Nightmare Sans Novels & Stories

So he decided to yell out and provoke them again. “Come on little girls and boys! Don’t you wanna-” His taunt was cut short as his body suddenly burst open in a cloud of blood and guts. A split second later, the distinctive CRACK of a supersonic shockwave swept through the air around them. All of the goons immediately ducked behind cover out of fear and panic even as their dead comrade was still falling to the ground. “Heads down!” yelled Nightmare. “There’s a fuckin’ sniper out there!”

Stories of death—and worse than death. His throat went dry, as a chill raced up and down his spine. Papa fucking Nightmare is here. The pounding on the metal increased, becoming chaotic, frantic. Muffled, unintelligible voices mixed with animalistic hisses and snarls. The same sounds he’d heard from those zonbis ripping apart Bernstein’s SUV. Something—or more accurately—some things wanted in. “Why don’t you go out to the highway and play “hide and go fuck yourself”?” he replied and hit “end.”

I watch him pass me and note the lettering on the back of his cut. Nightmare Warriors.

"What about you? Why are you here?" Shawn let out a soft smile, "I also have nightmare disorder. But not level one. It's level two." "Really? Even I feel like it's unbearable every night. I don't know how you deal with level two. How do you bear it?" She asked shockingly. Her heart ached even thinking about his pain.

"Crazy?" Xanti asked. He wouldn't deny that he was also terrified when the conversation was about a ghost. "You can see his behaviors earlier, when he's speaking his eyes looking around and suddenly smile and when you entered I noticed him screaming outside," said Nash even though he was terrified. "What is he shouting?" They all asked. The three stopped shouting and started listening to them.. "My child....give my daughter back....Where is my daughter Casey?! Wait who is Casey hahahaha." They stopped when Nash suddenly did what the old man did earlier.

He continued to drive without being aware of an oncoming car, and due to the fast driving, their car was thrown on the road just as hard. ------ ''Dad!'' Gideon gets up soon after the nightmare. That was not a dream. It really happened ten years ago, yet it is still fresh in his mind. His head is still throbbing from the hangover. "Damn, my head," he mumbled as he gently arose from his slumber, and he was surprised when he turned his sight to the woman sleeping next to him. "Sucks, what did I do again?" He asks himself as he stands up and puts on his boxers and pants.

She doesn't like feeling weak. “Exactly. I am the Alpha of Nightmares. What is a common thing of nightmares?” he asked, his tone taking on a sinister quality as he leaned closer, claws starting to dig into my skin. “They are dark and terrifying?” I arched an eyebrow doing my best to maintain my bravado. I would not whimper for him. He obviously gets off on that shit.

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

I found myself in an unfamiliar bed, and it jolted me awake. The air was filled with the aroma of food. I looked around and found myself in a clean apartment. My clothes weren't changed, thank goodness. Someone texted me. Samuel. 'Working overtime tonight. Happy Valentine's Day, honey.' I scrolled through TikTok. Samuel probably had no idea that I knew his secret account's details. He had a short uploaded. That bastard was having fun with some ladies. They looked fresh and innocent. He had a good eye for them, I guess.

“Son of a bitch, “Dannie said in a sigh. She rested her forearms on her knees. With a slow, deep breath she waited until her heart finally caught on to the fact there was no danger. It was only a nightmare. Another fucking nightmare. As long as Dannie could remember, she had them. On a typical week, Dannie would suffer three to five nightmares. They were all similar in theme: death, mayhem, and suffering— all the good stuff. Though, she never actually had a nightmare with the deabru before. Usually, her nightmares were vague concepts and seemingly symbolic. The only time Dannie stopped having nightmares was when she was away from home. It was the negative energy thrown at her in this place,