long and black, hanging like a curtain. And

[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.

Desperate. "Shh... shh, Monique, it's me. You're having a nightmare," Liam's cooed softly. But I stared at him—stared into the eyes of my parents' killer, the man who had ripped my world apart. Tears blurred my vision, hot and unstoppable, as the memories of the nightmare crashed down around me. The nightmare, the terror—it was him. And here he was, of all people, comforting me through the very nightmare he had caused.