Strange The Dreamer Novels & Stories

Noah I had a long, strange dream. At first, the world in my dream was white and empty. I stood alone. I searched for an exit. But there was no direction, no path. Only a bright, blinding white all around me. “Hello?” I called out. No answer. I heard only my own voice echoing through the void. I felt an overwhelming sense of confusion and loneliness. “Where am I?” I whispered. “What happened?” My heart pounded as I wandered aimlessly through the blank void. My thoughts were spiraling into an abyss of fear and uncertainty.

The room spun as I fought against the encroaching darkness, leaving me with an unanswered question and a sense of vulnerability in Emma's arms. Once again, that same strange dream enveloped me. The familiar scenario replayed—the same dark room, the cold embrace of the concrete floor, and then the arrival of the mysterious figure, the one who came to my rescue. In the dream, he exuded a warmth and comfort that invited me to lean into his presence, and an unexplained yearning lingered even after waking. The peculiarity of the dream left me contemplating its significance. Strange. The moment I awoke, a palpable tension hung in the air. The entire room seemed unusually quiet, and an inexplicable

A dream is also a reality, a hidden power of the mind that holds the truth,” Cara often reflected on this belief whenever her thoughts wandered back to the strange dream from her past. As a child, Cara had been bright yet naïve when she first encountered that vivid, bizarre dream. In it, she met a boy she believed to be a childhood playmate. He was quiet and reclusive, and while the other children rejected him, treating him as though he were mute due to his shy nature, Cara saw something different in him. She understood that he wasn’t disabled or unable to speak; he could communicate just like anyone else, but he seemed to keep to himself. Something about him drew her in—something no one els

I found my way to our room and collapsed onto the king-side bed where I fell asleep I had the strangest dream, unfamiliar hands slid across my waist, pulling me against a solid chest. The scent wasn't Sandra's perfume, but something darker, masculine. And by the time I woke up, I found myself in the arms of a stranger

Why do you suddenly visit me in my dreams, Hunter? She was wondering whether her husband is giving her a warning or sign. Or maybe he’s reminding her that even she had a deal with Damon, it’s still him—her husband, Hunter—who owned her soul and body. The picture of Mr. Stranger suddenly popped inside her head. She remembered how nice and gentle he was to her.

Not of a prison. Not of a promise. But of a beginning. She was standing beneath the silver tree. The same tree from every memory. Only now it was small. Young. Its branches barely reached above her head. The garden around it was empty. No stars. No endless worlds. Only darkness. The First Dreamer stood beside her. He looked younger somehow. Not because of his face. Because of his eyes. They still held wonder untouched by sorrow. He stared into the endless void surrounding them. “It feels lonely.”

Wayne's desperate search for his wife had been all over the news, so when he mistook a stranger for Arden, everyone thought he had finally lost his mind. Even his closest friend, Dorian James, wondered if Wayne had gone mad. After all, the woman standing before them was the Henley family's heiress, and she didn't look like Arden at all. Sensing Vincent's rising temper, Dorian quickly tugged on Wayne's sleeve and whispered, "Wayne, you really are mistaken. She's the Henley heiress."

I handed it back to him without looking at him. “There,” I said, trying to sound indifferent, as if this was just another regular moment in my day. “I’ll call you,” he promised, his smile almost mischievous as I turned to leave. “And I’m Evan by the way” he called out,But I didn’t feel like I was walking away from a stranger anymore.

And I’m glad the man I once shared a reckless night with, became my forever. My Mr. Stranger. THE END…

he whispered into my ear. In annoyance I threw his hand from my arm, and because of my sudden movement I almost fell again, but he swiftly managed to hug me so I wouldn't fall. Damn! This man must be looking for an opportunity to grope my body. "You deliberately want to grope my body!" I accused him while struggling in his arms. But he just tightened his grip on me and he didn't seem to let me go. What a strange man. I was really surprised by this sudden change in his demeanor. Could this guy have bipolar too? Oh no! Why did God give me such a terrible husband like him? No wonder he wants to marry me. If he didn't have all kinds of strange disorders, then he would have preferred to marry the