Poem Nightmare Novels & Stories

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.

“What the hell is going on in that mind of yours!?” “Cara stop pushing this!” “Then make me stop by telling me the—” “Your prayer worked!” Sweat is breaking out all over his forehead. “I had a nightmare, okay!? I took my sleeping pills, got myself drunk, and despite all that, I was still attacked by a fucking, terrific nightmare that made me wish I could just die and never come back!” My entire body instantly feels like a thunderbolt just hit me. Nightmare!? What is he talking about? My prayer?

It came as a reminder of the solitude that I had enveloped myself in for the past few days. My reflection seemed to question me, our eyes seeking answers to the questions that swirled in my head. The room was so quiet that I feared that breathing would disrupt it's appeal. I hesitated before breaking the silence, my voice a mere whisper as I addressed my reflection and the stark quiet. "It was just a dream," I whispered. It was my way of comforting myself. It was an attempt to erase the residual discomfort. Why did the night continue to unleash it's demons on me? Why did these demons linger even in the daylight? The nightmares clung to my sleep and replayed themselves over and over like ghos

Ronan's POV This has been an unrelenting nightmare. That is the only word for it. Nightmare. The kind that does not end when you open your eyes, the kind that follows you into waking and sits beside you through every hour of the day, patient and immovable, waiting for you to accept that this is not a dream you get to leave.

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

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. *

With no knowledge of which way to go, I hit something hard and I black out. The next thing I know I wake up screaming in my bed, I shiver uncontrollably as the dried sweat makes my hair stick to my head. The sheets tangled at the foot of the bed, but my heart beat is already slowing because I’m at home safe and secure from any of those monsters out there in the woods. It was just a nightmare. In all the 17 years of my life, that would have to be the scariest nightmare I have ever had. I know I can’t go back to sleep after having a nightmare like that, so I get my phone out and check the time, its 2 in the morning I still have 5 hours until I have to get up. What am I going to do? I figure I

No, a puzzle, but somehow a clue, that goes like this. "Don’t you remember those happy voices in your mind as you sleep? Or maybe the screams you hear of terror in a nightmare. What is a nightmare? Isn’t a nightmare a small prison you’re trapped in, with no hopes of waking? Why? Because you never know you’re asleep. You forget everything, your name, your life, and who you are. The only thing to accompany you are the monsters that laugh in your mind, that taunt you, knowing everything. Your life, your happiness, everything that had been stolen away. But the scariest part of the nightmare won’t be the monsters. They aren’t scary themselves. The most fearful thing of all is that they are yours.

Some wishes are so hard to be fulfilled that we either lose our lives or our hopes while chasing after them. Some dreams are not less than a nightmare, yet we want to see them over and over again, trying to win over our fears just one time. By the time I open my eyes, it seemed as everything that happened last night was just a nightmare. I opened my eyes and found myself in his comfortable bed, he was nowhere in the sight. As I laid down in silence with my eyes staring at the ceiling, I recalled the what happened last night and how I failed the ritual.