Poem Nightmare Novels & Stories

Faith's Pov: I woke with a gasp, my chest tight as if I had just run a marathon in my sleep. The nightmares were relentless, plaguing my every dream. I hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since I was a child. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I was pulled into a nightmare that felt too real, too vivid. I blinked rapidly, my gaze falling to the alarm clock next to my bed. Three in the morning. Of course. I groaned in frustration, flopping back down onto my pillow, my body a tangled mess of frustration and exhaustion.

NIGHTMARES. A very bad or frightening dream. Anna was starting to lose count of the number of nightmares she’s been having since Josh’s death but whenever she woke up with one, clearing her head with a jog had been working well on her. She lets out a sigh as she turns sideways to stare at the mini alarm clock she had next to her bed. The time read 6:00 am and she hated the fact that she had to be awake at this early hour of the day.

Aidana and her mate. Sucking in a breath, I brave the read. If you're unlucky enough, a nightmare may not be just within your mind. It may lurk in the shadows, reside in the darkest part of your mind. However, in our Moon Goddesses life, the nightmare is the biggest part of it. Her mate.

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 mystery, leaving her yearning for ans

[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.

Casey stepped out of her chamber, her heart still pounding from the vivid nightmare that had jolted her awake in the early hours of the morning. The dream had been hauntingly realistic, filled with ominous imagery and an overwhelming sense of foreboding. As she made her way through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, the sound of her footsteps drowned in the vast expanse, consumed by the whirlwind of thoughts storming through her mind. The weight of her haunting dream pressed against her soul, bearing down upon her like an invisible burden she couldn't shake off. Desperately, she wished it was merely a figment of her imagination, a fragment of her subconscious playing tricks on her weary

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

He’s a demon. Clean and tormented by my own thoughts, I dry off and stare at the filthy uniform that’s crumpled on the floor. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at it the same let alone putting it back on. This place harbors two-timing, grudge holding morons. And maybe even demons. Carden’s nightmareless touch sends a chill through my body. I refuse to think about it. Maybe, I’ve found a fluke. A way around the nightmares. One just has to be on the verge of death.

If they tried to go back and fix it again, they would surely whimper with blood on their hands. I experienced that catastrophe. I lost almost everyone in the process and until now, I still can't heal myself from those terrors. That’s why I did my best for my people not to experience it. Nightmare was just a word, but once one dug deeper to seek it’s real definition, it would be similar to a living hell. It could cause endless torments, moans of grief and sorrow, and despair that nobody wanted to have.

"What's with that look? You're just a waste of space who doesn't even know who his own parents are. You should be grateful Tiffany even looked at you, yet you dare throw a tantrum?" Another one of his friends joined in with a mocking laugh, flicking away his cigarette and grinding it under his toe. "Tiffany, let me be real with you… If you weren't so set on playing this childish game of house, we wouldn't even look at this roach motel." I lowered my eyes, staring at the worn floor beneath my feet where the concrete showed through. The water stains on the ceiling looked like an abstract map, and the bathroom faucet that could never be fixed.