Nightmare Nights Novels & Stories

Also, Yvonne would start calling it unhealthy or how psychopathic it is for Giselle to want nothing but to study 24/7. Though, one would never know that the real reason why Giselle looks like a moving corpse is because of the spectacle that happened last night. The scene of the incident decided to rewind itself in her messy head, preventing her from having a peaceful study, or a good night's rest. She place the toothpaste down harshly and brushed her teeth while, at the same time, groaning out loud, "that- bloody Darius- curse him!"

Her granny called her almost everyday just to know what she saw the previous night and Juana would tell her everything. Sometimes, Juana didn't see anything at all, sometimes she saw good things, but most times, she had nightmares. When her granny called to ask about her dream the night after she saw something about avocados, Juana refused to tell her about it because it involved someone dying. The person was dying. Not dead. She didn't want to imagine any of her parents or even her granny dying, when she tried to, the imagination hurt her so much she got bad headaches. Juana felt like telling someone about it, talking to someone about her whole life, but she wanted a neutral person because

A lullaby hums in a voice not your own Sung from the mouths of the buried and dead A faceless thing grins in the wide doorway Stretching its arms, your escort inside Your name is etched on a tomb with no grave A jagged whisperer, an icy brace Your heart beats loud, but not for long Run, run, but your feet won't move The darkness wraps its chains around you I said grin forms in the blackest shade Time runs out, and so will your veins The bells don't toll; the clocks don't chime Only the sound of the end of time Your Shadow melts your hands turn cold The nightmare sings as it takes hold I'm sorry to say, but this is the end Your breath is stolen; no need to pretend A door creaks open; the void

I had failed her, despite promising myself that I wouldn't let her cry. My mood soured and I felt shittier than before. “Let's sleep.” She nudged, trying to place my back on the bed. I resisted. “Damon,” she sighed. “What if I have another nightmare?” I had had five nightmares in two days. I didn't think closing my eyes was a luxury I wanted to engage in anymore. It was as if the demons in my subconscious lurked around nearby, ready to yank me into darkness anytime I let down my guard and closed my eyes.

Love and fear coexisted, stronger than death’s decree, a fight that must continue, whether by choice or fate. Meanwhile… Lila jolted awake, her scream shattering the night’s stillness. Sweat-drenched sheets twisted around her legs as she kicked them free, gasping for air in the pitch-black room, save for the faint crimson glow seeping from the nightstand drawer. Repairs had been made to keep it shut—a defense against the nightmares it held. The visions felt too real, as past and future collided into a single nightmarish timeline that unraveled her reality.

The sky was streaked with pink and orange streaks when they fell asleep exhausted wrapped together every secret between them expunged forever. A few weeks later a summons arrived for the Council Leaders, they were ordered to attend another meeting at Mafia Headquarters to discuss their ongoing ‘problems’. It was in two days and Juliette was hit by nightmares that night as the memories returned and Romero found it difficult to bring her out of them, they seemed to last during the day as well. She would wake up exhausted after her sleep had been disturbed several times and it caused her to fall asleep during the day, she seemed to drop straight back into the nightmare and her pitiful screams e

“Please, stop looking like her.” Nyxara tilts her head, studying me with my mother’s face. “But it’s always worked before.” Rage flares hot and bright in my chest. “Not this time.” Something ugly flashes in her eyes. The air snaps. Nyxara lifts one delicate finger and flicks it downward. The arena answers. The floor splits open with a wet, tearing sound, and the darkness beneath it moves. Nightmares crawl up through the cracks, dozens of them, hundreds, dragging themselves into the light like puppets yanked forward by invisible strings.

Afterwards I decide to go back upstairs and rest for the remainder of the evening. Night falls, and with it a thunderstorm stirs up. Lightening cracks and for some reason outside of my bedroom, I swear I see sinister red eyes peering in at me. Feel like it must be the exhaustion of the day. I close the blinds, turn on N*****x. I feel dread again as a precaution. I make sure the house is locked up with the deadbolts he installed. I also lock my room to make sure I am extra safe. I snuggle up with a blanket and put on the TV. I change my mind about N*****x and put on “Discovery of Witches” on A****n Prime. Wishing I could find a man like Matthew.

NEAH Three days before the assault. The packhouse is full of warriors from four packs. Every room occupied. Every hallway buzzing with tense energy. Plans. Strategies. Weapons being sharpened. Wolves preparing for war. I can't sleep. The nightmares are back but different now. Not the car crash anymore. Now I dream of the compound. Serum wolves with blank eyes and twisted limbs. Golden light erupting from my hands and destroying everything around me. Friend and enemy alike, burning in the same fire.

“Poor puppy. Why have you not said anything about this…?” Cameron shrugged and reached out, cupping her shoulders and stroking down the rounds of her arms, to her hands, and linking their fingers, his eyes on the contrast of her white, smooth skin against the work-roughened callouses of his. “I have dreams… Nightmares,” he corrected himself. “Blood and gore, horror sort of nightmares. Moments from Haven Farm, or getting shot… Or Heath covered in blood, Rhett chained to the wall… Stomach-churning nightmares.” His skin prickled with sweat just recalling them.