Nightmares Novels & Stories

Her heart pounded in her chest, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to her like a suffocating fog. The room was bathed in an ethereal light as Luna realized it was all just a dream, a twisted creation of her fearful imagination. Yet, the remnants of the nightmare lingered, leaving her trembling with the weight of a reality she couldn't fully comprehend. As Luna sat there, breathless and tormented, trying to process the horror that had unfolded in her subconscious mind, she couldn't escape the pervasive feeling that there was more to her nightmares than meets the eye. The secrets of her past, the tragic fate of her mother, clung to her like a shroud of myste

his voice was calm yet sombre. “Nightmare as in a bad dream?” “Bad dreams were named after nightmares, Callista. They are spirits who torment dreamers, feeding off of the terror they create.” “And he works for your brother?” I turned to face him and looked into his eyes, making my mind up to confront him about everything that had been on my mind over the past few weeks. “Morpheus, you need to explain everything to me. You can’t leave me in the dark anymore, not when nightmares are attacking me and women wake up from a coma to tell me you’re in danger and need my help.”

She was never going to surrender to him; he bought her, but he couldn't buy her life. She was going to make sure she made his life a living nightmare. She was going to make him regret ever buying her and let her go. Yes, he was going to release her himself when he got tired of her. She grinned; he didn't know what he bought. He had just purchased a nightmare, and that nightmare was hers.

I had been hounded by nightmares, gnarled reflections of everything I feared most and everything that made me insecure. I had tossed and turned, my mind conjuring up dark scenarios where Alpha Blake turned his back on me, leaving me alone to face the unknown threats lurking around us. Shadows danced in my dreams, faces I couldn't quite recognize but felt an unsettling familiarity with. Nora's smirking visage haunted me the most, a constant reminder of the betrayal I felt brewing.

The nightmare was worse than usual. It wasn't just fragments this time; it was a full, suffocating reel. The dusty carpet smell, the crushing weight, the paralyzing fear—it was so vivid he woke up choking on a scream, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The digital clock on his bedside table glowed a merciless 2:17 AM.

MY HEAD WAS IN pain because it felt like someone was pulling my mind tighter and tighter, and if they didn't let go soon, it was going to snap. I couldn't do anything about it either since I was still under the nightmare Master’s control, performing for these rich socialites or should I say sadistic assholes. Well, I'm not performing that is the job for the freaks that the night remaster sends me. What Doc doesn't realize is that his ability works, and where most of them are freaks, the nightmare master can't stand the sight of, since they are useless. So he sends them here to perform for these assholes.

I said, brushing away strands of hair from my face. "Nightmares do not make wolves sound like they're dying. This…sounded as though you were fighting for your life. Tell me, what was it?" His expression stiffened as his brows pulled into a frown. I looked at him, but the look in his eyes told me he would not let this go. I sighed and shifted against the bed while he settled beside me. "Would you believe me if I told you some nightmares are memories?” Dominic's brows knitted together in confusion.

[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.

Ever since I was a kid, I noticed a pattern: I made a wish, my adopted sister got double. She stole everything from me. Even my biological mother treated her like royalty. Until her 99th pool party show-off. I stopped playing the silent, good girl. I made a new wish. "I want a hot date with a wild 26-year-old rocker." The next day, a smelly 52-year-old ex-con stalked her and groped her right in our living room. I made another wish. "I want to lose 10 pounds." Mia worshipped her pristine Size 0 figure. A twenty-pound drop would kill her. My father dropped his dignity and fell to his knees by my heels, sobbing: "Please, stop wishing!" I looked down at him and smirked coldly: "I wish to forfeit

During the day, I lay on the bed with my eyes open, I don’t see anything, or feel anything, my mind, blank. Zayne lets me wallow in misery as long as I eat, I force myself to swallow the food else he doesn’t leave. I can’t think, I can’t sleep, I’m too scared to close my eyes, the guilt eats at my core draining every last bit of strength I have until I pass out and that’s when the nightmares come, it taunts me so darkly, so vivid. I wake up, screams at the back of my throat, half expecting to see the world painted red with blood. I hear my parents calling my name, asking me why. And I can’t face them, so I run. Not even being with Zayne prevents the

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