Nightmares Poems Novels & Stories

But the nights brought with it more than just images of dead rats lying at my feet with houseflies perched all over the freshly slaughtered animal. With the nights came darkness and the nightmares that haunted me long after the night time. Flashes of the woman that had to be my mother and her beautiful voice saying the most horrid things to me, blotted out the last bit of hope I had in this world, my mother. Dawn turned to dusk and life had almost completely left me. I felt as the embers of my life faded and as hallucinations became a constant. I slipped from one nightmare to the next only to wake up to the worst of them of all, my reality.

“If I knew, I would fix it. I can’t stop getting enough blood. I feel like a bus ran over me. Literally, I feel like I was hit by a bus. Those dreams were so real, so powerful, and I can’t shake them, Alex. I never, ever, have had anything feel like this before. I woke up a pool of sweat and took a shower once already. I feel like a wreck, and all I can do is think about Amber.” “Wow, Dom, that is crazy. I didn’t realize that. I don’t think I have ever heard you say anything about dreaming before.” “No, I hadn’t. I had this vision, which sucked a lot of energy from me. I then fell asleep, which just became a trap. I was stuck in a wonderfully, erotic, real, intense, and I don’t have the word

Thank you so much for reading "Broken Nightmare"! The second book will be out in about April of 2021 and I can't wait to share it with you. Here is a sneak-peek so you can take a look! Chapter 1 I woke slowly with my head pounding, feeling very disoriented. It was pitch black in my room as I opened my eyes. I reached over to turn my bedroom lamp on, but felt nothing. Where was my lamp? And then it all came back flooding to me. Liam kidnapped. Claire and the pack missing. The imprint.

"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.

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.

she gasped, the pain cutting through her chest like a knife, yet no one answered her as she stumbled through the wreckage, shadows dancing as if mocking her grief. Suddenly, the dream shifted. Images of her morally ambiguous choices flashed before her—deceptions dressed as leadership, manipulations disguised as strategy. Every victory came with a price. A cry echoed through the air again, but this time it was her own, ringing like a bell through the suffocating silence as the nightmares enveloped her in a tangled web of guilt and sorrow.

Elliott's pain, the pack's distrust, the lingering phantom of a shadow in the hallway. Sleep came, but it offered no escape. As soon as I drifted off, my nightmares began. A familiar chill permeated the darkness, a scent of damp earth and fear. Whispers, accusing and venomous, coiled around me, tightening their grip, pulling me deeper into the abyss of my guilt and terror.

my own eyes will peel back whatever enemy yet hounds merciless. Their grave words sank into oblivion, no chance to grasp elusive meaning before sleep rolled inexorable over me. I hope this nightmare end.

I felt my own blood, hot and thick, gurgle in my throat as my vision tunneled into blackness. I jolted awake in my bed, my own strangled gasp echoing in the quiet room. My sheets were soaked with sweat, my heart hammering a frantic, terrified rhythm against my ribs. It was the third time this week. The nightmares were getting worse, more vivid, more creative. Last week, I had been burned alive, tied to a pyre while faceless chanted in a language I didn't recognize. The week before, I had drowned in a river of my own blood, unable to stop the flow from a wound in my gut that wouldn't heal.

But those dreams lay shattered now, scattered like shards of glass upon the cold, unyielding floor. For the night had passed, leaving nothing but emptiness in its wake. And she was left to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart, alone in the cold light of dawn. he night etched itself into her memory with an indelible, horrifying mark. It wasn't just memorable; it was a night that would haunt her for years to come, a night she would never be able to forget no matter how hard she tried.