Nightmare Puppets Novels & Stories

"Because in that game, I was just a pawn your father used to strike at the Shaw family while making his disobedient daughter finally give up hope. "He had you find me, trap me with love and cheap tenderness, and finally turn me into a worthless nobody who couldn't survive without you. That way, he could humiliate the Shaw family and me, and show you how fragile your so-called love really was. Too bad he miscalculated." I looked down at her from above. "He never imagined that the pawn he'd sharpened with his own hands would one day turn around and completely overturn his entire game." Tiffany collapsed to the ground. I did not spare her another glance and walked straight into the glittering b

Their eyes didn't shift to the glow of the wolf; they turned black, void of any light, void of any soul. They were no longer the wolves I knew. They were Zombie Wolves—puppets of flesh and fur driven by a singular, homicidal directive. Foam dripped from their jowls, black as tar, hissing as it hit the floorboards. "Back to back! Protect my son!" Nash roared.

In order to stay alive, Abner and Alaric defended against the puppet, but their battle stretched across a day and a night without any signs of progress. Instead, their spiritual energy reserves were dwindling dangerously low, hence their mounting apprehension. The corpse puppet had spent over half a month relentlessly slaughtering practitioners and civilians in Eastplain, which led to an increase in its intelligence and power. The puppet grinned menacingly. "You are both very resilient. Your deaths are the perfect offerings for the flag!" No sooner had it spoken than the corpse puppet materialized before Abner. Clouded in a dense, dark green, poisonous mist, the puppet had virtually teleport

Mom pulled my attention and noticed my body was visibly trembling, still shaken from the nightmares that plagued me. There were four of them now. Two of them were already dead. It is completely unknown to me whether or not Burson is still alive. Nonetheless, they still manage to make me suffer even with their absence. While the other one was still alive, whose pair of dark orbs were staring at me intently as though I would disappear from his sight at any given moment. A multitude of emotions was starting to flood me, to the point I didn’t know which one I would listen to. Mom said I am safe, but I’m still not.

That once untouchable Crownpoint mafia empire collapsed overnight. … I went to see Dante once in that dungeon-like room of the psychiatric facility. His head was shaved, and he wore an oversized hospital gown. His limbs were strapped to the bed. His eyes were vacant, and he kept mumbling to himself. "Chiara, don't be afraid. You've got me. Chiara, you're mine." Over and over, he repeated those lines. I watched him for a long time through the thick bulletproof glass. Then, I turned and walked away.

[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.

I couldn't imagine how these two alphas didn't have a go at each other. "Of course. To embrace the animal makes us inhuman. He has his primal instincts now. He is dominant and wild. We're going to have him tamed again. We have such a bright specimen, it would be a waste of government resources otherwise, do you not agree?" Dr. Dawson put his hand against the wall and the specimen stimulated immediately. His low growl immediately turned into a roar as he charged against the wall. He rammed himself into the window so hard that I flinched wondering if it would crack. Seeing, there wasn't even a crack, he shoved his face against the glass blinders as much as he could see. His eyes twit

Not in full form—but in twisted, shadow-wrapped husks. Council magic reanimating fallen warriors into monstrous puppets. I froze for half a heartbeat. And then I screamed, “Fall back! Regroup!” We scattered. Killian dragged two injured wolves back into cover. Lira and Corwin flanked the rear, hurling saltfire grenades that exploded with bursts of silver light. But it wasn’t enough. The puppets kept coming. Their movements were wrong. Jerky. Unnatural. And they didn’t bleed. They fed. One latched onto a young Moonbound wolf, sinking shadow-tendrils into her chest. Her scream chilled my bones.

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."

I doubted my sanity would remain intact if I were to be left on my own. We all sat in the cozy living room, surrounded by plush cushions and soft blankets. My three best friends; Layla, Janelle, and Sofia, as well as Alyssa, my sister-in-law, flanked me on the large couch, while Alfredo and Alvida, my parents-in-law, sat on a couch opposite ours. The room was bathed in the warm, afternoon sunlight, but no amount of light could erase the darkness that still clung to my very being. I took a deep breath and looked at them, my voice shaky as I spoke. "I've been having these recurring nightmares,"