Roommate Nightmares Novels & Stories

She then noticed all of the people in red robes huddled up right in front of her, they were chanting what seemed to be phrases in a language she couldn’t understand. April Rose screamed and wailed at the top of her lungs, but for some reason, her voice seemed to be a muffled sound. The chanting became louder and faster. Eventually, with a blood-curdling scream, she woke up trembling in horror and sweating profusely. It took her a moment to realize everything was just a product of another nightmare and that she was safe. She knew it was a nightmare, but it was the exact same nightmare that she’s been having, with the exception of the people clad in red robes in the final moments. She quickly

Nate's concerned voice reached my ears, and I clung to him, needing his comfort to chase away the lingering terror of my nightmare. "Is it the same nightmare?" Nate asked gently, his worry etched across his face. I nodded, unable to find the words to describe the horrors that haunted my dreams. Nightmares like these had plagued me ever since I experienced that profound loss. Nate understood and wisely chose not to pry further. He knew that when these nightmares struck, I needed some space to gather my thoughts and emotions. I got out of bed and began to pace around our room, trying to dispel the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to my mind. Nate remained still, giving me the solitud

He replied, "So, this is what the third rule is all about? You've been suffering from nightmares all this time, and you never thought to mention it to me?" His question caught me off guard. I couldn't help but wonder what good it would do to tell him about my nightmares. After all, he couldn't do anything to stop them, could he? I thought to myself. So, I responded, "It's not worth mentioning. Besides, according to our rule, you shouldn't have entered my room." I could see he was offended by my response, "I was worried about you. Seeing you trembling like this, don't try to act cool like you always do. You don't have to put up a front in front of me. We're roommates, and roommates are suppos

Chapter 4 (Mason's POV) So, here we are. A week has passed already, and surprisingly we managed to not kill each other. But I will be honest with you. Each night since our first night like roomies I had weird dreams. Ok they were not so weird. But they were sure hot as hell and gave me a massive hard on each morning. Thank God Rachel wasn't an early riser as it seems, since I never saw her in the morning. This morning was no different.

Roommate 1: (Raised his head) COME ON CARL STOP THAT! That's when the roommate noticed that no one was awake in their room other than himself. Everyone was sound asleep, unmoving in their beds. And he could easily see in the darkness due to the streetlights' glow filtering through the window... The ball dribbling by itself! … Roommate 1: *insert screaming-like-a-girl sound effects here* Yes, you’re right, dear reader... When his roommates woke up due to his terrible screaming, the ball dribbling stopped. It turns out that someone has been playing with Carl’s basketball in the early morning for a while, and even Carl and the other roomies have seen it too.

They turned out to be more nightmares than beautiful dreams with the whole thing turning out to be nothing but a game to him and I being left with nothing but humiliation and memories of his beautiful smiles and smooth words. The next morning, I woke up in a worse mood than the night before with my head suddenly developing a sort of throbbing on the side and my room remaining devoid of my two temporal roommates who apparently were still out there, probably sleeping soundly under some bar table or if they were lucky enough, nursing their hangovers in another one of the many lodge rooms with their fellow party goers.

Other coworkers did ask if I was alright. Well, was I alright? Soon, night time came, and I was home. Back to the place that didn't feel like home anymore. I'd lost whatever comfort I used to enjoy. Now my home was a house of horror. What bothered me the most was not how alone I now felt without my roommate. Rather, it was about my evil twin. I'd try to tell myself that it had just been a nightmare. But as my eyes glanced past what used to be a house for Sam triple zero eight, the somber thought soon transformed to reality. My roommate had been murdered by my evil twin.

•.• Skylar •.• “I’m Room 16,” Harper said, staring at her phone. “Queens Hall.” She looked up at me. The school had sent out details of students’ dorm rooms and every other vital piece of information through email. “What room are you?” she asked, and I pursed my lips, staring down at my phone. “Room 17…” I was interrupted when Harper shrieked and threw her arms around me. “Our rooms will be right next to each other!” she grinned, and I cocked my head to the side.

I yell internally, rummaging through my bag on the center table. “Hey Leo, chill.” The voice speaks and every fiber of my body does everything but chill. The stops on their ends, pulsating, vibrating… “I’m not fucking Leo, I’m your roommate.” The light flicks on to reveal my roommate in all his glory. Buff with veined arms and a left arm filled with a tattoo sleeve, in a singlet and basketball shorts that have rent where his legs meet. A result of him strolling another man’s cock. Mine twitches in response to my thoughts.

His hand in the frame holding a beer. I stared at the picture so long my eyes burned. Mom leaned over. “Who’s that?” I flipped the phone face-down too fast. “Just… Dante. My roommate. Checking in.” She smiled—too knowing. “Tell him he’s welcome here next year if he wants. Nobody should be alone for the holidays.” I swallowed. “Yeah. I’ll tell him.” Later that night, after everyone went to bed, I sat on my childhood twin mattress staring at the ceiling glow-in-the-dark stars I’d stuck up in middle school.