The Nightmare Book Novels & Stories

The boy leaves the room and I faint in the chair waiting for the return of the woman who destroyed my life, the image kept repeating itself in my mind at all times. Her small chest struggling to expand. The breaths slowing down until it was gone. I would never know what color her eyes were, if she had the same skin tone as her father, if she had hair as dark as mine. Her father ... A laugh escapes my throat, what a nightmare. All because of power. The door opens and there she is, staring at me in astonishment and staring intently at the gun in my drooping hand. "That cursed boy…" she murmurs, but soon resumes her determined and feline composure, as if she commanded everything, but now “I” ha

I throw the cover off me in an attempt to cool down and run my fingers through my hair as I try to slowly regulate my heart and breathing. Nightmare. It was just a nightmare. I’ve never had a nightmare in my entire existence, but I had one of my animai killing me, but more unsettling was that in my nightmare I could see. I could see things I shouldn’t even know what they look like. I’ve never seen Osiah, so how did I know what he looked like?

J Jeannine jerked from the vision, once again back on the Sultana. “You don’t remember that last bit, do you?” said Papa Nightmare. “The New York papers had a field day with the story. ‘Horror in the Stacks’ was the headline. They said they found books on New Orleans state law strewn around the remains. Which, of course, told us all who was responsible.” Papa Nightmare finally walked into Jeannine’s line of sight. “You get it now, little plaçage, don’t you?” “What . . . what am I supposed to get?”

The nightmare might have ended, but its haunting grip lingered, a stark reminder of the torment she endured in her waking hours. Catherine, still trembling from the residual fear of her nightmare, pushed herself up from the disheveled bed. Her heart raced, and her mind was a whirlwind of emotions as she made her way towards the room's French doors that opened onto a spacious balcony. This particular nightmare, more accurately described as a haunting memory, had rarely resurfaced since her escape. It was the first day she had encountered Steven.

Chapter 42 Nightmare An hour has passed ever since she arrived at the library reading the pile of books she had randomly chosen, and half of it was strangely about werewolves while the other half is about some kind of diary. For the past hour, she realized that this pile of books was either true or was here just for fun. But knowing Nicholas as the uptight boss to others and the big puppy to her, she can’t think that this is some type of joke. The things written inside sounded so credible after some of them wrote down facts that are known to humans. And if it's not it, the one who wrote this must have been trolling.

{He knows that you have silver on you} "It's nice to meet you too. Let's sit down and talk. We have so many questions for you" Colton as he motioned for me to sit with the three of them on the couch. I looked at Craig and he nodded and sat next to me. He made a big show of putting his arm around me and Colton narrowed his eyes at us. Craig just stared back. "Where would you like for me to start?" I asked, attempting to break the tension. "At the beginning of course. What happened when the Nightmare first began?" Colton prompted.

The young lady had a puzzled look on her face until she heard the librarian speak again using an even lower tone that she didn’t manage to pick up everything aside from the ‘book’. "That book is yours to keep in the first place..." The night after the book went to the maiden’s naïve hands, a nightmare that could make a person go crazy in their dreams yet would be forgotten once awake started its cycle. The clueless girl never realized but every night, she would keep on dreaming about it without any memory of it the next day. Nothing seems to be so serious, right? Aside from the fact that the impure emotions inside Crostelia’s body are starting to pile up in a ridiculous amount, nothing is re

his groggy and deep voice grumbled in the dark. “Something like that, go back to sleep Travis,” I told him. Yes, I still had nightmares about my time in captivity here and so did he. Almost every night, if it wasn’t the tortuous dreams of bear shifters or the dead rogue king invading my subconscious, it was the repetitive reoccurring dream of the library. The same old story, pun intended, of standing there and pages flying from the books, highlighting different words as they embedded into my mind. But it was neither of those dreams that had me waking up in a cold sweat tonight.

That night, Lily found herself plagued by a terrifying nightmare. In her dream, she saw herself running alongside a lake, experiencing unimaginable pain as she cried and bled from underneath. She woke up with a start, her body drenched in sweat, and gripped her blanket tightly. Her heart pounding, she held her chest and sat up, whispering, "What kind of nightmare was that?"

He remembered his parents, his friends, and the adventures they had gone on together. But there was something else, something darker lurking in the corners of his mind. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but he knew that it was important. One night, as Jack lay in bed, he had a dream. In the dream, he was walking through a dense forest, his heart pounding with fear. He felt like something was chasing him, something dark and powerful. As he stumbled through the underbrush, he came to a clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a stone altar, and on the altar was a book. The book was bound in black leather, and its pages were filled with strange, arcane symbols.