Nightmare Visions Novels & Stories

Then more white light. I see shadows running across stone floors. I see people screaming. I see blood spreading across the ground. My breathing becomes wild and uneven. “What is happening?!” I cry. But the visions do not stop. They grow stronger. More intense. I see a large hall filled with warriors. I see banners hanging from tall walls. I see wolves shifting and fighting. Then another flash. A woman running through a burning corridor. Her face is blurred but she looks terrified. Behind her I hear loud crashing sounds.

Nyx let out a piercing shriek, not like a bird, but like an infant being dismembered alive. I saw the beautiful blood-red light being forcibly stripped from him, dissipating into black smoke. His black feathers fell out in clumps, revealing raw, bloody skin beneath. My heart felt like it was being torn apart by the same spell, the pain was unbearable. But my face remained expressionless. I simply carved this pain, this hatred, into the very marrow of my bones. I watched the life I created, the symbol of our past, being tormented, devoured, and consumed by the “pure blood” that represented his new alliance, his new mate.

Flames reflected in my eyes. I crawled, screaming his name again and again, even though I knew the truth. That no one could survive that. I reached the burning wreckage and clawed at it helplessly even as the heat scorched me. “Please, PLEASE SOMEONE—” My voice cracked horribly. “Dominic answer me, please…” But there was no answer, and then, before I could touch the wreckage again the vision dissolved. “No more.” My voice was hoarse. Broken. But the mirror didn’t stop. A third vision surged forward, pulling me into another nightmare, another reality.

“Go away, both of you. You are parts of who I am, but you are not the whole.” The different versions of Jeannine looked confused, then turned questioningly to Cassandra. “Eyes front, ladies,” said Jeannine. “I’m the one talking to you both. Fuck off. Now.” The images faded. Cassandra looked angry. “Mama, for the last couple of days I’ve been experiencing visions—seeing things like I did after Katrina. I’m sick of it, I’m sick of the visions, and I’m sick of you and Papa Nightmare and whoever else is playing in my head.”

he asks me, furrowing my eyebrows and taking another step towards me. Then, at that moment, a scream escapes from the depths of my throat as I cower and, millisecond after the fact, a grouping of images begins to streak before my eyes. I see the fear specialists killing Belasko, the main product that Angel and Sasha watched in the copyist's night, and a group of crows advancing from inside his chest; Sassa in her room, totally terrified and trying to close her ceiling window before a hand yanks the seat she's on; I see fear specialists appearing in Dark Potland and passing by the Angels' vehicle while they're stuck in trouble; each of the young people who grabbed and transformed in their exa

Third-Person POV The visions were getting worse. Kane sat by the river, gripping his head, his fingers trembling. Ever since his mother had returned, something inside him had shifted. The power that had always been there, lingering beneath the surface, was growing stronger. More unstable. And the dreams… they were unbearable. He saw fire. He saw wolves screaming, packs torn apart, shadows with burning red eyes swallowing the land whole. And always, he saw her. His mother, standing alone at the center of the chaos. Falling.

The clock struck 1 am, adding to her despair. Feeling lost and overwhelmed, she crouched down beside a sleek black car and unraveled into sobs. It had been an unsettling night, filled with one of her usual nightmares that had left her sleep-deprived and disoriented. Whenever she woke up from the terrifying dreams, snippets of different scenarios flickered before her eyes. Some involved a haunting accident, while others featured a pulsating club party. The visions overlapped in her mind, creating an indistinguishable mess that she couldn't shake off.

His dreams were haunted by vivid, tormenting visions. In his dreams, he saw Peyton and Ava as he had observed them through the camera, making love in the shower. They were happy, completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to his existence. The dream twisted, morphing into a nightmarish version where Peyton and Ava began to taunt him, their loving gestures turning into cruel mockery. As they continued their intimate embrace, they hurled words of scorn and derision at him, echoing the harsh comments of the dominatrixes from his sessions.

Eleanor's POV The nightmares didn’t relent. Night after night, they clawed at me, vivid and merciless, peeling back layers of truth I hadn’t been ready to face. The pain was a constant now, a dull ache that throbbed in my chest and temples, but I’d grown accustomed to it, numbed by the burning need to uncover the full details of the betrayal surrounding me. Each vision was a rough piece of a puzzle, and by the third night, the picture was complete, its edges sharp enough to draw blood. I woke that morning with the taste of anger on my lips, the echo of thunder still rumbling in my skull, and a clarity that felt both liberating and suffocating.

“How do you know?” Raven’s eyes glowed faintly with reflected aurora. “Because she’s calling for me.” --- Global Dreamspace — Nightmare Bloom Shadows rose like smoke along the horizon, their forms shifting, trembling with human fear. Nightmares made manifest. Faces twisted by guilt. Memories stained by wounds. Traumas long buried clawing their way into the shared dream. Sophia stepped forward. “No — not like this.” The nightmares surged, not malicious, but desperate — the unprocessed pain of billions seeking release all at once.