Nightmare Puppets Novels & Stories

Nia's POV I flopped onto my bed with a groan, burying my face in the pillow. The pit in my stomach twisted tighter with every second. I wasn’t sure if it was guilt or fear, probably both. Maybe I should’ve just gone in and pretended everything was fine, even though it clearly wasn’t. But pretending was exhausting. And I was tired. So, so tired.

~*~ Vampires don't dream or have nightmares because our sleep is like death, but I had a nightmare that night which had me shooting straight up in bed and trying to swallow down my terror. In this nightmare, Oni and I were on the path leaving the Mother's hut, except this time Oni was in human form. We were running from demons, Wraiths, and spirits. My stomach was so big that it was difficult to run, but I had to run because they didn't want me. They wanted my baby. Vines sprang up onto the path. They grabbed me, slithering around my ankle, up my leg, and around my belly, suspending me in mid-air. I screamed when I saw that the vine was forcing me off the path!

Hilbert paused for a while, before asking, “Lady Marina, what kind of puppet do you mean? Isn't it a doll puppet? Or do you have something in mind?” He inquired, looking a bit confused but he does seem to have the means. I smiled and said unhurriedly, "A puppet made by a witch, I prefer a the size of a kid. A puppet that is suitable for an elemental spirit.” There, I put all my intentions and requests. I'm not afraid of him reporting me to the church or anything. Nobles are known for having quite bizarre hobbies and secrets. I look at him calmly.

Valerie said as she shuddered. "Yeah. Well, let me get back out there while these are cooking. Don't worry, Val, I'll be careful if that guy comes back in here." "Alright, girl. I'll talk to you later." Tabitha wasn’t going to tell Valerie about the dreams involving Mark. Those were the real nightmares. They had evolved from just him raping her after being with the man she couldn’t see. There were several where he forced himself on her. She shuddered as she thought about those. That was part of her past that she didn’t care to remember.

he muttered, "What we'd just killed, was a Corpse Puppet; the strongest of all puppets that could be animated. It is an abomination of extreme evil, being constructed by a still-living person. That very Puppet carried at least two decades of grudge in it, hence its unimaginable sturdiness." He heard astonished gasps and hushed murmurs rising from within the company now peering at him. But he was hardly surprised by their reactions; most, if not all, of the company were young elites of the present world. It was only understandable that they had not heard of such a diabolical contrivance from the mouths of their elders. "Amitabha... Very well... Never have I ever imagined that anyone could be

As he spoke, he stood between the last pair of statues, and what happened next was a familiar cracking sound and scene. Two puppets emerged from the statues, charging at an incredible speed. The speed created a sound as they cut through the air. A chilling intent filled the air before they could even reach him. “Overlord’s Return!” Andrius swung his spear as usual, the tip striking the two rapidly approaching puppets. However, he was shocked at their recoil. “Oh?” Those two puppets had reached the strength of the Hollow stage. Although it was only at the early stage, their unique structure and lack of fear of pain or death made them difficult to deal with, and it was a problem.

the soft voice of her mother echoed from within, pulling her even deeper. Willa’s hand inched closer… “Mom…” she sobbed. “Touch the mirror… touch the mirror,” the puppets chanted, their smiles stretched like bent wires. “I love you, Willa,” the voice said. “I… hate you.” Willa snapped, and her eyes flashed as she locked eyes with the puppet. “Gotcha,” she smiled. And just then the puppets screamed… their cries echoed hauntingly. “No… no!” the crippled puppet cried, but it was too late. Willa had figured it out.

His eyes were not wild with hunger; they were glazed over, completely white, as if his soul had been scooped out. "They are not rogues," I whispered, horror rising in my throat. "They are vessels," the Ancient whispered back. "Failed experiments. Morvanna did not send an army of soldiers. She sent a pack of puppets." I watched as the creature slashed at my father. My father parried the blow easily, his sword cutting deep into the attacker’s chest. A normal wolf would have howled in pain. A normal wolf would have fallen or retreated. The puppet did not make a sound. It did not even flinch. It simply raised its weapon again, the purple veins on its neck bulging as if something else was pumping

Bad. Cash and I were the only ones that survived the Nightmare from our family. Mom and Dad were already sick by the time the vampires came to our home to 'save' us. The vamps were only there for me. They had found out about my IQ and wanted my brain to join them. I had insisted that they saved my brother as well. I may have made it a deal breaker.

I sliced them into pieces while they were still alive, exchanging their limbs with each other while pumping them full of chemicals created by the Nightmare Master. I do not know what they will do since no one has survived long enough, and keeping them around would just be a nuisance. I should kill them. My gaze went over to the chemicals on the counter; more than a couple of them would react with the chemicals I had pumped inside them. It would be a lot better than them becoming the nightmare master’s pets. I should know; I am one of his pets, though I guess I’m more like a puppet. At least that's what Siren calls us.