Nightmares Poems Novels & Stories

Raat ki khamoshi raas nahi aati Meri parchayi bhi ab mere paas nahi aati Aati hai to bas aapki yaad, Jo aakar ek pal bhi mujhse door nahi jati" (I don't like the silence of the night Even my shadow doesn't come near me, If comes, I only remember you Who comes and does not go away from me even for a moment) Anaya, I miss you please come back - I thought. I messed my hairs which were already messed up, I rubbed my forehead with my fingers. It's not new for me as I usually gets nightmares while sleeping. I got up from my bed and went to do my morning chores, its sunday so no office.

After three back-to-back nights of working until 3:00 am, I dropped dead. Honestly, I thought it was a relief and that my 23 years of corporate misery had finally come to a blissful end. But when I opened my eyes, I found myself transmigrated into a horror game. Right now, I was sitting in a classroom. A hanging ghost dangled from the blackboard, and its long tongue was dragging across the floor. A jumper ghost was doing a handstand on the desk with its eyeballs stretched six feet out of their sockets.

CHAPTER 18. HAUNTED BY MY NIGHTMARES HARA LUCID NIGHTMARES. That's what they call it. Because in the nightmare I'm having at the moment, I'm aware that I'm dreaming, that I'm having another nightmare. And they weren't just any random nightmares, they were a reoccurrence of my past with Roland. *

“For some, I guess I would. Sweetheart, this is not something I would want to bring you into, but I have no other choice.” “I get that. Always trying to protect me. However, this time I think I need to know so I can help you. Something is clearly bothering you.” She said as she looked into the golden pools of his eyes, and she almost forgot why he was there. She had to shake her head, and she knew she could not get distracted by his eyes and the wonders contained in them. “This is not something that is normal, either.” He stated as he looked at her. “A nightmare.”

There's a monster at my door. I hear it all the time. This hissing of its breath. The scratching of its claws. Rapping its knuckles on wood. Knock, knock, knock. There's a monster at my door. It wears the face of my mother. It wears the face of many. It smiles to deceive, to trick, but its teeth are needles, razor-sharp and tipped with poison. I see them. I see. There's a monster at my door.

she whispered quietly as she looked around the room. The curiosity and concern overwhelmed me as I looked at my longtime friend. I leaned in close to her and asked just as quietly, “What is it?” “Well,” she began taking another look around the room before continuing. “I have been having dreams as well but not of Laylan, or unicorns, or fairies, or anything like that. I always thought that maybe I just had multiple personalities and the other happened to be a man named Daemon. But recently, I have been dreaming dreams as if they were his memories or something,” she stopped and looked at me.

lol◉‿◉. Sadly, we've come to the end of "A Stripper's Nightmare". Can I know your favorite scene from the book?]

And as I drifted into a fitful sleep, I couldn't help but wonder if Elliot's silence on the matter was born out of fear, a fear we both shared, a fear of the unfathomable horrors that lurked just beneath the surface. The nightmares began that night, as I was plunged into a realm of eerie darkness and foreboding. In my dreams, I found myself standing by the same lake, its tranquil surface marred by an unsettling stillness. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an ethereal glow upon the water's edge.

Dreams, fragmented and fleeting, danced at the edges of my awareness, their meaning eluding me as I struggled to find solace in the darkness of the night. But even as sleep threatened to claim me, a nagging sense of unease persisted, gnawing at the edges of my consciousness like a relentless beast. Images, disjointed and surreal, flickered in the recesses of my mind, each one a haunting reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

With a heavy heart, i realized what she was trying to convey. "I don't sleep," I said, my words filled with a haunting truth that sent a shiver down my spine. "My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented." As she stared , i felt a surge of empathy wash over me, a deep understanding of the demons that haunted her every waking moment. I knew all too well the torment of restless nights plagued by nightmares, the fear of losing oneself to the darkness within. "They said all dreams do come true," she continued, writing on her book. "They forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams too."