Nightmares Stories Novels & Stories

Mommy used to tell me that Nightmare is an evil spirit formerly thought to oppress people while they were sleeping. It causes people to experience bad things in their dreams. Yuan used to get annoyed whenever I cry and wet the bed because I had a bad dream. Mom and Dad will come to me and let me sleep in their room.

Her thoughts drifted into the treacherous realm of her own nightmares, which had morphed into a nightmarish ordeal of their own. These dreams were insidiously becoming more vivid, more nightmarish, as though the universe had conspired to transform her nights into an unending reel of terror. Each night, it was the same haunting scenario that played out with relentless persistence: the pleading eyes of an unknown figure, the thunderous echo of gunshots that tore through her consciousness, and the paralyzing sense of despair that gripped her very soul. These nocturnal horrors had become a prisoner of her mind, relentlessly ransacking her peace.

Jess sat up right and once more it was pitch black, that’s when jess understood what this was. “My nightmares.” Jess whispered, her voiced echoed in the darkness, but it was as if Jess had just said the key for everything to explode. Every single one of her bad memories, jumped out of the dark, young Jess sitting with her dead mother, trying to clean her wound, hoping she will wake up if Jess just keeps pressure on it. Her Father chasing her, beating her, screaming at her. Her beast tormenting her once again. All the Jess’s, the young ones or the older ones, each one of them that cried out in pain as they were being cut, burned or beaten, each Jess that was ever told how she should just die,

The boy is having a nightmare. I want to help. I want to wake him up. I want to flip him over so his nose is not in the pillow. But I couldn't do anything. I have been watching him for forty-one nights. His mother tucks him in at eight-thirty. She reads one story—always the one about the rabbit who gets lost and finds his way home. She kisses his forehead. She turns on the star-shaped nightlight. She closes the door, but leaves it open just a crack so the hallway light spills in like a promise.

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.

“They are blanks. A place you wouldn’t want to be lost in. Dream paralysis, fake awakening, lucid dreaming… things one couldn’t even think of. Those spaces are filled with what lies between death and sleep, sleep and awakening, dream and nightmares, fake and reality. Stay away from them even if you have to lose a limb, for if you are caught, there is no escape. Whirlpools that lead nowhere, but can make you feel as if you are traveling around the world. They are the blanks between nothingness and somethingness.” I gulped, peering at the dreamcatcher. “You said the world is building itself based on our nightmares,” Asashi said. “So, will we encounter just our nightmares?” “No. You can be in a

Nyra It took me two days—and way too much late-night scrolling—to find anything solid about Fantasies. Most of what I found online was vague, broken, or so cryptic it might as well have been written in Morse code. People online just kept repeating the same thing: It’s not for everyone. Which, of course, made me want it more. I was huddled in the break room, elbows on the table, completely absorbed in a thread called “What really happens at Fantasies,” when a voice cut through the silence.

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

😂❤️ I’ve decided to make the chapters in each collection longer so you can spend more time with the characters, experience the tension, get more steamy moments, uncover the secrets, and really get lost inside every story. So please… keep your toes up! 👀😂🔥 Because I may have added a few twists here and there that you definitely weren’t expecting. 😏🌚🖤 Just when you think you understand what is happening… I might turn everything upside down. 👀💀 I want Dark Tales of Midnight to be the kind of book that makes you say, “Okay, just one more chapter…” and then suddenly realize it’s 2 a.m. 😂😭🌙

Even after the moon waned and night turned to day, I continued to bite my nail, waiting for news from my mate but as the hours went by and I heard nothing, my anticipation and anxiety continued to mount. “I’m sure he is fine,” Beth said. “You should rest, Channy. Think of your baby.” Despite my mind being alert, I couldn’t deny the fact that my body was tired so I let her lead me to the only room in the sanctuary and coax me to sleep. With time, I could not keep my eyes open and the nightmares started. I had terrible nightmares on repeat. It was either I died or my mate died. In every dream where I died, I saw Dahlia towering above me, her eyes filled with malice as she stabbed into my stoma