What Your Pillow Sees When You Get Possessed Novels & Stories

“It is interesting. But—does it only work if they call your name? What if, say, a kid calls out ‘Mom’? If the mom answers, does that count?” She sounded like a curious child. Charlie smiled faintly. “Of course it counts. These spirits can possess people, or transform into someone you know, to trick you. The moment your guard is down, they’ll swallow your soul.” Candice exaggerated her reaction even more: “Stop it, stop it, I don’t want to hear anymore!” Charlie fell silent. Candice thought to herself: Trying to charm the boss, huh? Not bad at it. They continued walking.

The threads of fate trembled, drawn taut, preparing to be rewritten by hands that had not touched earth in centuries. Fiona lay in her small bed, her body restless, sweat dampening her skin despite the coldness of the night. Her mind burned with strange visions—silver light flickering through the darkness, a woman’s voice whispering promises, and the warmth of a presence so overwhelming it felt like both comfort and fire. Her lips trembled as if speaking words not her own, syllables her tongue should never have known.

I could still feel the static in the air, the ghost of something foul clinging to the space the ritual had occupied. “It’s not just Jaxson,” she whispered again, her voice hoarse. “It’s something worse.” I looked over her head to Lena, who had staggered to a tree and was leaning against it, barely upright. “What the hell was that?” She wiped blood from beneath her nose. “Possession. Or something damn close to it. Jaxson’s body isn’t his anymore, not fully. That thing, whatever it is, it’s rooted deep. It’s been feeding.”

Rosalind's heart raced with wonder, her senses drinking in the magic of her newfound power. Tristan's presence in her mind whispered encouragement, his twin bond amplifying her abilities. Together, they delved deeper into the realms of vision, uncovering secrets hidden for centuries. Rosalind's visions intensified, revealing a dark conspiracy. She saw a secret gathering of humans and werewolves, their faces obscured by shadows. "Mom, I see something," Rosalind whispered, her eyes still closed. "A group of humans and werewolves, meeting in secret. They're planning something big."

"No, I'm not interested in your horseshit!" An invisible force pulled me back into the toilet and the door slammed shut. I took in a shaky breath, my heart ramming in my chest "Can you just listen!" Roxie snapped, hands in her pocket signalling impatience. "That day at the library we released a nightmare Spirit." Brea explained "And it's attached to you, it's feeding off your energy." I was so mad, I was literally seeing red "Well that wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to me."

She was grinning at me now, like all those witches from children’s fairytale stories…the creepy, knowing smile that makes kids pull the covers over their heads. I stepped back fast in shock. Not because I was scared…obviously. But because a hot feeling shot through my hand that was on her neck. The second I broke contact, her head fell forward like the thing that just woke up in her had gone right back to sleep. Okay… That was creepy. James’s voice was low beside me. “This is strange, your highness. Really strange. Could it be that she’s not really an Oden, but was possessed by one? Is that even possible?”

He pulled a pillow out of his pocket from his otherworldly storage space, locked onto Molly, and with a thought, swapped the pillow and the woman. "Huh?" Katie froze. 'Molly? Wait… wasn't I hugging Molly in bed? Why is she a pillow now?' "Molly?" she stared at the pillow in disbelief. Could it be… her sister had awakened an ability—but it turned her into a pillow? This power… was weird, really weird. Her scream startled the other girls, who all turned their heads. "Ohhh, the campus queen is yelling?" Jess remarked, even half-asleep and feverish, still managing to be irritatingly snarky. Some things never change.

Although I am not a movie fan, I have seen some ridiculous films while I was younger, and this unsettling phenomenon is giving off the terrifying vibes of being possessed, exactly like some horror script. Am I truly being possessed by a ghost? The thought was insane, illogical, but what other explanation was there for these blackout episodes and the terrible things I sometimes found myself doing? I prayed silently, a desperate, frantic plea that I would not do something unusual this time. I slammed my palm against the throbbing back of my head, quickly wanting to walk away from the scene, away from her, away from this constant threat of losing myself, but I was too late. The pain worsened, i

No one went in or out. Silence filled the room, the ticking of the large clock echoing above their ragged breaths. Hussein murmured, puzzled. Then how do you explain what I saw in my dream? Was it just a dream? Or did I kill him... in my sleep? Miranda's voice dropped to a whisper. "I think there's... a spirit haunting this villa. I saw its shadow in my room... and I saw it again at Sid's burial." Hussein rubbed his tired face, his voice weak.

"Same as you. Didn't know if everyone saw things differently or not." "No, thankfully." "Would it be bad if someone did see something that wasn't there or unusual?" I open the door to the building, wanting to get this class and this day over with. She pauses, frowning. "Yeah, I suppose it's possible but it's not a good sign." A sick sensation punches me in the stomach. "What do you mean?" "That the person could be susceptible to spirits. Like a hijinks- spiritual possession." Is that what nearly happened to me? Or the dream last night? We enter the building, making our way down the hallway to a room stuffed with desks and students pulling out their textbooks.